Page 10 of Shadowed With Fear

I opened my mouth, but she cut me off, “Not including last Halloween. We do not speak of it.” Her green eyes narrowed.

“Okay. Friendsgiving: stove caught on fire. Christmas Party at He-Who-We-Hate: drank too much, fell down the stairs. New Year’s Eve brunch at your parents’: blew a tire. Your birthday: food poisoning. Spring Break: passed out getting my nose ring. Graduation trip: lost my purse at the beach. I can keep going, but I feel I’ve made my point.”

I shrugged while taking a long drink from my Dr. Pepper.

Oh, Dr. Pepper, my love. Why does the world hate thee?

“Okay, I see your argument, and raise you—those were all trips and parties. You have bad luck on trips and parties we go to together. This is neither. It’s like— “she paused searching for the word, before snapping with a squeal, “it’s a girl’s night.”

I groaned, “Really?”

“Yes, absolutely. I am in desperate need after Issac’s skank ass shit. We go to the Founder’s Festival. Ride a fatally constructed Ferris Wheel. Eat all the bomb fair food. Maybe win a prize or two or get matching shirts or some other goofy shit. Then we’ll go back to your house, make the Browniezillas and watch whatever scary shit you feel like throwing at me. You get to see me piss myself, I get to have a night out so I’m not wallowing in self-pity. It’s a win-win.”

Liz was truly proud of herself. My sigh might have been a little over dramatic, but I smiled brightly in her direction. God, I love her. As much as I hate her, I love her.

“Fine, but you’ll be eating your words when I’m elbow deep into googling ‘Top 100 Scariest Films of All Time’.”

She nudged me with a small smile.

“Thanks, D.”

“It’s not a big deal. Nothing that bad can happen, right?”

The lie was bitter on my tongue. Lizzie knew it. I knew it. I was worried. My luck had turned exceptionally sour since that night in October. The only good luck I had was the unknown man who had helped me. A stranger in a mask.

Heat settled across my skin. The darkness that had swirled in the depth of their eyes. It was the same darkness that lurked in the corners of unlit rooms or between trees in the mountains after nightfall.

I don’t know much about the events that happened after I had lost consciousness, but I woke up in the backseat of Alex’s police cruiser. No one has really spoken of that night since. Especially Grayson. Despite my attempts, I haven’t been able to avoid him, especially after moving into my old childhood home with my brother.

The heat turned cold as a chill spread through my limbs tingling at the back of my neck. Sweat beading at my hairline. I was grateful to Brahm for giving me my old bedroom, but damn if the place didn’t give me the creeps now. It was always so quiet. Despite being a little off to itself at the end of the street, I can’t shake the feeling of eyes watching me from the shadows. I’d grown used to the feeling at home since Halloween. But right now, the feeling was beginning to creep on me.

I’d never been afraid to fear. I enjoyed being scared. I loved creepy things. I mean come on, self-appointed spooky bitch #1. I don’t shy from the dark. Or the monsters they tell us are lurking in the shadows. But things had changed that night when I was fourteen. It’s been almost five years, and I still don’t feel like the old me.

Liz had been rambling away about the classes she was changing in her schedule and how dumb she thought her decision to take classes with Issac was.

With a small sweep across the plaza, I searched for the eyes on me. Everyone seemed to be doing their own things. Studying. Eating. Laughing. But off in the far corner, by the alley on the right of the library, leaning against the trunk of a large oak tree, a figure stood. I couldn’t see much of their features, and I really didn’t know how they were able to stand in this heat in their hoodie.

The chill had turned my blood to ice. The watchful gaze was definitely theirs. The small nod in my direction confirmed it.

No, I was never scared of the monsters in the dark, until she died. But I think I want to see them. I want to know them. Befriend them. I just hope they want to do the same.

Grayson

“Dude, you’re shitting me, right?”

I roll my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose, sighing softly.

My voice is rough with annoyance as I speak, “No, Alex. I’m not fucking shitting you. I’ve been tailing this piece of shit for two fucking weeks. He will not be at the fest. If we want to get him alone, without any kind of suspicion, that will be the time to do it.”

Alex throws his hands up, pacing the small space by the island in Brahm’s kitchen.

“How the hell am I supposed to be there then, jackass? You know Roberts has me on rounds tomorrow night because of the stupid thing. I can’t be in two places at once.” He crosses his thick arms in front of his chest, lifting a brow.

“Alex, stop whining. We know you’re working. That’s why you’re literally planned to not be present. Now shut the fuck up, and listen to Grayson,” Brahm barks at him and Alex does this weird thing where he almost submits, but the fact he does pisses him off. His cheeks turn red, and his eyes glare down at Brahm sitting on a barstool.

Unsurprising though is the fact Henry hasn’t spoken a word. While his brother has his temper fits, Henry’s eerie silence is far more alarming.

I often think that if I didn’t know him as well and for as long as I have, I’d be terrified of the dead look he keeps hidden in his eyes. But the professor facade throws everyone off his track. Yet, as he sits there, back to the wall at the kitchen table, spinning a knife between his fingers, far off look on his face, I think maybe despite all of that, I still am a little unnerved.