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Rules of Engagement

Page 7

by Lily White


  She was a side sleeper. The kind you could wrap yourself around and hold in place all night.

  Slow and deep, her breathing was a whisper of sound through the room lulling me into a hypnotic spell. Fighting against it, I thought about what I’d seen earlier that day, how happy she’d looked to be spending time with another man.

  Mia didn’t know it yet, but she was mine. Her body, her heart, her soul and her life had become my possessions the instant she agreed to the game. Many had come before her, but somehow I knew Mia would be my last. There was something about her that called to me, something about the hesitant fear behind her eyes that made my blood rush faster.

  That’s why I was barely able to stand seeing her smiling at another man, to see her speaking with him so freely while in my vicinity. She should have known her shadow was present, she should have somehow been aware that her true predator lurked. But still, she smiled at him and talked, flirted and even allowed him to touch her.

  I couldn’t allow it, so I’d found a way to remind her that I was there, that despite the safety she felt, she was never truly safe.

  It wasn’t my intent to come to her apartment so soon into the game, but she’d left me with no choice. By now, she knew the rules, and she was playing with fire by refusing to follow them. I’d sent her a message today and she’d refused to answer it. The consequences of ignoring me is for me to force myself into her world that much faster.

  I’m not the type to be ignored. Mia will learn that eventually.

  But not tonight. No. Tonight would be mine alone, hours spent together that I refused to share with any person, including her. This was my time for introspection, a few hours spent with a woman who would become an obsession.

  I had plans for her. Plans that didn’t fall in line with her likes and dislikes, her opinions, fears or curiosities. That wasn’t how the game was played, especially now that I was the player. Money would still be sent to her account as if an audience were building on a site she couldn’t monitor, but in truth, there was no audience. I’d made sure of that. It was another way for me to keep her to myself - another method of ensnaring the timid mouse still begging for crumbs of food.

  A smile stretched my lips, the expression foreign because it was real. Very rarely did I allow a person to see what lingered beneath the facade I wore. Who knew what the world thought of me? And who cared? All that mattered is that the people around me never saw the beast that lingered beneath the silky, practiced veneer.

  Mia wouldn’t know. Not until it was too late.

  Standing in her room for longer than I’d intended, I didn’t move until the first glow of the rising sun brightened the beams of light sneaking around her shades. Sighing to have to leave, I stepped forward to carefully place a gift on the pillow beside her.

  With effort, I kept from touching her, from leaning so close I could breathe her in. I didn’t mind leaving her alone. I could now watch her when she didn’t know it.

  She stirred suddenly, a sleepy groan escaping her lips as she shifted position beneath the sheets.

  It was my cue to leave.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Rule No. 10: Enjoy your fantasy. The game starts NOW.

  It’s common in life for people to tell you to chase your dreams. What they mean by that, I’m sure, is intended as a encouraging phrase to help you along in your travels, a reminder that if you think something wonderful can happen, that fate will somehow come along and make it possible. Humans have been dreaming since the beginning of time, some believing dreams were messages from the Gods while others saw them as a means to understand their innermost thoughts. It’s a modern belief that dreams are the mind’s way of processing information, of recording it to memory while the body sleeps and restores its energy.

  I never knew who to believe when it came to the meaning of dreams. Personally, I didn’t believe they were the soul’s gate to other worlds or the realm of possibility, and I didn’t necessarily believe they were the mechanics of a mind processing information from the short term to the long term. I saw them more as scars on the psyche, a dark space where the pains we carry are brought to light, either so that we could finally come to terms with our fears and painful moments, or so that we could pretend to know that things would improve once that memory was vanquished for good.

  My dreams always had one face staring down at me behind narrowed eyes and a stern set of the mouth, a face that had judged me, critiqued me, criticized me and made me doubt that I could ever make my way through the world as a simple sheep among wolves. My dreams reminded me that I was a nobody in the grand scheme, a failed experiment that was only good for the entertainment of monsters.

  Blinking my eyes apart, my father’s image was branded in my thoughts, a particularly bad night having just replayed itself to me over and over again until it was implanted deep enough in my thoughts that I would drag it with me into the present. The emotions tied to that night were still fresh as my consciousness swam to life, as my body stretched over my mattress and sunlight peeked in through the window shades to tell me a new day had dawned.

  When it came to dreams, it was one extreme or the other - either vivid images of my life beneath my father’s roof playing until I wanted to scream, or nothing at all. Just black shadow and lack of thought, a night spent in oblivion, closing my eyes to find nothing, and opening them again to realize the night hours had passed without my knowledge. I preferred the dreamless nights, but unfortunately last night hadn’t been one of them.

  Not after the day I spent working for Donovan Stone. And not after discovering that the game I’d signed on to play was a huge mistake I had no means to quit.

  But nightmares or not, I had a certain place to be by eight sharp, and lying there in puddles of sweat from the nightmares that continued to plague me wouldn’t help keep my job. Rolling over, I reached to drag a pillow over my head, but was scratched by something sharp. Pushing up onto one elbow, I froze to see what had scratched me.

