Page 63 of Haunting Phantom
He abruptly grabs the giant box from my hand, and panic takes over, because why else would a masked man rip a box out of my hands, other than to steal it?
“Hey!” I shout after him. “That’s mine.”
But instead of running off with my expensive mixer, the dude stops just outside my shop, waiting for me to open the door.
“Well, are you going to open the door or not?”
Cautiously, I approach the door, noticing that the man’s wearing a biker cut that says Elm Street Riders MC along the back of it.
A strange shudder erupts from my toes, working its way up my body until I feel tingly all over. I shake it off as nerves, but the second I open the door for him, they multiply, especially when I catch him staring at me with strange fascination.
“Where do you want it?”
“U—Um back counter?” I stutter nervously.
He nods once, then marches into the room and places the box on the back counter. I follow him like a dim-witted moth, wanting to see the rest of his face that he’s hiding behind boxes and masks.
But the second he places the box on the counter, he turns, our eyes meeting for two point six seconds before he quickly pushes past me and rushes towards the door.
“Hey, wait! I want to say thank you.”
He doesn’t turn around, just hovers by the door and says, “No thanks needed.”
Then he’s gone, the door opening and closing behind him with a slam that knocks the wind out of me.
It’s so dismantling that I find the closest chair and drop onto it, throwing my head back in complete awe.
“Whoever he was, he sure was cranky,” I whisper shout to a spider crawling across the wall.
I swear the spider looks at me with hungry eyes—and I suddenly feel like food, not friend.
“First things first… fumigation. I can’t have you creepy crawlies crawling all over my buttered biscuits, now can I?”
The spider, who I’ve now dubbed Mr. Giggles, keeps crawling onward, but his presence has left a mark. It’s just not as life-altering as the masked box-carrying biker with eyes so blue, he’ll be living in my wild fantasy daydreams for weeks.
Welcome to Fernley, Mindy, where you’re surrounded by spiders, mysterious landlords, and bikers that scream grumpy sunshine.