by CM Wondrak
Kayla was distant every day for the next week. She was not happy that I’d stood up for myself, hardly talking to me at all. Our rides to school were silent and heavy, and she didn’t even play the radio. I thought about apologizing, but then I stopped myself.
I didn’t have anything to apologize for.
The Monday after the party, Kyle had come to me asking why I’d left his party without telling him. He actually acted kind of hurt, which was just ridiculous. I did my best not to laugh in his face when he told me he stood outside, waiting for over forty minutes for me to come back, before he’d asked around and heard that I’d left with my friend.
Aubree was downright depressed for a while, saying she missed her chance. I could not roll my eyes enough at that, because really, what chance did she have? What chance was there in reality that last Friday night could’ve changed her life? That her long-time crush, Kyle Sturgis, would’ve suddenly noticed her and fell head over heels in love with her like she so desperately wanted?
All that aside, I didn’t hear anything from the stranger, though I checked my phone more often than ever. I wanted to hear his voice again, to tell him that I hadn’t dressed up for anyone on Friday, that I just went to that party because of my friend, because she didn’t want to go alone.
Would he believe me? I didn’t know.
It was Thursday afternoon when I had to excuse myself from language arts. Mrs. Johnson hated giving out hall passes to the restroom, but since I didn’t normally ask, she allowed it. Needing to get out of language arts was due to two reasons. One: Kyle, obviously. He kept looking at me, kept trying to talk to me, kept texting me, even when we weren’t working on our project together. Needless to say, I didn’t like that.
And two: I couldn’t focus. I couldn’t get my mind off that man and his voice and how it affected me so much. Something had to be wrong with me for me to obsess over something like this. If anything, I should tell Kayla about it. I should tell someone and not keep it to myself, right?
I mean, the man knew my name. He obviously knew who I was, where I was… how else could he have known about me dressing up on Friday? That was certainly some degree of stalking, wasn’t it?
But… why me? Why stalk me? There was nothing special about me, nothing at all. When I said I wasn’t like other girls, I didn’t mean it because I thought I was special. I was boring. I was the most meh girl you’d ever meet in your life, so easy to overlook in a crowded setting, the invisible one.
Only… when I listened to that man’s voice, I didn’t feel invisible. I felt seen.
My feet felt heavy and clumsy as I made my way through the empty hall to the nearest restroom. The one in the language arts hall was a single, unisex room, and I barged in once I tested the handle to see if it was locked, if it was already occupied. I walked into the pitch-black room, the lights off.
I froze once I was inside, the door swinging shut of its own accord behind me, the darkness enveloping me before I knew it.
The darkness. The darkness was home to me, a friend, a lover, something that was always there. But this time, it was different. This time, something happened.
My breathing grew short and erratic. I was unable to catch my breath as my mind was practically thrown out of my body.
His voice came to me right then, echoing in the darkest recesses of my mind, a crevice I did not know existed until now: “You’re in the dark because I want you to be.” A primal tone, something that elicited both fear and longing inside me.
Something caught in the back of my throat, and in my head, I heard myself ask, “But why?”
His answer came swiftly, easily, as if I should’ve already known it: “So only I can look at you.”
I came back into myself when my back hit the door, and as I struggled with getting my breathing under control, I fumbled for the light switch, flicking it on. Light instantly overpowered the darkness in the room, and my eyes took a moment to adjust to the lone toilet seat and sink in the small space.
I felt… odd. Like I was both here and not here. Like my body was here, but my mind was somewhere else. I didn’t know what that was, if it was a memory or something else buried inside my head, but as I got my breathing calmed, I knew one thing was certain.
That man wasn’t lying. I’d met him before, somewhere. Years ago, when I was younger. There was no possible way I could remember him saying something like that so perfectly.
My eyes lifted to the light above my head. The lights in the school were energy-efficient, not the round lightbulbs you saw in houses or ceiling fans. Still, staring up at it, I recalled the flashes of what must’ve been a memory, something that had come to me before, when I’d received his first call.
Nothing but a single lightbulb. No windows. No anything. Stale air that didn’t taste right, but I couldn’t remember much more.
I lurched to the sink, my hands catching myself just barely. My hall pass sat on the floor; it was nothing but a slip of paper. I must’ve dropped it when I’d first entered the dark room. My eyes were slow to lift, and I met my reflection in the mirror. Lips parted, sweat lining my hair… I didn’t look much like myself, even if I wasn’t as dressed up as I’d been last Friday.
If that was a memory… it definitely took a lot out of me. And, of course, that begged me to ask myself: if it was a memory, if I’d met that man years ago, why couldn’t I remember him now? Why was he both like a stranger and so familiar to me? It didn’t make sense. None of this made sense, and I feared it never would.
He had to call me again. He had to. That man was the key to all of this, and I so desperately needed answers here. I needed to know what the truth was, what I couldn’t remember and why. I needed to know all of it, and I knew I wouldn’t be satisfied until I did.
Until I knew who that man was, who he was to me and why he made me react like this. He was a stranger, an intimidating stranger even though I didn’t know his face, and yet I knew him.
Not enough, though.
I had the feeling it would never be enough.