  A single white rose was nestled atop the mattress, a black ribbon tied around the stem, securing a piece of paper beneath the bud. A scream tore from my throat as my body launched backward, as my butt impacted with the floor and my eyes searched my room for any sign that I wasn’t alone. Nothing was out of place, including the sheet I used to cover the mirror whenever the sun went down. Stuck in place, I couldn’t will myself to reach for the rose, to read whatever words were scrawled over the note tied to its stem.

  Silence enveloped the room, filled with my hesitation and dread. It was obvious I was alone. The apartment was too small for anybody to find a decent hiding place, but still I couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched, the terror of knowing a stranger had been in my bedroom while I lay sleeping.

  My knees ached from holding my weight, my feet burning from how my toes were bent forward, but I knelt beside the bed for a few more minutes unable to find the courage to see what the note said.

  If it hadn’t been for my phone pinging with a reminder that I had fifteen minutes to be dressed and out the door for work, I probably would have remained in place all day, my mind scrambling to understand how it was possible that someone had been able to sneak in without me knowing. I tried to remember locking the doors, all four locks and the chain. I must have forgotten, must have been so panicked over the email from Dark Realities that I’d run to my room and jumped in bed without thinking.

  Pressing my forehead against the side of the mattress, I breathed out heavily, my body trembling and exhausted.

  I had to arrive on time for work. I didn’t have the luxury of kneeling there all day hating myself for the stupid choices I’d made. My hand flicked out, a thorn piercing my fingertip as I pulled the flower closer and untied the ribbon to read the note.

  You are not permitted to ignore me. Do it again and I’ll do more than just watch you sleep.

  Tears burst from my eyes as my hand opened, the single white piece of paper fluttering to the ground, the bold black lettering staring up at me a
s if it were laughing. Not knowing what the note meant, I smacked at the tears flowing down my cheeks just as my phone pinged again. Ten minutes and I needed to be in my car, yet I was sitting there, a sobbing mess, wearing nothing more than an old t-shirt that was ragged from years of wear.

  Lack of money had been the reason I signed up for the game to begin with, and if I didn’t pull it together now, I would be unemployed by this afternoon, unwilling, but still unable to avoid returning home to my parents with my tail tucked between my legs as I begged for help. After the nightmares I’d endured all night, home was the last place I wanted to go.

  Pushing up to my feet, I ignored the terror flowing through me as I dressed quickly and ran out of my apartment, stopping only to make sure the door was locked tight before I took the elevator to the bottom floor and ran to my car. Sneaking peeks at the people around me on the sidewalk, I didn’t see a man who looked familiar, didn’t notice any person looking back at me for more than a split second to figure out why I was running. Although there wasn’t a person running behind me in chase, it didn’t mean I wasn’t being chased by my circumstances.

  Settling behind the wheel, I pulled into traffic as my mind attempted to make sense of everything that was happening in my life. Desperation had forced me into many tight spots in my life, but nothing like the one I was in now. I had nowhere I could turn, and only one person I could talk to, but would Rachel understand the decisions I made? My heart beat hard and heavy as I mulled over how much I should say to her about what I’d done, but my muscles tensed at the thought she would only do to me what my father had always done: tell me how stupid I was for the decisions I made and then tell me I was on my own to fix them.

  Since childhood, I’ve carried so much loneliness inside of me. I’ve always known that when push came to shove I was on my own in this world. Even with a best friend, even with two parents who were still alive, I had nobody I could run to, nobody who could keep me safe from the world…or from myself.

  The pain of that loneliness was shredding my organs with its razor sharp claws as I pulled into a parking spot near my office building, it was whispering hurtful words as I ran up the sidewalk to run inside. Why I kept running, I had no idea, but the interior of the building made me feel safer somehow, at least until I remembered the cold, unfeeling man I was climbing the stairs to spend my day with.

  Praying with everything inside me that Jackson would be in the office when I arrived, I bust through the front door of the office at eight sharp to find the lights were still off and the tablet Donovan used to communicate was sitting in the center of the desk. Behind the reception area, there was only the orange glow of the security lights and I knew instantly that Jackson wouldn’t be arriving today to act as a buffer between Donovan Stone and me.

  I had to calm down, had to will my heart to stop trying to pound through my chest. Losing my job would just be a rotten cherry sitting atop the rancid sundae my life had become. Breathing out, I crossed the lobby to pick up the tablet. My thumbs flew quickly in hopes my message would beep through on time. The last thing I needed was Donovan’s bold reminder that, once again, I was late.

  I’m here.

  After a minute, no response had come through and I grew anxious. Donovan wasn’t exactly what any person would refer to as comforting, but still, his presence was better than being alone. Especially for me. Especially right now.

  Thinking that he may not have come in today, I dropped the tablet on the reception desk and walked the few feet to the door leading into the back area. The handle shook in my grasp, but was locked tight, leaving me unable to begin my day in the company of a silent man. More tears threatened my eyes because even the company of a man as cold as ice was better than being alone and exposed. My stalker could be anywhere, could be anyone, and being near Donovan’s quiet strength would help ease some of the terror inside me.

