Page 5 of Masked Instincts

But all I see is a person standing and looking through the window. Black and white skeleton paint covers their face as they peek through, showing a sliver of white from their eyes. Or is it a mask? I can’t even tell from here.

“Chase,” I gasp as I turn my head away.

“What?” He snaps, irritated that I keep speaking in class. Chase has a strict ‘don’t talk to me in class' rule.

“There’s someone." My words cut off when I turn back to see whoever I saw, gone. Chills run over my body. Goosebumps rise and my breathing seems to stop.

“What?” Chase asks again.

“Nothing. Forget it.”

four

JAX

It may be a little selfish of me to feel jealous towards Luna. I long for her in depraved ways. How I want to ruin her, piece by little piece. Let the blood drip from her veins and slurp it up like a vampire. But that doesn’t stop me from looking at what she has: a college education, friends, and an apartment that doesn’t look like a squatter’s house.

I can’t afford shit. I escaped prison and the only thing I could find was a construction/landscaping job that pays me under the table and doesn’t ask questions or care about who I am. It’s not much either because I don’t have the right experience. How does one find experience in prison? I could cave in and call my mom to ask for help, but the last thing I want to do is call mommy and ask her for money at the age of thirty. Absolutely not. I’ll suffer and keep my pride. Talk about high ego and shit.

Any money that has come my way, I’ve paid my rent and spent it on Luna. Setting up the cameras, leaving her small gifts. It’s not much, but maybe one day she’ll realize it’s all that I can do.

I’m working along the sidewalks of the strip downtown, mask-free, but my hood is up to keep from curious eyes. Luna passes by, pink rollerblades hanging from her hand, and with that stupid blonde kid she spends all of her time with. I can’t stand how much time they spend together. They never exchange touches except for an occasional hug. The kid might be too chicken-shit to make his move, but I’m not.

I’m just waiting for the perfect moment to swoop in and I know she will fucking love me.

The perfect time will be when she attends her Halloween party this weekend. She doesn't know she's going yet, thinking she had until the end of the month, but I overheard her friend talking. Sure, I've been following Luna, but I've been following the blonde too. Trying to make sure he doesn't do anything to my girl and all. When the party comes, I can sneak in without anyone noticing, dressed up and ready to play. That’s still a couple of days away and I need some type of fixing before then. She’s like a sickening drug, keeping me hooked, and afraid to let go. The downfall of not seeing her or being near her… That’s so much worse than anything I can think of. It’s worse than withdrawal from any real drugs.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out, seeing the caller ID. Answering the phone, I stop raking the sidewalk and greet my boss.

“Hey,” I say casually.

“You almost done?” He skips pleasantries, as usual, asking and demanding like I’m his own little minion. I suppose that I am.

“Just about done. Have to bring the trash to the dump. What’s up?”

“If you want extra cash, go to the college. They’ve asked for the dead flowers to be taken care of.”

“I’ll do it. I’ll just go to the du-”

“I don’t care. Get it done. Let me know, and I’ll get you the cash,” he interrupts and hangs up before I respond. What a sweet guy.

In the time I took the phone call, I lost sight of Luna and her friend. It means nothing because I’ll always find her.

My job for the day is done which means I have time to play.

The bags of trash and leaves are in the bed of the beat-up ‘08 Ford Ranger I bought for dirt cheap. Whenever the engine starts it sounds as if the it's going to fall out of the car. Before bringing the bags to the dump, I leave my truck parked on the curb and walk towards Luna’s apartment. On the way, I smoke a cigarette, letting the poison do its work. I don’t even care if this little white stick kills me one day.

Her lights are off, the room is darkened, and the sun is falling behind the horizon. To the naked eye, she’s nowhere to be seen. I pull up the camera feeds on my phone and double-check to see if she’s inside anywhere. She’s not. She must still be at the coffee shop, library, or somewhere else. It's this time of day that she's almost never home.

With light feet, I carry myself to her apartment door and pick the lock with a paper clip that I keep in my pocket. I work slowly in case anyone walks by and wonders what I’m doing. I breathe in through my mouth and out of my nose to calm myself.

I’m not nervous about the thought of being caught. I’m just excited to get inside and smell her scent. To feel closer to her.

Every day the urge to be near her grows more intense, filling me with a craving that only she can fill, but I’m not the man for her. I’ll be the man for her only because we’re tied, connected, one with each other, but she’s going to hate every second of it. Luna won’t be able to fight the way her body will sing for me.

Her apartment is clean and modern. Granite countertops in the kitchen, a sleek black coffee table in the living room, and a soft white couch. There’s a huge flat-screen TV mounted on the wall. And I can’t help but wonder how she has such a nice place and materials when she’s just a college student who doesn’t even have a job.

The air is scented with cinnamon and sugar. Dirty dishes lie in the sink. The trash beneath the counter is almost overflowing. This shows that she’s human, a normal girl who lives her life like everyone else. I walk in and out of each room. The bathroom was littered with dirty clothes. Her bedroom had an unmade bed, but when I got inside, I laid on top of it. I inhaled the scent of her pillow and bed. It smelled like sugary goodness with a hint of sweat.