Page 16 of Masked Mayhem

No name is written on it—nothing to help me decipher who it came from, leaving me trembling with terror. Has Dustin found me? Is this some twisted game of his to scare me? Or is it someone else entirely? With no answers, I snatch the paper off the floor, toss it into my nightstand drawer, and gather my things for a shower. I refuse to be a prisoner in my own home while some unknown asshole thinks it’s amusing to fucking terrorize me.

The hot water cascades over my skin, washing away the lingering feelings of dread that cling to me like a smothering blanket. I try to cleanse my mind, let the steam obscure my thoughts, focusing instead on the scent of my lavender shampoo and the way it envelops me in a soothing haze. But no matter how hard I scrub, I can’t wash away the gnawing anxiety rooted deep within me—what if the message is from Dustin?

I force myself to breathe in sync with the water's flow, counting the beats in my chest as I repeat the mantra: "I am safe. I am safe." But the pulse of uncertainty beats louder.

Draped in a towel, I step out of the shower and into the cool air of my bedroom, my thoughts racing like the quick flicker of the memories tied to Dustin—the laughter, the darkness, the way he turned love into something suffocating. I shake my head, trying to dispel them as I dress quickly, throwing on my favorite oversized band tee and jeans. Makeup can wait; I need to figure things out first. I can’t allow that panic to settle in again.

My phone buzzes again, and I feel a shock run through me. I approach it cautiously, half-expecting it to be the unknown number once more, but it’s just Lux, reminding me of work later. My heart rate slows just a notch, but the mystery still looms overhead.

As I finish getting ready, a plan forms in my mind. I can’t let fear dictate my life. It’s time to confront the doubt. I decide to take a walk outside, hoping the fresh air will clear my head. Escaping this cramped room could bring some clarity, or at least make it easier to breathe again.

The sunlight is glaring as I step outside; the fresh breeze feels liberating against my skin. I tuck a stray hair behind my ear and focus on each step, venturing toward the Dunkin a few blocks away. The aroma of coffee mixes with the faint scent of blooming flowers, creating a delightful sensory overload, and I finally allow myself a small smile.

As I approach Dunkin, I see a familiar figure sitting at a table outside: Red, his dark hair tousled in the wind, a thoughtful look plastered across his handsome features. It feels both soothing and unsettling to see him; my heart skips a beat, struck by the memories of last night at work flooding my senses—the heat of his breath against my skin, the way he made me feel alive again.

Trying to shake off the overwhelming emotions, I force my legs to move forward, and he looks up, his expression shifting from pensive to warm once he notices me.

“Hey, I wasn't expecting to see you here today,” he calls, waving me over.

“Hey,” I reply, attempting to sound more casual than I feel. “Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all. Coffee?” He gestures to the table; it seems he’s ordering his second cup.

“Thanks,” I mumble, looking around to distract myself from all my swirling thoughts, but he’s watching me intently, those piercing eyes making it hard to hide my unease.

“Everything okay?” he asks, concern lacing his tone.

“Yeah. Just... kind of a weird day,” I admit, feeling the weight of honesty pulling me closer to him.

“Weird how?”

I open my mouth to explain about the messages, still unsure exactly how to phrase it, when the tension in my stomach knots at the thought of dragging him into my mess. But as I look into his eyes, searching for a way to convey my unease, the words spill out.

“I got these messages, and I’m not sure who they’re from...”

His expression darkens, brows furrowing slightly, and I note how his body shifts closer, instinctively creating a barrier between me and the uncertainty lingering outside in the world. Still getting used to seeing him without his mask, I can't seem to rip my eyes off of his face.

“What did they say?” he asks, voice low and steady.

I hesitate, picturing the paper tucked away safely in my drawer and the fleeting fear it brought me, but there’s a determination surging within me now, fueled by my connection with him.

“They said, ‘I need to see you.’”

A flicker of recognition crosses his face, and I brace for the worst. “Whitney, listen to me. Whoever sent that might not have good intentions.”

“I know, Captain Obvious,” I whisper sarcastically, all the while trying to hold his gaze.

Red leans in closer, an unspoken promise of loyalty conveyed in his fierce stare. “Just don’t dismiss this. You need to be cautious.”

Suddenly, my phone vibrates against the table, snapping my attention away. I scoot closer and reach for it, my stomach twisting again as I see the unknown number’s name pop up on the screen, a new message blinking insistently.

Are you ignoring me, Whitney?.

Panic surges through my veins, my heart pounding like it’s trying to escape. I glance back at Red, and his expression has hardened into an unreadable mask, opening the floodgates of anxiety within me as I fumble for my words. “I—”

But I don’t get to finish. Red's chair scrapes against the ground as he stands abruptly, urgency radiating from him. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

Before I can protest, he’s already striding away, the warmth he’d wrapped me in dissipating into the air, leaving me with a deep sense of foreboding. The coffee shop, once a comforting haven, suddenly feels like a cage, secrets waiting to be uncovered and shadows lingering just outside the door.

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