Page 73 of Out for Blood
“Better.”
“Good.”
“I’m hyped,” Vigo said. “The masquerade has tons of free candy.”
Sugar was the last thing Vigo needed but I kept that observation to myself.
Jagger frowned as Vigo. “You’re not wearing a shirt.”
“It’s part of the costume.”
“There will be kids there,” Jagger said. “Put on a fucking shirt.”
“Fine,” Vigo said. “But if you think I’m going to let the kids have all the candy, you’ve got another think coming.”
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VIGO
The candy wasthe best part. I mean, wearing my mask was practically synonymous with fun — the Hunt, the robberies we did while we wore them (although we’d been too busy to pull one of those in a while) — but the only place I ever got to wear my mask and have candy was at the Blackwell Falls Harvest Masquerade.
The park was packed so we left the G-Wagon a few blocks away and went on foot.
Halloween was big in Blackwell Falls. The streets were crowded with costumed kids holding pumpkin-shaped buckets and teenagers who’d done the bare minimum to dress up carrying pillow cases for the candy they hoped to score for one more year.
The houses around the park went all out every year: cobwebs and spiders, skeletons hanging from the trees, colored light flickering from inside, spooky music playing over outdoor sound systems.
“We definitely have to hit the haunted house,” I said as we passed the local realtor’s office.
They always made a haunted house inside and at the end they gave out full-size candy bars.
And yeah, I could have bought a candy bar anytime but it was more fun to get it for free.
Cassie laughed behind her mask. “I used to get so scared in there. Bram loved it.”
Not going to lie: I got hot around the collar seeing her in the mask. It made me think about our first night with her in the tunnels, when we’d chained her naked to the walls.
She hadn’t been wearing a mask then, but we had and now I couldn’t stop thinking about fucking her while she wore one too.
My intrusive thoughts were out of control.
The park was decorated too. Lanterns hung from the trees and large light installations had been set up along the walkways where kids stopped to point at a giant orange pumpkin, a huge purple spider, a white ghost.
Fog machines churned out fog while a sign directed parents to a sensory friendly area for kids.
Monster Mash played from a bandstand at one end of the park where a large sign behind the DJ readWelcome to the Blackwell Falls Harvest Masquerade, courtesy of the Prescott Foundation.
“I forgot how pretty the park is on Halloween,” Cassie said. “Or maybe I just didn’t notice because I was too focused on the candy when I was a kid.”
“Some of us outgrow that part,” Jagger said, glancing at Vigo.
“Sucks to be you,” I said.
We wandered over to the games area where Hawk won a goldfish for Cassie. She gave it to a kid wearing a Jessie costume from Toy Story who, according to her mom, had been trying to win for the last twenty minutes, but only after removing her hawk mask because the kid looked absolutely terrified of us, Cassie included.
And I had to admit, all these little kids in costumes, clutching their candy in bags and plastic tubs, were doing something fuckingweirdto my chest. I usually didn’t give two shits about kids — I mean they were fine, I’d just never had the desire to become the proud owner of a little human — but now they weren’t just kids but glimpses into a possible future with Cassie.
Was there room for something so normal in our lives?
