Page 19

Chapter nineteen

Ashia

The Next Day

Last night was strangely comforting. We talked all through Final Destination about how stupid some of the characters were and made fun of the ridiculous ways they died. Normally, talking through a movie would bother me, but he’s actually really funny. He pointed out the most ridiculous things and even explained how some of it would have never worked in real life. I didn’t ask how he knew that of course; I didn’t want to know the answer to that.

He picked on me a little. Wrote down a few of the death scenes on a piece of paper and asked if I wanted to draw today’s excuse or skip to the end and use the ‘piece of metal flying off of a railroad track’ bit.

Asshole.

If we weren’t both so tired, we may have even watched the second one, but by the end of the first his soothing voice had almost put me to sleep. I could hear the vibrations from his voice mix with the beating of his heart while I laid against him, and just before I fell asleep, he ran his fingers through my hair, and that did it for me.

It wasn’t until later on we had sex, and to be honest, I initiated it. I had woken up at some point last night really horny and felt his hard dick in my back. So, I may have pushed myself into him until he woke up and fucked me. Not may have, I did, and I’m not sorry. But at least this time he didn’t string me up like a rag doll. He was actually quite gentle. Well, as gentle as doggy style could be with a man like him. I wonder if he’ll come over early tonight too. Probably not, because any other day it’s the middle of the night before he wakes me up.

“Hey, bitch!” I tear my focus from my thoughts and my client, Ben, to see Serena walking in the front door of Cut Me Down. She’s in her navy-blue scrubs, and her hair is down and perfectly wavy like it always is. Her make up is flawlessly intact, and she looks like she just got ready five minutes ago, though I’m sure she’s been at work all day. I don’t know how she keeps herself up like that. I’m quite jealous of her ability to always look pristine.

“Hey! What are you doing here?” I ask her, raising my eyebrows slightly. We had agreed that until I knew she was safe coming around here, that she would stay away. It’s not that I don’t want to see her. I’ve been texting her almost non-stop, and I’ve missed her like crazy. I just couldn’t stand the thought of anything happening to her.

“I hit too many hours last week, so to even them out they sent me home today, and I came to get my best friend for shitty onion rings and alcohol. You got anyone after him?” She points to Ben.

“Nope, he’s it for the day and I’m almost done.”

“Perfect! I’ll wait up here. You can come in your work clothes. If I’m going in scrubs you can go in that.” She giggles as she sits and looks around. Leaning over to the side and looking towards the back room before glancing up towards the ceiling. “I don’t see tall, dark, and creepy here. Is he hiding upstairs?” She jolts, pretending to be afraid. “Is he in the attic?” She draws in a sharp gasp and places her hand over her heart. “Is the call coming from inside the house?” A mischievous smirk sprouts on her lips.

“You are so hateful sometimes.” We giggle together and she visibly relaxes. “You won’t find him here, Ser, he works late.” I widen my eyes at her and nudge towards my client to let her know to keep her mouth shut.

“Oh, that’s right. How unfortunate, I was hoping to scare him a little today.” My very fit, slim, blonde best friend scare my tall, menacing, muscled slice of man? Yeah, sure.

“I don’t think you could scare him.” I shake my head playfully.

“The fuck I can’t.” We giggle as I roll my eyes, and she finally lets me finish up with my client. As I ring him out, I look over to see Serena on her phone, and I think about texting Damien and telling him where I’m going. I shouldn’t really give a shit if he knows, but I have a feeling if he looks at the cameras, or comes over and I’m not here, that he’ll go ballistic.

I pull out my phone as Ben walks out.

Me :

Hey, not sure if you’d want to know or not, but Ser and I are heading to the seafood bar on 3 rd St. for a few drinks. Didn’t want you to worry, I won’t be out late.

I start cleaning everything up, but my nerves start to rattle. What if he gets mad that I’m going out? What if he shows up? Was it stupid of me to tell him exactly where we’re going? Probably, but I’ll be damned if I ever have to ask to see my best friend again. He may control my orgasms, but I’ll be damned if he controls my life. I’ll never fall into that again.

I almost yelp the moment my phone buzzes. Not only alerting me to Damien’s response, but to the fact that my confident declaration of independence is still overshadowed by my paranoia.

Damien:

I always know where you are little wolf, you don’t have to tell me. Take your time, have fun, I’ll see you tonight.

Serena and I walked to Hateful Harry’s, a seafood bar across the stretch of downtown. It’s only about a twenty-minute walk, and the weather was nice outside. On the way over, Ser was telling me about the crazy things she’s seen over the past week at the ER. Apparently, a guy had an accident with a chainsaw and shredded his leg, there was a lot of overdoses, and a kid got a pencil shoved in his eye and they had to remove it. I can’t imagine seeing half of that. I threw up from brain matter, I don’t want to see bones sticking out, and oh my God that poor kid’s eye. How does she look at that every day?

