Chapter 5 #2
I slide the mask on and tighten the strap behind my head. My breath warms the inside immediately, and the world narrows through the black mesh eyes until there’s only the path, the trees, the rain, and the library doors in the distance.
Then I step back into the shadows and wait.
The rain keeps falling, steady and cold, dripping from the branches overhead and turning the path into a slick black ribbon between the chapel and the trees.
A few students leave the library first, huddled under umbrellas, laughing too loud, heads down, completely fucking useless to everything around them.
I don’t move.
Then Alice steps out.
Black coat. Camera bag tucked against her side. Hood up. Boots splashing through shallow puddles. She pauses under the library awning and looks out at the rain like it personally offended her.
My pulse kicks once.
There you are.
She adjusts the strap of her bag, tucks a wet strand of hair behind her ear, then heads down the steps. For a second, I think she might take the main path toward the lit part of campus.
She doesn’t.
Of course she fucking doesn’t.
Alice cuts toward the chapel.
Toward the trees.
Toward me.
I wait until she passes the first bend in the path, until the library lights fall behind her and the chapel blocks most of the view from the courtyard. The rain thickens around us, softening the world into dark shapes and wet stone.
Then I step out.
She hears me before she sees me.
Her shoulders tense, but she keeps walking. One step. Two. Three. Slower now. Listening.
Good girl.
I keep my pace even. Not fast. Not loud. Boots steady on the wet path, rain sliding down the mask, hands loose at my sides. I let her hear me. Let her understand I’m there. Let the space between us fill with every awful thing she can imagine before she finally turns her head.
The second she sees the mask, she stops.
For one clean heartbeat, neither of us moves.
The cemetery fence runs beside us. Trees drip overhead. Rain hits dead leaves and dark pavement. Campus is right there, glowing through the branches, but it suddenly feels miles away.
Her hand tightens around her camera bag.
I say nothing.
She knows anyway.
I see it hit her. Not panic. Not confusion. Anger first, sharp and immediate, then something underneath it that makes my pulse kick hard.
Recognition.
She knows it’s me.
And she’s still standing there.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” she says, voice low and furious.
My smile stays hidden as she turns and walks faster.
I follow.
Not close enough to grab her. Not far enough to let her pretend she isn’t being followed. I keep the distance steady while she cuts along the chapel path, past the iron fence and the old stone markers.
She looks back once.
Then again.
The second time, I see her mouth form another curse I can’t hear.
Then she runs.
Fuck.
My pulse kicks hard, but I let her get ahead because she’s choosing this, and that matters even if I don’t want to admit why.
She doesn’t run toward the student center.
Doesn’t head for the security booth. Doesn’t cut across the main courtyard where people might still be smoking under awnings and pretending to study.
She runs deeper into the trees.
Toward the back road behind Saint Agnes Hall.
Toward somewhere darker.
That says enough.
My boots hit puddles behind her. Rain gets under the mask, cold against my jaw. Alice moves fast, but the camera bag slows her down, and the wet pavement makes every turn messy. Her boots slip once on a patch of leaves, and my hand twitches before I can stop it.
I almost call her name, but I don’t.
This only works if she keeps choosing.
She reaches the narrow part of the path where the trees crowd close and the cemetery fence turns into a low stone wall half-covered in moss.
Beyond it, an old maintenance road curves behind campus, cracked and unused except by groundskeepers and idiots who want a place to drink where security won’t bother them.
Alice cuts that way and I laugh under my breath.
Because there it is. Exactly what I was waiting for.
She wants fear and right now, she hates that I know exactly how to give it to her. She gets halfway down the maintenance road before I catch her.
One second, she’s running through rain and dead leaves, and boots slipping in the mud. The next, my hand closes around her waist and turns her into me, backing her against the trunk of an old tree with enough force to steal the breath out of both of us.
Not hard enough to hurt, just hard enough to make a point.
The mask is still on when her hands hit my chest.
“You’re out of your fucking mind,” she snaps, breathless and furious, but her fingers don’t shove me away as hard as they should. They curl once in the wet fabric of my hoodie before she catches herself and flattens her palms again.
My mouth curves behind the mask. “You say that like you’re surprised.”
“I’m saying it like you followed me through the woods wearing nightmare decor from a Halloween clearance bin.”
A laugh slips out of me, low and rough, the sound trapped behind the plastic between us. “And yet you picked the darkest path on campus.”
