Page 193 of Phobia
Chapter 3
A few days later, Kellen had found another coworker to cover his friend Allison’s shift, and I was ecstatic. I owed Tamara, whoever that was, a huge thank you for stepping in and helping. After spending a few hours on a paper I had due in a couple of weeks, I was rewarding myself by focusing on finding him a costume for the party. Kellen had reluctantly agreed to wear one, so I was going through my closet, flipping through my old things to see if there was something that would work for him since he hadn’t seemed particularly interested in spending much money on one. “It’s okay. I have a million and one. You won’t even need to spend a penny,” I’d said earlier before he’d left for class. He’d looked at me with one eyebrow raised and his top lip twisted, a silent “Uh huh, yeah okay.” After giving me a quick peck on the lips, he’d headed out.
I shoved a few things aside and pulled out last year’s choice—a navy and white sailor costume that had even less fabric than what I planned to wear this year. With a grin, I snapped a photo of it and texted it to Kellen.
ME:This is it.
KELLEN:That ain’t it. Unless by “it” you mean a rag to clean Gage’s piss off the toilet seat.
Okay, so the slutty sailor was out. Too bad, because he’d have looked fine as hell in it. I chuckled to myself and hung the costume back up.
ME:Are you equating my fashion choices with a piss rag? I am highly offended.
KELLEN:My nuts would be hanging out of that in about 0.3 seconds. I’m all for freeballing, but I need more than a scrap of fabric. Your mouth covers more of me than that thing would.
A hot blush crawled up my face and neck, and my stomach flipped. His package was quite impressive. His entire body, head to toe, was impressive.
ME:Well, still. I’m offended. Definitely frowning right now.
A slight exaggeration, considering I had a huge grin on my face.
KELLEN:Don’t be mad, babe. I’d much rather see your gorgeous smile.
And now my grin was so wide it ran the risk of straining my cheeks.
KELLEN:Did you decide what you’re wearing?
I’d snagged three new costumes for myself at Howl-O-Lujah Express, the Halloween pop-up store that was open mid-August through the first week of November. My three favorites were a sexy lion, a sexy mad scientist, and a sexy pirate, and I’d bought them all because I couldn’t choose at the time. Yes, there was a theme to my selections. I was a firm believer in working your best assets even in a costume, and I fully embraced the slutty-Halloween vibe. For me, that meant showing off my shoulders, abs, and ass. And if that happened to also accentuate my front bulge, all the better. I wasn’t as muscular as Kellen, but I had the whole lean muscle thing going for me. My low body fat percentage made the muscles I did have pop, and I had a perky butt. With all that in mind, I’d decided this morning which costume to wear.
ME:Sure did.
KELLEN:Let’s see it.
ME:Wouldn’t you rather be surprised on Halloween?
KELLEN:I’ll be home soon. Put it on.
I stripped and took the lion costume off the hanger. The outfit portion was a stretchy, butterscotch faux-suede romper with suspender-like straps and an open front that dipped down low into booty shorts. There was a detachable hood with ears and faux-fur trim. I planned on pairing it with black leather platform Docs that I’d popped yellow laces into. It was going to look amazing.
I dressed and stood in front of my bedroom mirror, turning this way and that.Yeah, my ass looks damn good in this. I pulled the boots on and laced them up, then squatted in front of the mirror. My parents would drop dead from revulsion and embarrassment if they could see me now. Too bad I couldn’t take a quick flight back to Tennessee and make that happen.
Maneuvering slightly, I positioned myself into one of the “Ten selfie poses that make you look and feel like a badass” I’d learned from one of my favorite photographers on social media. I changed my angle just slightly, and with my weight on my bent back leg, and my arm resting on my front knee, my boots and dick were the center of attention. That photographer knew what he was talking about. I looked fucking badass, if I said so myself. As I was about to snap the photo, two things happened: I realized I’d forgotten to pull the hood up, and Gage started laughing hysterically from the doorway.
“Be helpful for once in your life and come put my ears on me,” I deadpanned without looking up. I heard him approach and saw his reflection in the mirror from the waist down. He ruffled my hair, and then pulled my hood into place. “Thank you.” Once he stepped aside, I finally snapped a few photos.
“Oh, yes, honey, that’s the one. Save that one.” Laughter colored his tone.
I stood, ready to jokingly give him hell. “You better watch your—FUCK!” I yelped as I turned around. My heart pounded away in my chest and panic zipped through me like lightning. Tripping over my feet to get away from him, I fell face-first onto my bed right into a pile of clean laundry. “Jesus fucking Christ, Gage!” My yell was muffled by the clothing. Taking a millisecond-long peek over my shoulder, I saw the grotesque mask he wore. It had nasty, putrid looking flesh, and the mouth area was stapled or stitched shut. I didn’t take a long enough glance to know for sure which, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to check again. I buried my face back in the laundry. Shuddering in fear, even though I knew it was Gage, I pointed toward my door without looking up. “Get that thing out of here.”
“Jeez, Graysin, what the hell? Are you okay?” There was real concern coming from Gage. He left the room, to do what I’d asked, I hoped, and made a speedy return. I heard his footsteps as he drew near me. “Hey. I got rid of the mask, okay?” He rubbed a palm over my back in soothing circles.
I believed him, but even with my eyes closed I kept seeing that terrifying face staring down at me—not the mask Gage had just been wearing, but the wicked scarecrow mask that Alex used to scare me with when we were younger. While I was sleeping, he’d sneak into my room, straddle my chest, and whisper my name, getting louder and louder until I woke up. I’d be disoriented, half awake, and see this horrific head of torn burlap with rotten flesh protruding. The face had opaque solid white eyes, gruesome teeth, and chunks of straw poking out through the cheeks, forehead, and ears. Alex would flatten himself out over me, preventing me from getting up or even moving very much. There was the overwhelming feeling of suffocating. My legs would thrash under me while I punched and pushed against his chest, to no avail. The sickly-sweet stench of his sweat would invade my nostrils, making me want to puke. I could smell and taste it even now as the memories flooded through me. My mouth watered and bile crept up my throat.
But I felt Gage’s warm palm on my back, and it grounded me. I wasn’t thirteen years old anymore, at the mercy of my cruel brother. I inhaled slowly to the count of five and exhaled to the count of ten. My fingers brushed over something soft—my blue fleece blanket. I focused on the smells in my room, inhaling again slowly, and picked up the scent of my cologne. I concentrated and listened to the sounds around me. The wind rattling the shutters. The quiet creak of the stairs. The squeak of the bed as Gage plopped down beside me. The panic that had sent my heart into a frenzied tailspin began to slip away and my body sagged with relief.
I peered over at him, glad to see no judgment on his face. “Could we maybe pretend that never happened?”
“Uh, could you maybe tell me what the hell just happened first, andthenwe can pretend it didn’t happen?” His brows were knitted together, and he worried at his bottom lip. I’d clearly freaked him the hell out, so I supposed I owed him an explanation.