Walking up to the bar, I admire the outside under the surrounding, newer establishments’ neon lights. Hateful Harry’s is definitely an older business, and the outside looks a little worse for wear. The colors have faded, some of the window decals are peeling off, it doesn’t have some large flashing sign on the front, and the front door looks like it’s been caved in once or twice.

The inside doesn’t look much better. The paint is chipped and lost some of it’s color, the old nautical décor on the walls is crooked and has some dust and cobwebs attached, and the tables look like they could have been taken off of an actual ship. But, this is one of our favorite places to go. The waitresses are nice, most of their food is pretty good, and they have an excellent drink selection. My favorite is their key lime pie shooter, and Ser and I have a habit of downing a few every time we’re here.

We seat ourselves at a booth on the outside wall, away from the crowded space in the middle with all of the pool tables surrounding the stage. Sometimes they have live bands that still perform here, but we tend to avoid those nights as much as possible due to the large crowds.

“I’m so ready for these shitty onion rings.” She says with her perky tone and flops down into the booth lazily.

“They’re not even that bad Ser, and you love coming here.” I sit, a tad more gracefully than she does.

“I do love coming here, but the onion rings are disgusting. I’ve seen less grease on a mechanics hands.” She holds up her hands and wiggles her fingers to gesture.

“Then why do we order them?”

“Because the hot bartender told me to buy them whenever I want to fuck.” She winks at me and bites her lip. I wince.

“Oh God, is this your bathroom guy?”

“Absolutely, it is.” I roll my eyes.

“Can we go out somewhere once without you tracking down a nightly fuck?”

“Says the one who’s getting dicked down at least once a night.” I move my head side to side, unable to deny her statement.

“Fair enough.” She tilts her head to the side, and looks me up and down as she crosses her arms.

“How is stalker boy, by the way?”

“I told you, Ser, his name is Damien.” She rolls her eyes, her playful and frisky demeanor now vanished.

“Yeah, yeah. So?” I huff out in frustration.

“It’s fine, I guess.”

“He hasn’t hurt you right?” She narrows her eyes, as if she’s trying to judge if I would lie to her or not.

“No Ser, for the last time, he has not hurt me.” I shouldn’t get so aggravated with her questions. She’s the sane one right now, and her questions are justifiable. However, I just don't see Damien hurting me. He may stretch my muscles like Mr. Fantastic, but that’s totally different than him abusing me.

“Well, I have to make sure! I haven’t seen you in person in almost a week! It’s not every day your best friend is fucking a murderous vigilante.”

“Yeah, but that’s not all he is.” She tilts her head slightly more and widens her eyes at me.

“Oh, is someone starting to like him?”

“No!” She tilts her head to the other side and raises an eyebrow. “I don’t know, maybe.”

“Ashia!” She practically yells.

“What Serena?!” I lower my voice as I look around, hearing the loud volume of my own voice. “Yes, he’s a stalker. Yes, he’s a murderer. And yes, he’s a vigilante. I haven’t forgotten all of that. But he’s also nice, funny, and surprisingly sweet. Plus, he hasn’t forced me to do anything, which is a nice change of pace.” She straightens her head and leans into the table.

“Maybe he hasn’t forced you because you’re so compliant.” She bats her eyelashes, driving her attitude home.

“Says the one who’s getting ready to go fuck a bartender in the bathroom because you order the number two appetizer in the country. Do you even know his name?”

“Hey, don’t judge me.” She rears back, as if I've insulted her, and I immediately feel guilty.

“I’m not, Ser. You know I love you, and I know you love me. This is hard enough for me to wrap my brain around, okay? I know I should call the police, I know I should stay far away from my apartment, and I know that I should run as fast and far as I possibly can, but…” I feel the knot in my throat come back, and the words get stuck behind it.

“You don’t want to.” She softens the look in her eyes and on her face.

“I don’t know.” I run my hands over my face and grip the back of my neck. “I haven’t even known him for a week, and I barely know who he is, but he saved my life. Apart from the murdering and the stalking, he’s been very sweet to me.”

“Stalkers normally are at first.” The attitude returns to her face and it’s like she’s scolding me. I immediately feel myself cowering inside. Wishing I could duck down under the table and hide from her stare.

“I know. He’s so ahead of me, you know? He already knows so much about me, and I don’t know much about him.”

“Have you tried asking him?”

