Chapter Two

SCARLETT

H alloween has always been my favorite holiday. I love the brightly colored leaves that stick to the pavement and the crispness of a cool fall day. I love the excitement that permeates the air as children prepare to eat their body weight in sugar. I love the carved pumpkins glowing on porches and silkened cobwebs hanging across the front windows. I love the frights and fun, the tricks and the treats.

But my favorite thing about Halloween is that it's a day to be someone else. To be someone new. To dawn a mask and live a life different from my own. To wear the skin of a stranger, even if only for a night. On Halloween, I can be anyone I want. I can escape being me .

Don't get me wrong, my life isn't that bad. I have a job I like, a good looking boyfriend, an adequate little apartment, and a cute as fuck cat. Life is generally pretty good. But on Halloween, I can be someone great. I can be bold, sexy, confident. I can be someone who I'm definitely not in real life.

I scan the rows of costumes in the giant warehouse Halloween store, hoping something calls to me. I'm not one of those girls who's smart enough to have a funny couple's costume planned out months in advance. I kind of just grab whatever calls to me. Currently, I'm drawn to a slutty Little Red Riding Hood costume. Its thick red cloak and short, little black corset dress would look vibrant against my pale skin and onyx hair. I'm not sure I have the curves to pull something like this off, though. I'm flat as a board and costumes like these are for beautiful girls with full curves. It'll probably make me look stupid and immature, like a little girl dressing up in mom's clothes. I can already hear Kyle's less-than-enthusiastic reaction to seeing me in something like this. Heat burns my cheeks at the thought. I shove it back into the rack with a sigh.

"Babe!" Kyle screams at me from across the store sounding excited. "Look at this one!"

Kyle and I have been together for about six years now. I moved to this town after high school and quickly found a job, hoping to save up enough to one day go to the local college. I grew up in some middle-of-nowhere town with parents who were born there and will die there. I did whatever I could to get out. As soon as I graduated high school I ran to freedom, I ran to the sea.

I ended up in this small Washington town, living in a small apartment, and working at a quaint little coffee shop. It wasn't the bold and glamorous life I dreamed of having when I left home, but at least I was free. One day, Kyle came into the coffee shop. He was older, a college boy, with the kind of looks that would bring most girls to their knees. I couldn't fathom what a boy like him would see in a girl like me. He was so charming. I fell for him instantly. He may not always be the best boyfriend, but we've started to build a life together. He's comfortable, stable, and usually pretty nice.

Six years later and I'm still working at the coffee shop; hoping that one day soon Kyle will decide I'm finally ready to start college. I've been studying on nights when he goes out, looking through college prep books, to try to prove to him it won't be a waste of our savings for me to finally attend classes.

Rounding several rows of colorful costumes, I spot Kyle holding up one in front of him with a huge grin struck across his handsome facade. He styled his blonde hair back out of his face today, allowing his beautiful eyes to shine. It was originally his eyes that drew me to him. They're almost gray, like the color of afternoon storm clouds. They remind me of the small Midwest town I grew up in, comforting me with a sense of home that I haven't been able to shake in all the years we've been together.

"What is it?" I ask him, assessing the long, white, two-piece outfit adorned with feathers.

His gaze shifts to me and I swear I see a flicker of annoyance cross his face. It's always this way in our dynamic—I'm the stupid, small-town girl who works at a coffee shop while he's the well-off college graduate. I'm meek and he's strong. I'm boring and he's fun. He says I'm enough for him, but I sometimes get the feeling that I'll never be quite good enough for him. Maybe once I have a college degree and a fancy job he will respect me more and will finally propose. We could be happy…I think.

"A pimp, obviously," his tone is bitter as he assesses me. His eyes flick back to the costume in his hand and a satisfied smirk pulls across his face. "It even comes with a big ass pimp cup! Think the downtown bars will be willing to put my drinks in this sick-ass chalice all night?" He holds up the clear plastic bag containing a golden cup and strings of golden chains. "It doesn't really go with the Heaven and Hell theme that The Jager is doing but I'm not sure I'm sold on the silent rave idea anyway."

"You really want to go to the downtown bars again? I thought maybe we could just relax this Halloween. You know, stay home, pass out candy, watch scary movies?" I hate going out to the bars with Kyle. He's always rowdy and flirtatious when he drinks. I know he always goes home with me, but that doesn't make it sting less when I have to watch him flirt and dance with other girls. He usually picks blonde, curvy, seductive women. The complete opposite of me. When we make it home and he closes his eyes to fuck me, I'm always worried he's picturing someone else.

