Page 2 of Good Boys Don’t Bite

“What the fuck?”

His voice came out quieter than intended. The figure's head tilted. Not dramatically. Barely an inch. Mason's stomach tightened.

“Dude.”

Nothing. He looked around, suddenly expecting laughter. Someone filming from behind a hedge. Caleb jumping out from between two parked cars. Brennan screaming that they'd gotten him. Nobody appeared. Mason looked back at the mask.

“Okay.”

He forced a smile.

“Very funny.”

The figure remained perfectly still.

“You got me.”

Nothing. Mason took one step backward. The masked man stepped forward. Mason stopped. So did he. A cold sensation moved slowly from the base of Mason's spine to his shoulders. He took another step backward. The man matched it.

“What do you want?”

No answer. Mason swallowed.

“Who are you?”

The black eyes watched him. There was something particularly awful about not being able to see the person's expression. Mason couldn't tell whether the man was angry. Amused. Drunk. He couldn't even tell precisely where he was looking. The mask gave him nothing. Mason reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

“I'm calling the cops.”

The masked man started walking. Not running. Walking. Straight toward him. Mason's pulse lurched.

“Hey.”

The man continued.

“I'm fucking serious.”

Thirty feet. Mason unlocked his phone. Twenty-five. His thumb slipped against the screen.

“Stop.”

Twenty. Mason found the emergency-call button. He looked down for less than a second. When he looked up, the streetlight was empty. Mason froze. The man was gone. His mouth went dry.

“What the fuck?”

He looked toward the nearest yard. Nothing. Across the street. Nothing. There hadn't been enough time. There couldn't have been enough time. Mason backed away from the empty streetlight while keeping the phone raised in front of him. 911 waited on the screen. His thumb hovered above the call button. He didn't press it. Because what the fuck was he supposed to say? Hello, somebody stood on a sidewalk wearing a mask and then walked away? The dispatcher would ask whether he'd been threatened. No. Touched. No. Did he know the person? No. Was he intoxicated? Mason looked at the glowing numbers on his screen. Fuck. He lowered the phone.

“Asshole.”

He didn't know whether he meant the masked man or himself. Mason started walking again. Fast. He checked behind him every few seconds. Nothing. The entrance to Saint Augustine's Park appeared on his right, marked by two stone pillars and an iron sign almost completely hidden by ivy. During daylight, the park was barely a park at all. A handful of walking trails, benches, a playground, and a narrow patch of woods behind the church. At night, the entrance looked like a hole cut into the world. Normally Mason would have gone through it. It shaved several minutes off the walk to Kappa. Not tonight.

“Fuck that.”

He continued along the road. His phone vibrated again. Tyler.

TYLER: u good?

Mason typed.