Page 28 of Your Masked Haunting

I have fifty dollars in my bank account right now, and the only reason it’s even that high is because my masked man has been keeping my fridge stocked for me. That was already more than I could've asked for.

Grabbing my phone, I call him, and he answers before the first ring even sounds in my ear.

“Hey, Scaredy-Cat.”

“This is too much. The socks. The boots. I don’t want this.” My voice is timid and nervous. A pit grows deep in my stomach as thoughts of my past fight to break free, but I halt them immediately. “I can’t repay this …”

“Hey. You owe me nothing, Mona. Ever.” His words are soft and comforting, as if he were enveloping me in a hug, stroking his hand up and down my back.

A sob breaks through the room, and I want to crawl into a ball and never come out. “I’m s-sorry.”

“I’m coming to your room. Screw the party.” He doesn’t hesitate.

“No!” I blurt out, not wanting to ruin the night because I’m truly looking forward to it too. “Don’t. I’m okay. I’m sorry.”

“Baby, stop apologizing. You don’t owe anyone anything ever—got it?” he mutters as if it’s that easy, as if it can erase the choices I made in the past to survive.

“Can I tell you something?” I murmur, my vulnerability taking me by surprise. I’ve never told this to anyone, but I’ve never had anyone I wanted to tell. I continue without his response because I already know it. “It happened three times ... I thought the men were just being nice, going out of their way to help a girl in need.” I pause and can hear his slow, shaky inhale. “They wanted something in return, and in order to keep the food and the gifts, I gave it to them.”

Oh God, he’s probably going to think I’m a whore, using my body to get food and shelter. If I had had any other choice, I would’ve fucking taken it.

I haven’t even thought about this in so long. I forgot about it, forced it deep down inside of me so it couldn’t torment me anymore. Clearly, that worked so well.

It doesn’t matter now though. Here I am, ruining the best thing that’s ever happened to me. It was inevitable. Nothing truly lasts.

“Mona.” It’s breathy and fraught with emotion. This is it; he’s ending things. “You will never ever owe me a single thing. Ever. I will buy you the goddamn world and say thank you for letting me. These gifts, they are nothing.”

“They are everything,” I correct, feeling incredibly emotional. Overwhelmed that I might have ruined this sweet gesture. Vulnerable like I’ve been skinned alive. Petrified that whatever is brewing between us will come to an end.

“Baby, I’m so sorry they did that to you. Never. Never again will you be in a situation like that. I will make damn sure of it,” he promises.

And for some odd reason—maybe it’s because I’m pretty sure he’s the only person who’s ever truly cared for me—I believe him.

“I’m always here for you, Mona. And if you want to take things slower⁠—”

“God, no,” I cut him off, wiping the tears from beneath my eyes. “No. I want all of the fantasies I told you. Please don’t hold back because I told you about those ... douchebags from my past. It would only make me feel worse.”

I can almost hear the smile in his voice when he says, “That’s my girl. Brave. Strong.”

“Starved,” I add, feeling my cheeks warm, like his gaze is somehow on me, skirting down my body.

“Oh, I’ll take care of that hunger; don’t you worry,” he exhales. “Now, come on. You have one more box to open.”

“Yeah.” I try to shake myself from the heaviness of the conversation when it suddenly dawns on me. “Wait, how do you know I have one left?”

His answer is fast—almost too fast. “You mentioned the boots, and there was a little jewelry box packed beneath it.”

“Hmm.” I let it go for now, knowing that even if he had cameras hidden in here, I wouldn’t care. Honestly, it would bring me a sense of security, knowing he’s watching over me. “One more. And then no more presents ever again.”

“Oof.” He clicks his tongue. “I absolutely cannot promise that.”

I roll my eyes and retrieve the small box, flipping the lid on the hinge. “No way.”

“Oh, way.” He chuckles, and I can’t help but giggle. “I know my girl doesn’t play when it comes to her crystals. And I noticed you didn’t have a necklace with one.”

“I wish I knew your name so I could whisper it over and over in disbelief.” The genuine opal necklace shifts in the light, catching fire. “It’s so beautiful.”

I lift it from its prison, unclasping it and putting it around my neck, letting it settle against my skin, hanging between my breasts and my collarbone.