Page 6 of The Handyman

“I’m sure it’ll be fine if you take another day or two, Reece.”

“. . . I don’t want to be home alone.” Frankly, I didn’t want to be at work, either, but I’d take it over being stuck in my own head, for sure. Twirling my chair around to my workstation, I inhaled sharply as I reached under my desk to turn on my computer. “I need to finish this shitty report anyway. I want off this fucking case already. I want to forget I ever met that asshole. I mean…he should’ve just let that chick come by herself and at least give the illusion of progress.”

I should’ve drunk more last night.The thought whizzed through my head as my mind started to organize itself. There wassomuch to do, and I was pretty close to being done.But the closer I get to being done, the less I want to finish.

My mom was dead.

Riley got beat up, and out of everyone, she called me.

I wasat leasteighty-percent sure Sarah was the one that watered down the vodka I’d drunk last night. It’d been months since I touched that bottle— months since the last time I had her in my apartment. Months since she fucking bored to me to death trying to play coy. So long that I couldn’t remember what her face looked like, or the exact shade of brown of her hair.

Sarah wasn’t that interesting to begin with, but she was willing, and I wasn’t exactly taking the moral high ground.

Ugh. . . why can’t I just stop thinking about all this random ass shit. . .Lowering my head to take a few, deep breaths, I held my last in my lungs for a few seconds. Not that it did anything to help my frenetic thoughts slow down.

5

Riley

Stomping my feet free of snow, I swept back my hood and glanced over my shoulder. The snow falling wasn’t very thick, but itwaswet enough to seep through my coat. Heading to my mailbox, I pulled my keys out of my pocket and set my bag on the floor by my feet. In a city of 8 million people, I was pretty happy with myself for being able to get back within two hours of leaving.

Granted, all I did was take one bus to the electronics depot for a single item.Semantics.

“I’ve been putting off new headphones for too long. I’m not going to get anything done today because I went out,” mumbling to myself as I opened my mail locker, I grabbed the few envelops inside to lock up to haul myself and my stuff up the stairs. Frowning as I leisurely made my way to the third floor, my lips thinned in self-directed frustration. Already, I wasn’t making the progress I was hoping for a new client and now, I’d gone and wasted all these hours. “I have to finish the interview transcripts, too. Those always suck.”

Maybe, I should consider getting a part time job.I liked writing and I was good at it, but this lull between November and February always hit me hard. Most of the year, I did more than well enough to save up. My spending habits were good and my expenses were low.If I wasn’t good on a budget, I probably would’ve had to move back home three times by now. Or there’d be no point in moving away in the first place.

“Except I hate Redding and Redding hates me.” Memories of the home I grew up in blossomed in my mind’s eye, as a frown stained my expression. I reached the third-floor platform, pausing to shuffle my mail under my arm. I drove my ass all the way to Connecticut on the stupid, desperate hope that my mom and dad might be upset that Brandon had hit me. Domination wasn’t my kink byanystretch of the imagination, but he’d played up his openness to trying other things.

Really, all Brandon wanted was to beat on someone and get away with it. His idea of ‘freaky’ was vague and unsettling; he couldn’t articulate what he wanted, and it didn’t take me long to find out that his idea of BDSM was simply rough sex. That inability to communicate should’ve been red flag number one.

I was dumb and ignored it because we were both new to the scene. Brandon had only been to Black Cat once or twice before, and I’d been a member for a few months. Paying the $150-dollar yearly fee was worth it in just the first few times I’d been there. I met some really cool girls that stuck by me and gave me tips, and it was something to look forward to on Friday nights.

Juggling my keys as I came up on my apartment door, I gulped down the tightness in my throat. The phantom touch that whispered on my skin warmed my cheeks, and goosebumps swarmed across my chest under my thick clothes.

Reece. . . now,hewas a real man who knew exactly what he wanted.He was simultaneously the sexiest and most intimidating person I’d ever seen.The sex we had wasdeliriouslyamazing. He wassucha gentleman and kind, considerate, and—

That’s exactly why I was afraid of drawing up a contract with Reece. He was the kind of guy I wouldn’t be able to keep at Black Cat, and in the end…I couldn’t manage that feat, anyway. I’d called him, knowing I was breaking a rule— knowing he expected my dom to hurt me somehow when he gave me his number to begin with.

“Riley?”

Blinking hard, I glanced up.

Hannah came flouncing down the hallway in her smart, feminine suit. She lived in the apartment next to me. “You break your key or something?”

“Oh… no. I zoned out. You just getting back from work?” Adjusting my grip on my bag, I licked my lips heavily. “You wanna come in for a drink?”

“Sure. I’m just gonna change, but I’ll be over in, like, 10 minutes? I had a crap day. This idiot at work. . .” Trailing off to roll her eyes, Hannah breezed passed me with her tiny waist and long legs. “I’ll tell you about it over a glass of wine.”

I arched a brow quizzically “Okie dokie. Just knock.” I pushed my key into my doorknob to stumble through. My place flooded with natural light, bright and happy as I dumped my stuff on the couch to sigh heavily. The living room was still and I snatched the remote off the coffee table to turn on the TV. Almost instantly, the news made me tune out, and my mind wandered as I made my way into the kitchen.

Pulling my phone and wallet out of my jacket, I hung it off the chair and stretched my arms over my head. My phonepinged shrilly, and I flexed my toes in my sneakers.

‘Reece: Friday 5pm Black Cat’

Puffing out my lips thoughtfully, I bopped my head as butterflies fluttered in my abdomen. Before I could even begin to think of a reply, he started texting me again, and anticipation turned my blood to sludge.

‘We’ll grab dinner after. It’ll be a date. Bring extra clothes.’