Ghost (The Halloween Boys #1) (10)
“I don’t know . . .” I hesitated, afraid to look at myself too long in the mirror.
Just then, something dropped over my vision and positioned over my cheeks. “Here, try it with the mask. Now, see the vision?”
To my surprise, she was right. The mask did change the whole look. Instead of looking like a go-go dancer, suddenly I looked mysterious and dark, even in an orange and black corset with a ridiculous fox tail dangling over my ass. “I guess this with some black stockings and boots would look pretty cute,” I admitted.
“Exactly, you’re getting it now, girl. A lot of people will wear the same costume each night, or some variation of it. You can sort of . . . take on your own persona at Hallows. You may meet people by their masquerade alone. I’m hoping to run into the zombies I met last year. They’re a fun crew. Oh, and the vampires are a trip, just don’t drink anything they give you. They can make it weird.”
My heart pattered in anticipation. “I think being a fox is growing on me.” The costume was supposed to be the opposite of me. I couldn’t think of anything more different from me than a fox. Foxes were clever, swift, and cunning. Foxes were vicious. In this costume, I looked sexy and confident. My breasts were overflowing, and my ample hips and ass were sticking out just right. Each curve was on full display. My face was completely hidden. I didn’t even recognize myself. Good. I didn’t want to. I wanted to be anyone else.
“I think it’s perfect. But just for fun, I threw some other costumes in there. A black cat, a witch, and some fancier stuff. Oh, that reminds me, on the last night, on actual Halloween, everyone dresses in traditional eighteen-hundreds garb. Wear the masks still, but the clothing is a traditional gown for people who identify as women and trousers and top hats for those who identify as men. Of course, if you’re nonbinary, you get to do whatever you want.” Yesenia rambled on as I smiled and nodded, eventually excusing myself into the dressing room. I tried on a slinky cat-like costume, eyed a long purple dress much like the one she was wearing, but I didn’t see the old-timey gown. “This is all so generous. Thank you so much for your help. I don’t see the traditional gown back here though?”
“I keep all those safe at my abuela’s.” She winked. “But come back here the morning of Halloween and we’ll get you all sorted. I would love to play with your hair if you let me. You know, curl it and pin it up.”
Something close to happiness beat its creaky wings in my ribs. “Will I see you? At Hallows?”
“I don’t know, will you?” With another coy wink, she spun on her heels, pausing by a crystal ball and glancing inside, as if seeing something I couldn’t.
Curiosity got the better of me as I gazed over at it too. “Hey, was that one cloudy like that earlier? Is it motion activated like the skeleton guy over there?” I quipped, my awkward attempt at long forgotten humor.
But Yesenia didn’t return my mirth right away. Instead, she stared at the smoke-filled lavender orb for a moment before paling slightly. Something cold washed over me and pricked the back of my neck. Her earlier bubbly light shadowed for the briefest moment . . . until she pulled her gaze away. “What was that, dear? Oh, here, take some candy with you. The local kids are always afraid to come in here. We hardly get trick-or-treaters inside the shop anymore. They say it’s too scary.” She chuckled and shoved a handful of tiny packets into one of the bags I was gripping. “Which is funny because I swear to god, Old Man Pine’s haunted house is much scarier than my abuela’s tacky, old decor. But kids, ya know, they’re weird. They have all month to trick-or-treat anyway.”
“The kids here trick-or-treat all month?” I asked, still a little unnerved by the sudden change of atmosphere. The smell of cinnamon had even disappeared somehow.
Yesenia smiled softly. “You’ve got a lot to learn about Ash Grove, Blythe. You’re about to discover all of our secrets,” she purred before holding open the door. I scooted out, thanking her and promising to come back in to say hi.
A chorus of maniacal laughter and bells jingling faded behind me as I hopped in my car. I checked the back seat and rearview, like I always did. And despite a rather pleasant interaction, and my passenger seat filled to the brim with new clothes, an uneasiness settled in my shoulders as I clicked my seat belt and cranked the engine. I hadn’t received a letter yet. Not here. I wouldn’t dare let myself hope that maybe, maybe just this once, I’d outrun him. That maybe the monster wouldn’t find me here. Pausing, I checked the rearview again. Townspeople milled about, placing pumpkins and buckets of candy outside their storefronts. Women fluffed hay bales and men stood on ladders securing lights and maple leaf garlands to buildings and door frames. It all looked like a Halloween wonderland. Innocent enough.
So why did I have the heavy, distinct feeling that someone was watching me?
Garden of India was only a short drive, a mile or two from the shop. I wished I felt safe enough to walk, but that was too risky. By the time I arrived and clocked in, my uneasiness had waned in a cloud of vindaloo and rice. At least Raja let me eat on the job. He was actually the nicest boss I’d had in a very long time. He didn’t hover; most of the time he just sat in the back doing the restaurant’s bookkeeping while the chefs watched sports on the kitchen’s television between orders. Being to-go only had its perks. No one lingered. No one talked to me, really. The cooks and Raja all spoke to each other and left me out completely, but I didn’t mind. I liked it, actually. It was nice being near conversation but not weighed down by having to think about it. I changed out of my black shirt and slipped on my India Garden T-shirt, tying it at the small of my back so it wasn’t so baggy. The only shirts that fit me were men’s sizes. I kept meaning to distress it and cut it up a bit to make it more me, but I always forgot by the time I got back to my basement dwelling at the end of a shift. After the dinner rush, a calm blanketed the space, and I leaned on the counter. Suddenly, a plate of samosas slid over, tapping my elbow. I looked over at one of the chefs, Dhruv, and smiled. “Thank you, Dhruv. My favorite.” I took a big crunchy bite of the crispy triangle and suppressed a moan. Shit, the food here was good. He gave me a grin and disappeared into the kitchen. I wondered if he was single. He was definitely handsome. Would Dhruv be at Hallows Fest? I thought about asking him, but even if he answered, he’d probably give me the same coy riddle of a response that Yesenia did. This town was bonkers. But I wouldn’t lie, I was excited and eager to see what this party was all about. As I was dusting samosa crumbs off my fingers, my gaze caught on something in the parking lot. The flickering streetlight revealed what looked like a man bending over the side of my car. My heart jumped into my throat. What if it was my stepfather? Here? All my illusions of being somewhat safe while on the job dissipated. Would he hurt the guys here too? I could run out the back door like the coward I was, but where would I go without a car? Panic threatened to paralyze me when the stranger began walking toward me. A black beanie concealed his features. I couldn’t be sure, but he didn’t have the same heavy gait as my stepfather. My pulse thrummed up to my throat . . . and then dropped to my core at the sight of who walked in. He pulled off his beanie, letting his black hair fall across his forehead and dangle over his glasses. Dr. Cove offered a lopsided smirk that made me clench my knees together in ache.