  Running back to the desk, I tapped out another message.

  Mr. Stone? Did my last message go through? I’m waiting in the lobby and the door is locked.

  While briefly considering climbing over the reception desk to access the back, despite the cameras I knew would be recording that embarrassing maneuver, I locked my front teeth on the tip of my fingernail and tapped my foot. Several seconds of indecision passed before the tablet in my hand beeped in response.

  You’re two minutes late.

  Oh, hell no. I was not late. And I certainly wasn’t in the mood to put up with his intimidation tactics today. My thumbs flew over the screen, my head turning toward the ceiling as if just looking up meant I was staring into one of his damn cameras.

  You’re mistaken. I sent you a message at exactly eight sharp when I came in. Please check your cameras if you don’t believe me.

  It took another few seconds for his response.

  What cameras?

  Shaking my head, I refrained from screaming across the office that he was a bastard. Not that I needed to scream. Despite his question, I knew he had eyes and ears all over this place.

  I wanted to tell him what I thought of his stupid cameras. I wanted to tell him what I thought of his refusal to have a warm, compassionate cell in his body. I wanted to tell him that I refused to work another second for him because he didn’t deserve someone like me, someone who cared, someone who would work her ass off just to make sure his business was a success. I wanted to toss the fucking tablet across the room and watch it shatter into a thousand tiny shards…

  But I didn’t do any of those things. Instead, I grit my teeth, and politely typed, I was on time. Please open the door so I can start working.

  The tablet beeped back. When will you start sticking up for yourself, Ms. Jennings?

  So enraged by his question, I failed to notice the door to the backroom popping open, failed to notice the impeccably dressed man who stepped through, who leaned against the opened door and stared at me with his arms crossed over his broad chest.

  It wasn’t until Donovan cleared his throat that my eyes snapped up from the surface of the tablet to land on him. He simply grinned in response. My mouth opened and closed on several failed responses, but eventually I decided against saying anything besides a mumbled, “Thank you.”

  Brushing past him into the back room, I didn’t bother asking for permission before turning on the lights. I didn’t bother looking back at him either after depositing my purse into a desk drawer and grabbing a stack of folders to get to work.

  It was as quiet as a tomb behind me, but that didn’t mean anything. Donovan wasn’t exactly the loud type. Unsure if he was standing there watching me, or if the feeling of being watched was a result of the game being played against me by another stranger, I attempted to ignore the shaking of my hands and the frantic beat of my pulse.

  I hadn’t heard Donovan’s door close, and eventually my curiosity won out. After stuffing a few records into the folder I was holding, I turned to find Donovan leaning against a wall, his eyes on me while his hands held his tablet.

  He didn’t bother looking at the screen as he typed, his lips tugging into a smirk as the tablet on my desk flared to life with his message.

  Are you ignoring me this morning? I’m your boss, Ms. Jennings. That’s not allowed.

  As soon as my brain was finished interpreting his message, the tablet fell from my hands to the surface of the desk. Like a damn earthquake, my body shook uncontrollably, the fear from another similar message I’d received that day taking over. Slamming my palms down on the desk, I attempted to keep myself upright. I closed my eyes in hopes that the bile forcing its way up my throat didn’t choke me.

  Hands touched both my shoulders and I startled cry flew over my lips, my body moving so close to the desk that the edge pressed painfully into my thighs. Donovan’s touch was gone as quickly as it had started, but I could still feel the heat of him behind me, could still feel the icy chill of his cold stare.

  Unable to face him while I was fighting away the flood of emotions inside, I opened my eyes again w
hen my tablet beeped.

  Are you ill?

  Despite not seeing the expression on his face, I knew his question was asked with complete seriousness. I must have looked to him like a lunatic who had only recently escaped the nuthouse, a shaking female that was putting as much space between our bodies as possible.

  Turning slowly, I faced my new boss to see concern etched into the strong features of his beautiful face. My heart picked up again as a rush of desire filtered in to mix with everything else, as my attraction to this man made itself known. Staring at him, and regretting the distance he had placed between us after seeing my earlier reaction, I stumbled over a response.

  “I’m not ill,” I forced out with an even voice. “I’ve just had a rough morning and I’d like to get to work so I can calm down. I promise I’m not letting my personal life affect my work.”

  That’s good. Because I have a project for you to work on with me this morning. I was waiting for you to ask me if there was anything I needed, but by the looks of it, you’d already planned your day without consulting your employer.

  Cold as ice. Callous. Cruel. And whatever concern he’d had a few seconds ago was lost. He was back to being Donovan Stone, aloof businessman who only cared about his bottom line.

  I wanted to think better of him. Especially after everything that Jackson had told me. But looking at him now, understanding that his only concern for me was as his minion he could order around whenever he needed something, I knew better than to believe Donovan even had the capacity to care for another person.

  “You’re right, Mr. Stone. And I apologize. I should have consulted with you first about what to expect today.”

  His lips stretched wider just before he pivoted on his heel to stalk into his office. And like the little, obedient puppy that I was, I followed behind him at his heels.

 

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