Page 55 of Your Masked Haunting

What do you mean?

Spooky Boy: Look up

Look up?

My gaze flicks up to the entrance of the tavern, and I spot a recognizable delivery guy with a pizza box and bouquet of flowers in his hands. His gaze lands on me, and a smile breaks across his face.

“I hope he doesn’t waste your time, sending you on these silly missions,” I mutter to the younger guy as he approaches, handing me the flowers and setting the pizza down on the counter.

He shakes his head without thought. “I’m honored to help him, truly. He’s a great guy. And he pays me insane amounts when I bring you stuff. I never turn it down.”

I chuckle. “Good to know. Then I’m glad he’s taking care of you.”

Winking, he beams. “Me too. Have a good night, Mona.”

There’s my name again, on the mouth of a mere stranger.

“You too.”

This arrangement’s different from the last delivery. There are black calla lilies, but centered in the vase is a flower unlike anything I’ve seen before. There’s also a card I'm desperate to open, but I’m going back to my room first.

I finish the last half of my drink and pay my tab before carrying my pizza and flowers from the basement to the third floor. My heart is floating, stomach fluttering when I seal myself inside my room and pluck the card from the clip in the vase.

Yes! I was hoping it’d be one of those handmade cards. I haven’t gotten one in a little while, and I missed them. They’re the sweetest gifts I’ve ever received, and I cherish them.

My Scaredy Cat,

Favorite pizza in hand, dessert on the stand, a restock of candy inside.

You earned your rest, curl up in your nest, unwind, and close your eyes.

I’m away tonight but always here, watching with my hidden eyes.

When I return, I’m coming for you; there’s nowhere you'll hide.

Out of my sight or out of my reach, I will always find.

—Your Masked Haunting

Ashot fires into my thigh, agony lighting up my leg like the puck pushed a maximum pain button on the back of my knee.

“Fuck!”

“Shit, Cas! You all right?” Kol glides over to where I’m now lying on the ice, holding my leg.

“Yeah. I’ll be good. Just give me a second,” I groan, catching my breath and thankful that the injury feels superficial.

It’ll likely only leave a bruise—a massive one—but it could be so much worse. I’ve taken enough shots like this to know.

Pushing to my skates with Kol’s help, I wince, the stabbing pain gradually shifting to a deep, throbbing ache. Adding weight to it as I glide toward the bench, I curse again as pain lances the back of my knee and thigh.

“That’s what I get for helping the defense out,” I tell Coach Rafferty with a smirk as I hop to the bench, plopping down on the seat.

He scoffs and chuckles. “If you had just stayed in your line and not tried to save a day that didn’t need saving, you’d still be on the ice.”

I chortle, knowing damn well that he’s right. “Just trying to show the new guys how it’s done.”

A deep laugh pulls my attention to the ice, where Ledger and Ransom are skating up, changing out with the next defensive pair.