Page 43 of Your Masked Haunting

The overhead chandelier illuminates the room, and without Mona drawing my attention, I take it in fully. The place is clearly not visited often, thick dust lining the shelves, aside from where Mona’s and my prints mark our perfect fucking night.

I stride over to the full wall of built-in oak shelves, packed to the brim, with notebooks and books stacked in any opening available. This place was very loved once upon a time.

I drag my finger along the spine of the book, seeing the trail left, void of dust. Unmarked leather-bound books. Collector’s editions. Fiction novels of all kinds, spines broken and creased from repetitive reads. Nonfiction books about business, money management, running a hotel, managing people, the list drones on.

My brows furrow as I read the next title—How to Forgive Yourself. Apparently, I’ve entered a self-help section.

Living with Regret.

Protecting Your Peace.

Choosing Your Family.

A ton of titles, all centered around a fucked-up family dynamic, has me questioning the loving face the Schraders always showed the media.

What the hell is going on here?

Reaching a collection of notebooks or journals of some kind, I make a mental note to come back and read through these when I have time. Or better yet … I pluck two from the top shelf, tucking them into my arm. They’ll be a lot easier to read if I don’t have to be here to do it. Besides, there’s no way I’ll be in this house and not glued to Mona.

Any time I get here will be spent with her. Talking to her. Kissing her. Trailing my tongue up and down her body. Sleeping with her wrapped in my arms.

This damn mask needs to come off sooner than later.

But not yet, not when she seems to loathe the real me. I need her to claim her undying love for me before I show my face. Better yet, maybe I’ll tell her my real name by tattooing it in her skin. Then she'll really be stuck with me for good.

We’re worn down to the bone after today’s evening practice. I don’t know if Bates and Serena are fighting and Coach Rafferty is taking his daughter’s anger out on us or what, but they need to work it out as soon as fucking possible. Although I know better than that.

Bates and Serena are goddamn soulmates, and even if they bicker, they work through their shit in a day. Coach Rafferty is just trying to get us ready for the long season ahead. I just want someone to blame other than myself for being so out of breath and exhausted from that workout.

We’re all getting together for craft night, and for the first time ever, we’re opening our little group for our two new friends, Ledger and Ransom. It’s a sacred club. But we’re taking a chance, and until we determine they’re officially in, they’re on a probationary period.

Any of us core three can choose to veto them for any reason. We’ll have a huddle and then decide what to do from there. But tonight will be a real test of our friendship compatibility because I’m going to reveal to them that I’m stalking a girl and we’re making cute cards for her. This is either going to go extraordinarily well or be an absolute train wreck. And we’re about to find out … after this pit stop at Moore’s Crafts, where I’ll hopefully get to see my gal Paula.

As luck would have it, she’s at the register, stickering a cart of clearance products like the boss she is. She hears us enter and turns, smiling and waving, in her default customer-service act. Recognition dawns on her, and her smile widens, real joy in her eyes.

“Hey, Paula!” I call out. “Looking beautiful as ever!”

She instantly warms, clutching her hands to her chest. “You boys look like trouble tonight.”

Oh, Paula, you have no idea.

“We certainly are,” Kol adds, a smirk on his lips.

Waving her hand through the air, she shoos his claim away in disbelief, and we carry on toward the cardstock aisle—the reason we’re here.

It only takes three minutes to grab what I need, more than I need, and I have time to debate on even more stuff. The other four guys watch me hem and haw about whether or not I should get this cool holographic paper pack.

Ledger, already bonding with Kol in his dislike for my indecisiveness, grabs the packet and ushers me toward the checkout. Happy with the choice, I don’t protest.

Paula is a beaming ray of sunshine when we reach her, happy to help check us out. I swear she is the sweetest older lady, and I’m half tempted to ask if she’s working because she has to or working because she wants to. If it’s the former, I might give her a big enough lump sum to retire her and a spending budget so she can live her life comfortably, doing whatever she desires.

It might have been a single favor that she did for me, helping me cover Mona’s craft haul, but it still meant the world. Mona might not realize that I’m her masked man yet, but she will. Anyone willing to help me secure a future with my girl is family to me.

“Ooh, this is fun,” she coos, picking up the holographic packet and giving me pride in my own fascination with it. “What are you guys making?”

Deciding to be incredibly honest because I doubt she’ll believe it, I tell her, “Oh, you know, making love letters for the girl I’m stalking.”

As expected, she doesn’t think I’m being truthful, and she bursts into a fit of giggles, a cough trailing the laughter. “You boys make my night.” She glances over to Ransom and Ledger. “And you have new crafters with you.”