Page 8 of Trick or Treat

Red leans in closer, his gaze unwavering. “Yeah, I get that, but you could at least treat her–” he starts, his voice low and dripping with frustration.

“Treat her? Treat her how?” Sil shoots back, his voice rising with indignation. “She’s not a damn princess in a fairy tale, Red. She’s either on board with the plan or she isn’t. I owe her fucking nothing.”

Red’s fists clench on the table. “You owe her fucking human decency! She cares about you, and you’re just using her to play some sick game; it’s not fucking right.”

“Right?” Sil explodes, standing up and knocking the chair backward. “What’s right? That I should let her think this is real? That I should throw myself into some fucking emotional pit just so she can feel validated? No fucking thank you. I’ve got enough on my fucking plate without trying to manage herfeelings.”

“I’m just saying, keep it real. This isn’t a fucking video game. When you fuck someone over, it doesn’t just reset,” Red insists, unwavering even as Sil seethes.

The silence hangs for a moment, thick and vibrating with hidden truths. From the corner of the room, I watch the exchange unfold—the unsteady dance between anger and betrayal.

“Hey, how about we switch the topic back to... I don’t know... the fucking murder? It got worse than that police report on your sister last week.” Red turns to me, momentarily distracted, his brow furrowed. “What, you’re just going to ignore this?”

“No, I’m paying attention. I’m all for your little moral high ground... But let’s not forget we’ve got enough on our hands right now,” I growl, making it a point to roll my eyes so he can see.

I point toward the flickering screen, where the news anchor moves on to some blurry footage from a security camera, the grim reality of the city unfolding through the static. “You want to talk about crazy? That’s what fucking crazy looks like, not whatever bullshit drama you’ve got going on.”

But Sil isn’t finished. He narrows his eyes at Red. “Look, if you’re so worried about feelings, maybe you should try being her brother for once.”

“Whatever,” Red mutters, but I can see hesitation ripple across his face.

He misunderstood what it meant to play both sides—the protector and the realist—and that was a dangerous position to inhabit; it made him vulnerable, torn between what he wanted to believe and what was real.

The commotion fades as we absorb the news report, the anchor listing victims and motives with a clinical detachment, flashing images of familiar faces from around town.

I feel anger pulse through me, a reminder of why we have to tread carefully, but I can’t ignore the knot in my stomach—a nagging sensethat what Sil has turned into isn’t going to be easy to fix, and it is far from over.

“Listen,” I finally say, the weight of choice hanging heavy on my tongue. “Whatever’s going on with you guys, it can’t stay like this. We need to move before our shit gets hot and our fucking lives are turned completely upside down.

“Move where?” Red scoffs, still clearly invested in the mess between him and Sil.

“Wherever,” I say, biting back the sigh that threatens. “We need a break from this place—new faces, new vibes. The walls are closing in. Silence can be worse than danger.”

Sil shrugs, adamant, the anger slowly softening in his tone. “You might be onto something. But I’m not ready to leave this fucking place. We can move houses, but I’m staying put.”

Saint

Trapped and utterly drained from the relentless arguing with Riley, I feel a suffocating weight surrounding me as I wrestle with my temper. I understand that not every situation demands a reaction, yet I find it impossible to keep silent when it comes to this—him, her, all of it.

A surge of seething anger washes over me as I glance back, catching a glimpse of him sporting that infuriating expression that gnaws at my very core. Exhausted from arguing, I rise, reaching for my black hoodie and slipping it on before striding toward the door.

“Where are you going?” my brother asks, concern lacing his voice.

“Out,” I snap, not bothering to turn around.

I fling open the front door and step into the biting cold, letting the frigid air envelope my heated skin. Despite the steady snowfall surrounding me, I walk down the lonely street, hands shoved deep in my pockets, my thoughts consumed by a single person—her.

She’s still unaware of my presence and of how I’ve been watching from the shadows, sneaking into her room at night just to listen to her sleep. She might sense something, but she has no inkling of the intensity of my obsession, and that feeling clings to me, refusing to let go.

But the guys are oblivious. I can’t confide in them—playing dumb is my only option, pretending I don’t know who she is. I know I’m making too much of it; they don’t even know who she is, and they haven’t mentioned her. I know they saw her when I did; it’s undeniable that she didn’t catch their attention.

But dammit, she caught mine, and now there’s no escape from the fixation consuming my mind.

Now, Riley’s fucking sister has thrown everything into disarray. She was never part of the plan, yet here I stand, grappling with a reality I never wanted—one I never anticipated facing.

It all began with the uncertainty of whether she’d notice me lurking one night in her friend’s room. I had no idea if she saw the blood staining my hands and clothes or caught a whiff of death and charred flesh that lingered on me. I couldn’t take the risk, so I drowned my fears in alcohol and approached her—the rest is history.

The crunch of snow beneath my feet is almost deafening, but it doesn’t drown out the tumultuous thoughts spiraling in my mind. Each step takes me further from my brother’s concerned gaze, further from the binds of our twisted reality.

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