Page 32 of Your Masked Haunting

“There—” She gasps, the terror still ripping through her body. “There was a whisper.” Breath. “I thought it was you playing with me.” Breath. “Then I swear I felt a hand on my back, shoving me sideways against the wall. Or yanking me toward it. I don’t know.” Gasp. “But then I heard the voice again, and I realized why it sounded so familiar. It wasn’t you. It was the one who told me to leave.”

I’m so tempted to rip my mask off of my head, kiss her forehead, and pull her into my body, not letting her go until every ounce of fear has left her. But I think seeing the real me right now might actually just piss her off more since she loathes Craft Store Boy.

But I lean down with my mask still on and kiss her forehead through the mesh. “Hey, it’s okay. Stay here. I’ll go check it out, all right?”

Her eyes widen, bigger than I knew was even physically possible. “No! Please don’t. Just stay here—” Her gaze flicks to the side, and she takes in the surroundings for the first time. “Whoa.”

While I don’t want to leave her, I also want to drag whatever punk is hiding there down the stairs and out of the house. Well, there is another way, and maybe now is the time to reveal a few of my secrets.

“We can talk about this in a minute.” I gesture to the room. “I can check the hallway from here,” I assure her, watching confusion pinch between her brows.

“What?” She’s looking at me as if I’m crazy. “What do you mean?”

Righting myself, I grab my phone from my pocket. “You’ve said that I have a good sixth sense, right? Like knowing when you get home or off work all the time.”

She nods.

“What if I told you that’s because I have a couple hundred cameras hidden throughout the house?”

She straightens slowly, and I can see the wheels turning behind her eyes, unsure if I’m telling the truth. But that’s easy to prove.

Unlocking my phone, I turn the screen to her, showing the grid of the third-floor cameras, displayed in three separate screens, the last one of her room from every angle. She takes it, her lips parted and eyes hungry to take everything in.

“I would say I’m sorry, but I don’t think I’ll ever apologize for making sure you’re safe.” My gaze is glued to her as I wait for the slightest indication that she’s either going to slap me or try to kiss me. I'd be happy with either.

Swiping back and forth, she studies the recorded footage of her moving throughout the lively house and back to the hallway she came sprinting from moments ago. “This is … impressive.”

Any responses I mentally prepared for go out the window because I wasn’t expecting that. “What?”

She shrugs, as if I were showing her the most mundane image.

Her gaze flicks up, finding mine through the mask. “I’ve had suspicions that you might have cameras. Honestly, I kind of hoped you did. I feel better, knowing you have an eye on me.”

I repeat her words in my mind, unsure if what I heard was actually what she said. I’m in shock. “You’re not mad?”

Glancing at the hallway on the screen once more, she hands the phone back to me. “No, I’m not mad.”

She chuckles, and it’s official—she’s battier than me. Wetting her lips, she peers up at me, and I see the switch flick in her eyes, her pupils dilating, like she’s slowly putting together that I’ve seen everything.

Her self-love sessions. Her occasional cryfests, where she lets everything out. The countless times she’s talked to herself and Penelope. But I love it. Watching her is my favorite part of the day.

In the blink of an eye, the intrigue fades from her stare, quickly replaced with uncertainty and horror. “What’s in this house? What keeps tormenting me? I felt a hand grab me … a voice ordered me away, but there was no one there.”

A memory appears in my mind—from the night she ran into her room, saying she heard that scary voice telling her to leave. I fill her in on my discovery when I went back and checked the cameras. No one was in the hallway that night aside from her. She had heard footsteps following after her, but I didn’t see anyone there.

I absolutely believe in ghosts and spirits, and if this is that, how incredible because it’s a real ghost, and how fucking terrifying since it's targeting my girlfriend.

She’s speechless when I finish, staring at me with an indiscernible gaze. “You swear this isn’t part of your game? Trying to freak me out so I cling to you?”

I scoff. “While I appreciate that you think I’m such a creative genius, no. I’ll only scare you enough to heighten your senses and make you laugh, not to cause you actual fear, Mona.”

She groans. “I know. I just don’t understand.”

“We’ll get to the bottom of it,” I assure her, an idea coming to mind that I’ll need to look into later. “I promise you.”

“How can you be so sure?” she murmurs, her voice soft and vulnerable.

Reaching out, I brush her cheek, wiping her worries away. “Because when it comes to you, nothing can stop me from keeping you happy and safe.”