“Because it’s the fastest way home.”
“Bullshit.” I lean in just enough that the jagged mouth of the mask almost brushes her cheek. She goes still, but not scared-still. Interested-still. The kind she’ll deny until her pretty mouth bleeds from the effort. “You knew I was behind you.”
Her eyes flash up at the blank face between us. “I knew some asshole was behind me.”
“And you still didn’t run toward help.”
“Maybe I was considering murder.”
“Aw that’s sweet.” My hand tightens at her waist, holding her against the tree while rain slides down the white mask and drips between us. “How’d that work out for you?”
Her jaw flexes, and fuck, I like her like this. Soaked. Pissed. Breathing too fast. Acting like every part of her isn’t paying attention to every part of me.
“You’re enjoying this way too much,” she says.
“How could I not?”
“At least lie.”
“No.”
Her mouth parts, probably to call me insane again, but I cut her off by lowering my head until my voice drops right into the small space between her throat and the mask.
“You really thought I wouldn’t notice?”
Her fingers twitch against my chest. “Notice what?”
“You.” My hand tightens at her waist, slow and possessive, keeping her pinned there while the rain runs down the mask between us.
“That’s the whole thing, isn’t it? You’re used to being invisible.
Hiding behind that camera. Standing in corners.
Taking little pieces of people while they’re too stupid to realize you’re stealing from them. ”
Her jaw tightens.
Perfect. Seems I hit a nerve.
“Maybe it worked before,” I murmur. “Maybe everyone else looked right through you. The drunks. The fighters. The idiots screaming at the cage like blood is a personality trait.” I lean closer, the jagged teeth of the mask hovering near her cheek.
“Maybe even other monsters like me would’ve missed you. But I didn’t.”
She swallows, and I feel it.
Fuck, I like that.
“You put that camera in my face, ghost girl. You made me look.” My thumb drags over her waist, slow enough to make her body tighten before she can hide it. “And now I can’t fucking stop.”
Her lips part, but nothing smart comes out.
That might be my new favorite thing.
I tilt my head, watching her through the black mesh. “And now look at you. So pissed off. So offended. Standing here acting like you didn’t run into the trees instead of toward the lights.”
“I was trying to get away from you.”
“Were you?” My smile gets worse. “Because you’re doing a shit job.”
Her hands press harder against my chest, but she doesn’t shove. Not really. Her fingers curl in the wet fabric like they’re trying to make a fist and forgot the part where they’re supposed to let go.
"Doesn't matter. I see you now, Alice,” I say, voice dropping lower. “I see the girl who pretends fear and death is research. The girl who points a lens at violence and calls it art so she doesn’t have to admit she likes getting close enough to feel it breathe.”
“Don’t,” she whispers, but it doesn’t land like stop.
It lands like she hates that I’m right.
My hand slides just a little higher on her side, still controlled, still giving her room to stop me if she wants. “You want to be scared, but only by someone smart enough to know exactly how much you can take.”
Her breath catches.
Quick and sharp.
Fuck me, that sound.
The fear. The want.
Both of them tangled together so tight even she can’t tell where one ends and the other starts.
“You crave it,” I murmur. “That’s what really pisses you off. Not me. Not the mask. Not the woods.” My thumb presses once into her waist, just enough to make her remember my hand is there. “You’re mad because I figured it out before you could lie to yourself properly.”
“That’s not true.”
“Liar.”
The word slips between us, soft and mean.
Her fingers tighten in my hoodie.
I laugh, low and dark. “Careful, ghost girl. Keep holding on like that, and I’m going to start thinking you don’t want me to let you go.”
Her eyes narrow. “Maybe I’m waiting for the right time to knee you.”
“Cute.” I lean back just enough to look at her. “Want me to count down for you?”
Despite herself, her mouth twitches.
There.
That tiny crack in the anger.
That little flash of fuck you and come closer wearing the same face.
I drag my gaze over her slowly, letting her feel every second of it. “You’re terrible at pretending you don’t like this.”
“And you’re terrible at pretending you’re not a psychopath.”
“I’m not pretending.”
Her breath stutters.
My smile turns sharp behind the mask.
“Your turn.”
Her expression shifts, just a little. The anger stays because Alice likes having armor, but beneath it, curiosity flickers hot and stupid and honest.
I tilt my head, watching her through the black mesh. “Go on, ghost girl. Ruin my night.”