The Mask Man In The Woods

13.

CHAPTER | THIRTEEN

Tristian and I sat on the couch in the living room, the heat from the freshly made tea warming my hands. Tristian didn't bother touching his and stared at the coffee table as if nothing was more interesting.

It had been two days since I yelled at him. He didn't bring up the topic, but I knew that was what he wanted to talk about.

It was hard to tell what was going through his mind. With the mask on, he hid his emotions. I could tell from his body language, but I was never sure if I was guessing right.

Whenever he faced in the direction of the big red chair, he shifted uncomfortably, hold his hands together, or stare at anything but me.

He knew something.

And I was dying to get some answers, yet I wasn't sure what the questions were.

What was I going to ask? What did I want to know?

I shifted in my seat, the words already forming in my head. Yes, I do suppose that's where we can start.

I cleared my throat and Tristian looked up as if he was already prepared. I turned my mug around in my hands, my knee bouncing up and down.

"W-When I was little, my mama and step-papa had a friend. Mr. Stevens used to visit me often." I began. Tristian listened, resting his elbows on his knees. "He and... my step-papa were close friends; I thought they were brothers. He used to, uh, give me money and I always spent it on candy, soda, whatever I craved for." I paused, swallowing the lump in my throat.

"My step-papa always told Mr. Stevens to stop spoiling me, but he never listened. When my step-papa passed away, Mr. Stevens stopped visiting and I never understood why. My mama hardly talked to me about anything. I tried visiting Mr. Stevens, but he was usually in the city since his wife tried to commit suicide. Belle was nice to me, too."

Tristian's shoulders stiffened and he raised his hands, covering his face as he turned to look away. He appeared to be... scared. I tilted my head and reached to touch his knee, but stopped. I pulled my hand away.

"I visited her in the hospital... She told me you are a hothead and that you haven't been the same since eleven years ago. If she knows all of that, you must visit her, right?" I asked.

I knew I was crossing a line of his privacy, but this had to mean something. What were the odds that I knew someone who also met the masked man in the woods? An urban legend told at campfires and sleepovers to scare each other?

This had to mean something.

Tristian sighed and lowered his hands. "She's a friend. I didn't know you were friends with her as well."

"H-How, um, did you meet Belle?" I asked, taking a sip of my tea.

Tristian slowly shrugged his shoulders and stared at his hands. "I was gathering wood and I felt like I needed to go closer to the edge of the woods. It was late, so I didn't think it mattered."

"That's where you saw her." I said, already knowing where it was going.

Tristian nodded. "I heard her screaming for help. I didn't think it through. I only sought to help her."

I looked down at my tea and my eyes widen. "That means you know how the bikers look like!"

"Excuse me?"

"The bikers! They were never caught." I said and stood up. "If you can give me a description of each of them, that'll put poor Belle at ease, no?"

Tristian let out a short chuckle. "I can't do that."