Page 11 of Masked March

Tossing his hands behind his head, he throws his feet up on the desk and crosses them at the ankles. Like he just won a big poker match. “Yes, ma’am.”

The dimples in his cheeks don’t give me the same buzz as they usually do. Jake’s a catch, that’s for sure…

But he’s not The Reaper.

Instead of going straight home, I venture into town and visit a salon for an updated cut, a massage, and a facial. When I get home, I take a nap. By the time evening rolls around, I’m dining on a home cooked gourmet meal complete with my favorite red wine. I kick up my heels onto the coffee table and sink back into my sofa. Life isgood.

My mind trails often to the envelope next to my bed. IthinkI understand where he’s leading me. Slipping into some jeans and a sweater, I pack my purse and stuff the note inside. On my way out of the building, I stop by Roy’s station.

“Has anyone been in my apartment?”

Roy looks stunned by my question and leans forward, like I’m about to tell the punchline of a joke. “No, Miss Locke. No one ‘cept you. Why?”

“No reason. Well, I think some things were tampered with. Is it possible to have my codes changed?”

He blinks several times like I’ve made a superfluous request. “Of course. I’ll call the guy right away.”

“Thanks, Roy.”

It’s dark by the time I pull out of the parking garage. Winter chill is still in the air, so I pull on my jacket. Being the middle of the week in March, the high school football field is deserted when I reach it.

The smell of the place is overwhelmingly familiar when I step out of my car. My old stage was right there on the sidelines as head cheerleader, gazing up at the fans in the stands. With a loud squeak, I step through the chain-link gate and onto the running track surrounding the green lawn.

Painted dead center on the fifty yard line is our old mascot, The Reaper. Just beneath its terrifying grin is something that sparkles in the moonlight.When a dark cloud rolls past, it fades into blackness, then reappears brighter than before.What is it?

I stroll over the firm but not frozen grass, making my way toward the object. As I near it, my heart pounds hard in my chest with recognition.My Homecoming Queen tiara…

Bending over, I reach forward and feel it’s cold faux diamonds in my hands. When I lift it up to place it on my head, an inscription on the circlet catches my eye.

It should have been me.

I almost drop it. A sob wrenches from my chest, but before I can run, a figure approaches and presses his chest to my back. He slides his gloved hands over mine and helps me place it on my head.

I don’t need to turn.

Don’t need to look.

All I ask into the night air with a frosted breath escaping me is, “Link?”

The masked figure leans forward to place his chin on my shoulder. His deep voice resonates against my skin as he says, “Wrong, prom queen. I told you who I am.”

“I know who you are and why you’re here. I’m sor?—”

His hand slaps over my mouth before I can get the words out. A formidable arm grips me by the waist and holds me firm so I can’t look at him. “Don’t you dare. You want to be escorted down the fifty? Then you should run from me. I’m your haunted past come to claim you for his own. Once I catch you, you’reminefrom now until our last breath.”

The words hold a finality that terrifies me. Does he mean he’ll kill us both? How far does his obsession go?

With a shove against my mid back, he growls, “Run.”

My legs take off like I’m in track back in school again. I’m not sure what he’ll do. Even as I scream when he gets close, I wonder… maybe I should let him catch me. What does it matter now?

I deserve his punishment and I think I’m going to get it.

So when I fall and flip around to face him, I let him grip the back of my neck and stay still.

For Lincoln Pierce, the boy whose heart I crushed.

Five

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