AllFreeNovel
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What if she’s right?
“I’m sure you will,” I agree with a too-sweet grin. “But uh, don’t hurry over to talk to me if you see me. I have a life too, you know.”
“Oh, I know,” she replies, flashing me a smile full of false goodwill. “Don’t worry about that, Bailey. I know all about your life.” And with that—like it’s not two steps away from a veiled threat—she gets in her car, starts the engine, and drives away.
Like she never had any business here in the first place.
When I run my fingers over the mask I wear, a small twitch goes up my spine at the feeling. It isn’t exactly the same as the one I’d borrowed from Nic, but it’s similar enough. The black smoothness of the cat skull is covered in small, black rhinestones that wink in the dark, and the large scarlet stone on the forehead soaks up the light from everywhere around me and flickers with deep red hues in response.
Though I’m obviously not dressed as I was at the party, since the Hollow Bridge Halloween Fair is family friendly until the last couple of days before Halloween.
Unfortunately, the curfew has kept the fair from opening most nights. But now that it’s been almost a week with no murder and Evan hasn’t been attacked in the hospital, Hollow Bridge seems to have breathed a sigh of relief and gotten back to celebrating the holiday at hand. For tonight I’m wearing all black; a hoodie for practicality, and leggings decorated with cat faces that go sheer at my knees, up to my thighs, though a good part of them are covered by the black, lacy skirt I wear.
Seriously, it would’ve looked better without the hoodie. But even with it, I’m out here shivering, my bucket of candy balanced against my hip as I hand out goodie bags to small children who are emitting squeals that hurt my ears. More than anything, Halloween always convinces me I donotwant any of my own.
“Yes, take one,” I mutter, as a little girl dressed as a zombie snatches it out of my hand. “And don’t say please or thank you. Just take it all.” The group of them runs off, leaving me momentarily alone near my parents’ booth.
At least, until the Gothic Vampires show up.
Well, I think Rory and Phoenix are going for vampires. And their outfits look like they were picked up from the ‘historically inaccurate Gothic period’ section of the costume store, even without the plastic canes I’m sure came along with them. Their faces are painted to look like skulls, giving both of them an inherently menacing vibe that sends another twitch up my spine.
“A cat with candy,” Rory teases, picking up one of the small, childish grab bags. “You’re adorable.”
“You’re stealing from underprivileged children,” I retort, snagging the bag back and dropping it in my bucket. The tail I wear clipped to my leggings brushes the backs of my knees, and Phoenix’s gaze drops to it, eyebrows raising slowly and pointedly.
“You just can’t get enough of being alittle cat, can you Bailey?” he purrs in that terribly distracting voice of his, and it’s so hard not to step closer to him with some kind of flirty, witty reply on my lips.
If only I had a witty, flirty reply, then I might do just that. Instead, I sigh, flicking my eyes back to my parents’ booth to remind them of where we are.
“And you must’ve dug for hours at the costume shop for that,” I tell both of them belatedly, letting my gaze wander over their costumes, the black jeans they’re both wearing, and up to their faces. “Did you wash off the plastic smell, or has it just yet to hit me?”
Rory snorts and steps forward, eliminating most of the space between us as he stares at me, the black paint under his eyes giving him a much more aggressive appearance than usual. “You should introduce me to your parents,” he murmurs, gaze never leaving mine. “I feel left out, since I’m the only one who hasn’t met them.”
“They’re not your type.”
“Well, I would sure as shit hope not.” He rolls his eyes at my words and looks to the side, drawing my attention and a small, strangled sound from my throat.
Phoenix is already walking over to my parents, his hands shoved in his pockets as he waits politely for a little girl to finish decorating her candy apple.
“Shit,” I mutter, moving to stand closer to Rory, the bucket pressed against my other hip. “I can’t believe him.”
“Why?” He reaches into the bucket again, his arm sliding against my lower back as he does. This time I don’t stop him, and he pulls the bag back to examine it before pulling out a Tootsie Roll. “Do they not like him?”
“On the contrary.” It’s hard not to groan when my mom’s face lights up and Dad clasps Phoenix’s hand like he’s a long-lost son of the Scott family. “Theyadorehim. They always have. It’s like he has some spell on them, or something.”
“Then they’ll love me.” He doesn’t wait for my answer. He just goes to my parents’ booth, leaving me to make small, unfortunate noises of protest where I stand.
“Is that free?” The sullen voice brings my attention downward, where the boy with a blue headband, green sweats, and a homemade turtle shell stands. “Mom says candy is free.”
“Your mom is right,” I tell him, moving the bucket around so I can hold it in front of me. But I don’t look at him for long. My attention is immediately drawn back to the guys, and the way my parents look so thrilled at having two of them to talk to.
“Are those your boyfriends?” the kid asks, looking to where my face is turned. “Their costumes suck.”
When I peer down at him, eyes narrowed, he only meets my glare with one of his own. “Isn’t that word above your age range?”
“I’m ten.”
“Do other ten-year-olds saysuck? And why do you think they’re both my boyfriends?”