Kayla and I sat on the couch, eating dinner. Tonight she brought home McDonald’s, a staple in this household. She ate a fish sandwich while I had nuggets. Say what you would about their food, but they had the best fries.
I knew it wasn’t smart to say anything, and I definitely didn’t plan on bringing the stranger who kept calling me up, but I couldn’t sit back and take it anymore. Maybe I could dance around the subject and somehow pull the truth out of her? I didn’t know. Better to try and fail than not try at all.
“Why didn’t you ever let me go to any dances?” I asked, causing Kayla to nearly choke on what was in her mouth. She turned to look at me, her eyes wide. She still wore her smocks—today’s set was covered in cats. “Not just dances, but anything. You never let me do anything, even after getting my license.”
“What… why? Where is this coming from?” Kayla shifted her weight, sitting further away from me on the couch as she studied me. “This is because you hung out with that girl last weekend, isn’t it?”
She didn’t know we’d gone to a party, and I kept my lips firmly sealed on that. “Does it matter? You keep me in this house like… like I’m a prisoner or something.”
My choice of words must’ve startled her, for I’d never seen her eyes so wide before. “Tenley, everything I do, everything I have done, it’s all to keep you safe. It’s what your parents would’ve wanted—”
Oh, bringing them up? Come on. What a cop-out.
I frowned. “If my parents were still alive, I bet they would let me hang out with my friends whenever I want and not have to beg or get into fights about it.” Okay, so what if I didn’t have friends? That was beside the point.
“Maybe, if…” Kayla stopped herself from saying anything else, shaking her head once. Her dark blonde hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, but a few wisps had gotten free throughout the day. “Never mind.”
“Maybe if what?” I couldn’t let it go. I just couldn’t.
>
My aunt heaved the most explosive sigh she could before whispering, “Maybe if things were different, but they’re not. You’re my responsibility. You’ve been my responsibility for ten years now, and I like to think I did an okay job.” She looked at me, her expression falling somewhat, as if she suddenly knew what this was about. “You don’t hate me for how I raised you, do you?”
I didn’t answer. Even though I didn’t hate her, sometimes I did feel an extreme amount of annoyance with her. Like, what did it matter? Why couldn’t she just let me make my own decisions? She’d gotten me to eighteen, which was all she had to do, legally. I could walk out that door and never come back, and the state couldn’t come after her.
Not that I would have anywhere to go, but I could, theoretically.
“Sometimes it’s just not possible to be like everyone else,” Kayla went on, matching my frown with her own. “Life was stacked against you from the beginning, and we all did everything we could for you. I hope you know that.”
The way she spoke… it was like there was some big secret she wasn’t telling me, something she didn’t want to talk about but referenced with everything she said. Life was stacked against me from the very beginning? What the hell did that mean?
“Was something wrong with me?” I asked, a knot in my stomach. “Is that why I don’t remember anything before you? I don’t… I don’t remember Mom and Dad, not really—but I should. They’re my parents. I should remember them.” I sounded freaked out and worried… and that’s because I was.
Was it all because of me?
Kayla leaned forward, setting down the rest of her sandwich on the coffee table before reaching for me, saying, “Nothing’s wrong with you. Nothing.”
I didn’t let her comfort me, though. I couldn’t. “Then why do I feel like this?” My voice shook with emotion, emotion I didn’t normally express. “Why do I feel so empty?” Why did that man’s voice make me feel so full?
She didn’t say anything, she just stared at me, slack-jawed, as if I’d punched her in the lady bits.
I couldn’t sit there and let her continue staring at me like I’d grown a third eye when I wasn’t looking, so I got up and headed upstairs. At least I’d eaten half of my meal; it was more than I usually ate. My feet took the stairs two at a time—a feat for me, since my legs weren’t exactly long. I didn’t hit the jackpot when it came to height; even though I was eighteen years old, I was just over five feet tall. Practically a midget.
Yet another reason why it was so easy to overlook me, especially when I was in a crowd.
Once I was in my room with the door firmly closed, I moved to my bed, heaving out a sigh. That whole exchange hadn’t gone how I’d wanted it to, although, now that I was thinking about it, I didn’t know what I should’ve expected.
Kayla and I had never seen eye to eye on most things. Take my parents, for example. She was adamant it was an accident, but you didn’t point a gun at someone else, pull the trigger, and then turn that same gun onto yourself without meaning to. Something like that couldn’t be an accident, and the older I got, the more ridiculous I thought it all was.
Not the murder-suicide, but my aunt. Kayla. My legal guardian.
I should respect her. I should love her. I knew for a fact I didn’t respect her… but what about the latter? If something happened to her, would I be sad? Maybe it was wrong of me, but I couldn’t say.
I lay back on my bed, pulling out my phone, staring at the screen. If I could will that man to call me, if I could somehow cause this phone to ring from a call from a restricted number, I knew it would make this night so much less miserable. To hear his voice again, to talk to him… God, there were so many things I wanted to know.
Who was he? How did he know me? Why did I want to be his good girl?
