Page 100 of Haunt the Mall
“Find me somewhere creepy.” I locked eyes with Victor, then answered the phone. “Hello, Sam. Do you like scary movies?”
Victor furrowed his brow, his lip turning up at my brazen throwback to our first conversation.
Sam’s voice trembled through my speaker. “Um, not really.”
I smirked. That meant he didn’t know his way out of one, unlike me.
Victor led me down a stairwell, sparing dark looks over his shoulder. Each step groaned with anticipation.
I cradled the phone against my cheek and turned up the volume so my spider man could hear. “You prefer to get your thrills by stalking girls with pretty smiles?” I asked.
Sam squirmed enough to make his seat squeak. “I wasn’t—I thought you told Victor I wasn’t doing that.”
“That was before I saw the security footage, and before you showed up at my house, and before you started calling me.” I ducked into a dark abyss. Twisted creature silhouettes waited on the far side of the wall. “I think you were hoping to catch a show of me and Victor enjoying each other’s company in theater thirteen.”
Sam made a small noise in the back of his throat. “I…I don’t…no.” He huffed. “I called to check on you. Besides, looking isn’t a crime.”
My tone flattened with dark humor. “Depends how you do it. We all burn for something.”
Victor pulled a chained string. It clicked. A bare bulb illuminated the grooves of his shoulders and the spare parts crowding the basement: robot arms and machine husks. Widow prototype red eyes gleamed in greeting. Tools hanging on the wall doubled as torture devices. This was the perfect backdrop for the scene ahead. I gave Victor a thumbs up and kissed his cheek.
“You don't have any reason to be upset with me.” Sam huffed. “I mean, Victor kind of did the same thing.”
I rolled my eyes and dragged my hand down Victor’s chest. “I talked to Victor. He let me know he was there. I gave him my address and phone number, and we made plans to see each other. How did you get my information?”
“The VIP database,” he mumbled.
“Not the same, then,” I said.
Victor squeezed my hand. His phone buzzed, and I gestured for him to get it.
“I-I still don’t think it’s that bad. I mean, I could press charges against him for throwing me around like that,” Sam said.
“Oh, you can?” I chuckled. The balls on this kid.
He softened his voice as if he was super thoughtful instead of a creep. “But I wouldn’t sue him if you didn’t want me to.”
“That’s one of many things you shouldn’t do,” I warned, sitting on the workbench.
“Is there any way we could meet?” he blustered. “You know, I think you could convince me. Although I still don’t think you should be with someone like that.”
I crossed my legs. So, we could add blackmail to the list of reasons we should slap him upside the head.
“Let’s play a game.” I said, channeling a serial killer with a moral code. “This or That. If you answer three questions, we can video chat.”
“Um, okay. It’s a start, I guess," he said.
This guy hadn’t seen enough horror movies.
Victor narrowed his eyes on me, a silent question: Was I sure about this?
I nodded. Between the two of us, we had it. “First question: Freddy or Jason?”
“Uh, I don’t know them,” Sam said.
I gave Victor a long-suffering look. This kid didn’t know the classic flicks? There’d been dozens of Friday the Thirteenth and Halloween movies.
Victor gave my knee a sympathetic squeeze and sat beside me so I could see his screen—a conversation with Zero, including some stuff she found on Sam: grades, family tree, and addresses.