“Do you want me to get to know him or not, girl? Don’t give me whiplash.” She braces her hands on the table, her palms flat, but not straining.

“Listen. Either you want him out of your life, or you don’t. If you want to go right now and go to the cops, I’ll go with you. If you don’t, then I’ll keep checking up on you. But you need to figure out what you want to do. What does he want from you? Has he said?”

“He says he doesn’t believe in love, but when I asked him why he picked me, he talked about seeing me through the window at work and ‘just knowing’ that he had to have me. I don’t know if he wants a relationship, or if he just wants sex. He fucks like a God, but then he’s soft and gentle. I literally feel like I'm on a roller coaster with him.”

“Well, I’m not sure either, but from what you’ve told me, it doesn’t sound like he just wants sex. He can get that anywhere, and no offense, but if the chase was a thrill for him, he wouldn’t get much enjoyment out of you.” I dip down in my seat to the insult. She’s right. I haven’t really fought back. I know I shouldn’t like the mystery that he is, and I shouldn’t like the thrill and the arousal from him commanding me, but I do. Regardless, she has a point. “I’m sorry, Ash. That was shitty to say.” She sinks back as well.

“I mean, you’re right though. I haven’t tried to run from him. It just feels really nice to be wanted you know? I’ve never had anyone want me before. I've either been alone, or someone’s punching bag.” I take a deep breath, shoving the surfacing memories back down. “He does things to me that makes me question my sanity, but God it feels so good, and he treats me so well after. It’s like I’m the axis his world spins on. It’s the strangest thing. I’ve never had someone treat me good before. He asks me about my day, and he listens to me bitch. Even when I yell at him for being a creepy stalker, he just takes it, and says he gets it. It’s like he really cares about me, it doesn’t feel fake to me.”

I look down at the table, somewhat afraid of her reaction. I know how ridiculous I sound, but I'm being honest. If Damien had hurt me, I'd be feeling way differently about this insane circumstance, but he hasn’t. If anything, he goes out of his way to make sure I know I'm not in danger. I've never experienced that before, and I don't know how to handle it.

“Hey.” Serena says gently, trying to get my attention. “I’ve always treated you the same way.” I look back up to grab her hand on top of the table and squeeze it lightly.

“I know Ser, but you don’t have a penis, or want to fuck me. So it’s just a little different.”

“This is true. I don’t have a penis. However, if I did have one, I bet it would be huge.” I can’t help but huff out a chuckle.

“Oh, porn star large.” We laugh as I release her hand. “I do need to try and not be so compliant though. I've tried to add a little animosity to our interactions, but I always end up stalling out.”

“Hey, I say you keep trying. As long as it doesn’t piss him off. Wait, he’s not going to be mad that you’re out with me, is he?” Her face falls, and I know exactly what she’s thinking. Cooper hated Ser, and always tried to keep me away from her.

“No, he didn’t seem to be.” She squints her eyes at me in confusion. “I texted him, before we left, and told him where we were going. He said have fun, and that I’d see him tonight.” She grimaces.

“You compliant bitch.” We laugh. “That’s all he said?”

“Well, not all.” I show her the texts and she furrows her brows as she reads the message.

“I mean, creepy, but he doesn’t sound mad.”

“Exactly. I’m not even sure I could make him mad at this point. I was such a bitch last night. With Cooper, if I would’ve talked to him the way I did last night, I would’ve gotten a smack to the face. Damien? He massaged me, ate me out, and then asked if I was ‘done with my tantrum’.” I say as I count with my fingers, and her eyes widen again. Only sultrier this time.

“Oh shit, does he have any friends?” We laugh again, and it’s nice that she loosens up, no matter how slightly, to the thought of him.

“Just Carter that I know of, but if he has any single friends, I’ll let you know.”

The waitress comes over and takes our order. Of course, Ser ordered the damn onion rings anyway and our drinks. We started talking about some clients at work, her dad’s promotion, and she asked about lunch this week. I start giving her shit about the looks the bartender is giving her when I feel my phone buzz. So, I pull it out and look to see that Damien texted.

Damien:

You two look like you’re having fun.

I look around to see if he’s actually here watching. My heart is pounding so quickly now that I'm not sure if it’s out of fear or excitement. Which only scares me more.

“What is it?” She asks me and joins in my search around the room. I look up to a few booths in front of us, by the wall, to see a camera high up in the corner. It’s tilted in a direction that I wouldn’t expect, and of course, is pointed right at us. A sigh of relief slips through my lips as I lift my right hand up, stick my middle finger high, and flip it off. My mouth grinning as I do it. Ser furrows her brows at me, like I've lost my marbles. “What are you doing?”