Turning my head toward the lone window in my room, I stared at the dying daylight outside. Was the man out there, waiting, watching? He knew I’d gone to that party last Friday, knew I’d dressed up, so he’d seen me, somewhere, somehow. Knowing he’d been close and I’d been blind to it filled me with a sense of longing I couldn’t place.
What was wrong with me? I shouldn’t feel like this. I should tell Kayla about the call, about the man and everything he’d said… and yet, going downstairs and telling her the truth was the last thing I wanted to do. And I wouldn’t. I refused to tell her anything. This man, whoever he was, would be my little secret.
I didn’t know how long I’d have to wait to hear from him again, but I would wait with bated breath, my heart skipping a beat whenever I thought about him. I would wait because there was nothing else I could do.
Turned out, I didn’t have to wait long. He called me again Saturday night, at midnight. I’d been lying awake, unable to sleep—as I had often during the last week, my mind refusing to shut itself off—when my phone buzzed. I used to charge it on my desk, but I’d since moved the charger to the electrical outlet near my bed, so I could hold my phone close during all hours of the night.
I did not dare to miss a call from my mystery man.
When my phone buzzed with a call, I hurried to lift it, blinking at the illuminated screen in the darkness. My body was instantly alert, my mind racing as I saw it was him. Restricted. Why call me so much without letting me know who he was? What was his endgame? Did he want to scare me?
Or did he just want me to remember him? He’d said as much, that I hurt him by not remembering who he was, which meant we’d met before, years ago. Not during my time with Kayla, that’s for sure, but before, when I still lived with my parents. Before dear daddy took a gun to mommy and ended the life I used to know.
But this wasn’t about that. This was about him. About the man who made my mind and my body go wild with just his voice.
I could not answer the phone quickly enough, saying nothing as I held the phone against my ear, hearing his breathing. It was wrong—so, so, so wrong—but his breathing alone nearly pushed me off the edge. Warmth flooded me as I imagined that breathing coming from its source, the faceless man in my room, staring at me through the darkness of the night.
How could someone affect me like this?
And why did I like it so much?
Chapter Seven – Enzo
I sat in my dingy apartment, the lights off. A small studio, all I could get, given my past. Given the fact I didn’t have much money. Money was not something I had a lot of, but the owner of the property let me stay here as long as I helped him out whenever he needed me. Whether that was unclogging a toilet in another unit or keeping watch over the drug deals that took place in the parking lot, I did what I had to. I’d been told I was a very intimidating man, and now I had the stone-cold stare of someone who’d seen hell and come back from it, still alive and kicking.
Life had tried to gut me, and yet here I was.
I didn’t know how long I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at my phone. An old one, a cheap one. A burner no one could track. Every time I called her, I called her restricted. The glutton inside of me enjoyed the chase, the fact that she didn’t remember me, and I knew I’d take great pleasure in reminding her who I was, once the time came.
And it would. The time would come for me to show myself to her, to see her again in person, with nothing but a few feet between us. No more long distances; she’d be within arm’s reach, and once I got her, I’d be damned if I ever let her go again. Come hell or high water, come whatever fucking may, Tenley Goddard would be mine.
It felt like an eternity I’d waited. Eighteen years, the last ten spent in prison, itching to get out and return to her. I’d been friends with Bruce since college. We were in the same fraternity, though we only spent one year together on campus, since he was a senior and I was a freshman. It was long enough for us to cement a friendship, and it was one that paid off years later when he helped me get a job.
By then, Bruce Goddard had married his high school sweetheart, Elaine, and it wasn’t long at all before they had a daughter.
All those
years, even during college, I paid close attention to Elaine. I’d been drawn to her almost unwillingly, and I inserted myself into Bruce’s life just so I could be near her. But I found out a few years later that she wasn’t the one I wanted.
I took part in their wedding. I was there when Tenley was born. I was there when she was baptized and went to all of her birthday parties. Seeing her grow up, watching her learn and blossom… they were some of the best years of my life.
And then things changed. Then I couldn’t wait any longer. I’d made mistakes, yes, and if I looked back and had the chance to do things over again, I would be more careful in what I did. Still, considering everything, I still got away with quite a lot.
A whole fucking lot.
Tenley lived with Kayla now, and from what I’d seen, Kayla kept her on a tight leash. I didn’t like that. Not at all. The only leash Tenley should be on was mine. My collar should be around her neck, for I was the only one who could control her. Not fucking Kayla.
Being in this small apartment, I felt alone. So alone, it was unreal. If Tenley was here… I’d make good time of the night. My loneliness would be gone, and I would drown myself in her wide eyes, listening to her voice and the sounds her body could make. She was old enough now, old enough that I could have her and not be thrown back into jail.
The restraining order still threatened to do that, but if I had my way, if I got my hands on Tenley, I’d make sure she didn’t go running to Kayla about me. I would make that girl cry out my name, all the while eager and willing, wanting anything I offered her. She would be mine, finally, after all these years, and she would grow to be addicted to me just as I was to her.
Warmth flooded my lower half as I sat there in the dark, my cock starting to harden in my pants, just thinking about it. Thinking of her. When I’d seen her all dressed up for that party, wearing those fishnets and that tight dress… I’d wanted to rush over to her, pull her away from her friend, throw her over my shoulder and bring her back here.