"Then what the fuck are we costume shopping for?" He scowls. "Why the fuck would I waste money on a costume to just sit at home? I know you think we have all this money to just fucking waste on stupid shit but I actually have a real job, that I work hard at, to earn our money."

"You're right." I try to make myself as small as possible as his looming presence stalks towards me. I hate fighting with him. "I'm sorry."

"Fuck babe, sometimes you don't think at all, do you?" His large hand wraps tightly against my face, roughly tilting my head up so my eyes meet his. His fingers dig into my cheeks and tears well in my eyes at the pain. "Now go find a ‘ho costume to match mine and we can get out of here. I'm meeting up with Will in like an hour." He releases me, the flesh he grabbed onto pulsing in pain. I'll definitely have bruises I'll need to cover tomorrow.

"You're going out tonight?" My voice comes out smaller—weaker—than I mean it to. "I was going to make dinner."

"You know I need guy time! I hate it when you're all clingy and shit. Go find a fucking costume and let's go." He dismisses me with a wave of his hand and I quickly shuffle away from him, desperate to get out of his orbit while he's in one of his moods.

I scan up and down the rows in the women's section for anything that looks like a whore costume. The idea tastes bitter on my tongue. I don't want to dress as a hooker. I want to dress in something that makes me feel bold, strong, fierce. But, I guess that's out of the question. I get to be Kyle's whore for the night, following him around from bar to bar as he flirts with other women. I can see now how our night will end—him shoving me face-first down into the mattress and closing his eyes while he fucks me from behind and imagines someone else. Fucking wonderful .

I round another row of costumes and see a woman scanning the shelves. She's beautiful. She is slightly taller than me, which probably puts her at around five-six or so, with long blonde hair styled in beautiful waves. Her body is curvy in all the right places. Her perfectly manicured, long red nails slide down the same red cloak I admired earlier. I can't seem to pull my eyes from her hand as it seductively strokes across the scarlet fabric. My tongue darts out to lick my bottom lip as I fixate on the path of her fingers, wondering what they'd feel like skimming across the sensitive flesh of my thighs. My pussy throbs at the thought.

What the heck is that? I'm not into girls. At least, I've never been before.

Sure, I can appreciate an attractive girl. Like, I can notice when another woman is more attractive than me but I've never wanted to be with another girl. But there's something about this woman that's pulling me in. Like there's a shimmering, invisible thread hooked into my core, pulling and twisting me towards the goddess in front of me. My eyes move upwards, slowly savoring her wide hips and plump breasts, the pale skin of her neck, and her beautifully full lips, before meeting her eyes. They're pale blue like the ocean, and full of alluring mischief. She caught me staring and yet, I don't care.

Pulling the costume from the rack, she approaches me silently. Her hips sway seductively as she walks and I can't help the pulse that thrums between my legs. I feel my panties dampen as she gets closer to me. Holy Hell . I've never felt like this before around another person.

When she's right in front of me, she stops. With her this close to me I can smell her. She smells like jasmine and vanilla. The sudden urge to lick up her throat and taste her strikes me.

What the hell? I can't go around licking strange women in Halloween stores!

"This would look beautiful on you." she says as she takes the cloak from the hanger and flings it behind me to rest on my shoulders. As she settles the cloak on me, her fingers lightly brush against my breast. Without knowing what I'm doing, my back bows out, arching for more of her touch against my sensitive skin. Suddenly, I'm desperate for her hands to be on me.

"No," I manage to choke out. "I'm not sexy enough for a costume like this." The words leave my mouth before I can stop them.

Her eyes flash with a moment of malice before her hands land on my hips, pulling me tightly against her. Her body is soft and warm and comforting. Every place her fingers touch me seem to hum with desire, as if she possesses the power to set each of my nerves on fire. She leans into me, gently brushing her lips against the shell of my ear. When she whispers to me, her warm breath sends shivers down my spine.

"I think you'd look radiant. In fact, I'd love to see you wearing this cloak and nothing else while I feast on your sweet little cunt."

Her words are filthy. I've never had anyone, female or male, talk to me that way. And I've certainly never had anyone feast on my private areas before. I should be horrified by what's happening but I can't deny the way my body responds to her with extraordinary need. My panties aren't damp, they're drenched.

"Tell me your name, princess. I need to know what name to call out later when I'm coming all over that beautiful face." Her voice is smooth like honey and I desperately want to hear her say more dirty things to me.

"Babe!" Kyle's voice carries across the store, breaking me from my trance before I can answer her. I pull away from the woman in front of me, disentangling myself from her. "I found it! This ‘ho costume will be perfect!"

I swivel my head towards where he's calling from. "Alright! I'll be right there!"

When I turn back around, my mystery girl is gone.