“He can hack into security cameras. He is also apparently some kind of tech guru.” I whisper. “He can see us.” She starts looking around again and I look down to my phone. Seeing a new notification.

Damien:

Tell me to fuck you again, little wolf, and I’ll storm in there and ravage you in front of everyone.

I can’t stop the smirk that spreads on my face, so I immediately plaster my palm to my mouth to mask it.

Damien:

Is that smile an invitation?

Damn it.

“Let me see!” She yanks my phone from me, almost sending it flying through the restaurant. “Holy…yep. Definitely ask if he has friends. Now I’m really glad I ordered the onion rings.” We laugh and I pull whatever stubbornness I still have to put my phone down. Resuming my conversation with Ser. It’s not long before the waitress brings our food and drinks. As soon as she walks away, Ser gets up to ‘use’ the bathroom.

We’re walking back to the apartment, and while we had a really good time, something doesn’t feel right. The weather still feels great, Serena’s stumbling because she got so drunk, and the streets aren’t busy, but I have an eerie feeling. Goosebumps raise up and down my arms, and I keep getting a cold chill over my neck. The paranoia commanding me to look up and down the streets as we walk.

I haven’t felt this paranoid since walking into my apartment six nights ago. That same dark cloud overshadowing the apparently soothing weather. I’ve always had a good sense of danger, and it hasn’t steered me wrong before. Whether I listen to it or not is entirely another issue, but I can’t ignore it this time.

Someone is watching us, and I have a feeling it’s not Damien. He’s definitely not beyond stalking, but I've never had the feeling he was following me with malice. I’ve actually never had this negative, gnawing feeling when it concerns him. My brain is messing with me again. Allowing my paranoia to conjure up unlikely scenarios. At least, that’s what I hope. Convincing myself that I don’t hear shuffled steps behind us, because every time I turn to look, there’s no one there.

The possibility that Damien is following us is much higher than some random man. The thought that it could be him, lessens the taut feeling in my chest, and I can physically feel myself relax. Just to be sure, I pull out my phone to text him.

Me:

Are you following us?

I look around one more time, my attention automatically drawn to the shuffling sound again, and I swear I see someone rush into an alley down the street the moment I turn around, and that makes me halt. As if this mysterious man had reached out and held my shoulders still. I’m not hallucinating. The potential of this man actually posing a threat rattles my nerves, and the feeling tingles in my chest.

He was tall. Skinny, but tall. It looked as if he had a hood pulled up over his head, and the way he ducked was very quick, like he was trying to avoid being seen. I may not be used to Damien quite yet, but the figure I saw looked and moved nothing like him. This guy’s movements were sloppy and too slow to move like Damien does.

Trying to rationalize the situation, I think of all of the possible reasons that man could be walking behind us. It’s ridiculous to automatically assume that this stranger would want to hurt us, but is it? He could have been heading for that alley anyway. He could be walking to a different bar or restaurant, and it could have absolutely nothing to do with us.

That thought is quickly cast aside when I see his head ease its way back into view from the alley, only to quickly duck back in the moment he notices I’m looking.

“What are you looking at?” Ser turns and looks with me. Her movements are also slow and sloppy from how drunk she is.

“I think someone’s following us.” She gently nudges my shoulder, obviously not taking me seriously, and I look at her with a pleading gaze. She thinks I’m joking or being overly cautious.

“Lucky bitch. Hey! Stalker boy! She wants to get fucked!” She yells out teasingly, and I grab her arm. Frantically, I attempt to pull her away and keep walking.

“Ser, stop! I don’t think it’s Damien.” The vibration from my phone startles me, causing me to yelp and jump. I look down at my phone and see him calling me. I quickly answer. “Damien?” My voice trembles.

“I'm on my way.” I hear a door slam through the phone, and I wait to see if I notice the same noise near us, but it never comes.

“I was secretly hoping that was you…”

“It’s about to be. Stay on Third, don’t cut down Williamson Road. I'll have a better visual of you.” His commanding voice makes the trembles in my limbs turn to shivers. Is he mad at me? Is he upset that I went out and ended up in a bad situation? My eyes dart around, trying to find the street signs, and sure enough, that’s the corner we’re on.

“Okay.” I comply without question, not wanting to anger him any further.

“Keep walking, but don't do anything to let him think something is wrong. I'm almost there. You and Serena get into the apartment and fucking stay there.” I hear him hang up, and I grab Serena’s hand. Lacing my fingers through hers and holding on to her tightly.

“Keep walking Ser.” I grab her arm and practically drag her down the street. The lazy movements from her legs don’t help us get back any quicker, but perhaps that will look normal enough until Damien gets here.