“No, it’s not sad. I get it.”
Kayla ran her fingers through the fold of her white tutu, and for a moment, she looked sad, like a doll no child wanted to play with.
Chapter 26
Kayla
It was embarrassing to admit that I’d spent last Halloween completely by myself locked up in my one-bedroom apartment that I could hardly afford. I’d eaten Halloween candy because I couldn’t afford a bottle of wine, and I’d crashed early because I’d been so tired from working the last sixty-five days in a row that I hadn’t been able to keep my eyes open.
I couldn’t help but wonder what it might have been like to have someone with me that night. Someone to share the candy with so my belly didn’t get hard with bloating, someone to watch a horror movie with instead of a romantic comedy so I could sleep easy, someone to cuddle and share warmth with before dozing off to sleep.
Someone to just be there so I wasn’t alone.
“Kayla?”
I glanced up at Lukas. He was watching me with a furrowed brow.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
I nodded vigorously. “Yes, yes, of course I am.”
He put his empty granola wrapper in his pocket and pushed off the wall to come stand beside my chair. “Aren’t you going to ask me how I spent Halloween last year?”
I tilted my head back to look up at him. “How did you spend Halloween last year?”
He smiled, but it didn’t touch his eyes. “By myself.”
“What did you do?”
“I stayed at the office until ten thirty. Surprise, surprise. I only left when I realized I was holding up the night-shift cleaning crew who all had families to get home to. Otherwise, there’s no telling how late I’d have stayed. When I got home, I had a drink, and then I went to bed.”
I licked my lips. “Why are you telling me this?”
He crouched down beside my chair, and this time, he smiled earnestly. “I just didn’t want you to feel bad about being alone. We’re both losers, you see.”
I hesitated before throwing my head back and laughing. “I am not a loser.”
“Are you sure? Maybe just a bit? Because in recent weeks, I’ve realized that I am most definitely a loser.”
“You’re not a loser, Lukas. You’re just very involved in your work. And so am I.”
“Exactly. Losers. We have no social life. No commitments outside of our careers.”
“That’s not true.”
He arched an eyebrow at me. “Name three social outings you have planned for the next three months.”
“I—” I paused, frowned, and considered the question. “I don’t have any. Do you?”
“No.”
“Do normal people?”
He laughed and put his hand over mine. “With Thanksgiving around the corner? Yes, I would say most people have plans in the near future.”
“Oh my God,” I breathed. “We are losers.”
“I tried to let you down easy.”
I shifted in the rocking chair to get comfortable. It creaked and rocked softly. “Well, I guess we all make sacrifices for what is most important to us. My work is what’s most important to me. The people I help are what’s most important to me. I don’t think I’d change it. Would you?”
He searched my eyes for a beat before shaking his head slowly. “No, I don’t think I would. I mean, maybe I’d spend more time with Lisa, and my mother, and you, but—”
A bell rang to signal the start of the next hour of haunting. The lights went out and a hush settled over us. I wanted to hear more of what Lukas was going to say but he straightened, rolled his shoulders, and moved to claim his place against the opposite wall. He shared a small, tight-lipped smile with me as we both settled in.
And waited.
We heard the screams coming and knew a procession of teenagers were on their way toward us. The haunted house took about fifteen minutes to walk through, and about eight of those minutes happened up ahead of us. Lukas and I were basically dead center of the maze, so when people came to us, they were vulnerable. They knew they had a ways to go and they’d already had a few good scares before reaching us, which made them easier to trigger.
The group of teenagers drew closer.
Lukas sank against the corner of the wall and I tucked my chin to my knees and watched the doorway the group would enter through.
The baby soundtrack shrieked and wailed and the mother hummed eerily in the background. For added effect, I began slowly rocking the chair.
Lukas gave me a thumbs-up and I hid my smile behind my bent knees.
The teenagers arrived. Two young boys entered first. They had to be around thirteen or fourteen years old. They walked shoulder to shoulder, muttering to themselves, trying to act tough, and then two young girls came in behind them. One of the girls looked truly terrified. She clung to her friend, her eyes wide with fear, her feet inching tentatively forward, her lips moving as she pleaded with her friend not to abandon her.
I wondered if Lukas and I should hold back with this group.
Lukas sprang to life in his corner. His arms shot up and he let out a bellow of a sound. The boys yelped and sprang forward to rush to the other door while the girls cowered at the entrance. I untangled myself from the rocking chair to tell Lukas to ease up, but I was too late.
The terrified young girl started to scream in earnest. There was no play left in her. This was genuine fear.
I rushed for the light switch.
Lukas beat me to it. He flicked the light on and killed the audio, and we simultaneously shielded our eyes against the glare of the lights. My ears rang from the screaming and the loud baby crying track.
Lukas unzipped the front of his clown costume to show the girl his T-shirt underneath.
