“It’ll keep you warm on the way home.”
“Thanks,” I say. It still has his smell, and it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy. “What do I do with the phone?”
He puts on a casual white shirt and walks toward me, cupping my hands together with the phone tucked safely inside. “If your husband bothers you, call me.”
I nod gently, not wanting to disagree, even though I feel that’ll only make it more dangerous. If Greg sees him, he might … no, I don’t want to think about it.
But what if they’re really in it together? What if this is all a farce, and the cell phone is a trap?
I can’t think like that. I have to believe in the good in people. Otherwise, my life will never get better. Even though the circumstances surrounding the way we met are anything but normal. I have to trust my own judgment, and he doesn’t feel like a threat anymore.
“This place …” I mumble, wondering if there’s a reason for all of this. “Have you lived here long?”
“No,” he replies, not even looking away as he says it. “Only since you came to live here.”
I swallow, feeling the warmth flow through my body again, electrifying my skin as the corners of his mouth go up.
“But I like it here … nice and quiet.”
“Not a lot of people,” I muse.
“Exactly.”
“I get that. I’m the same.” I smile. “I like my privacy.”
“Privacy … feels good. People don’t.” He looks away. “But I don’t wanna talk about it.”
His eyes shimmer, and I feel as though we’re connecting on some weird level.
So I grab his arm and say, “Hey, you can talk to me about it. I’m not just here for sex.” Shame brings the red cheeks back, but I ignore them this time. “I came here because, even though you’re stalking me, I feel like you’re the only one I can trust right now.” I chuckle. “My point is you can trust me too.”
I lower my head to be able to look into his eyes. They seem distant. As if he remembers something he’d rather forget.
He blinks slowly as he looks deeply into my eyes and says, “Been hurt too many times.”
18.
Accompanying Song: “What Have We Done To Each Other” by Trent Reznor & Atticus Ross
Drake
2 years before
Writing has always been my number one passion. Stories filled my head from the day I was born. It was all I ever loved, all I ever could. From the day I picked up a pen, I began penning them down. The words flowed from my pen like a never-ending fountain. I could write for days.
Except … only a select few can write books as a means to make a living, and I was not one of them. No matter how many times I wrote a book and submitted it, no one took the bait. And I realized I couldn’t go on waiting for someone to come along and finally pick me up.
Writing, for me, could never be a job.
And I needed a job.
Many writers become journalists or bloggers or even content writers for big companies. Not me, though. If I wasn’t able to make money with my stories, I would make money from teaching, my other love. The only thing I could think of to do for the rest of my life that I didn’t hate. Teaching was the only great substitute for being a real writer.
So that’s what I did after I got out of college … I teach.
More specifically, I teach others how to write.
Creative writing is my forte, and I love standing in front of the class and helping others realize their passion, even if I know it most likely leads nowhere. I’m the first to admit nothing is worse than lost hope. So I give these people hope. Hope that their stories may one day be read, just like mine.
Most of the students like my classes and almost all of them have good grades.
Except for Anna.
Anna … the girl who only took my class because she needed the extra credit. She spins everyone around her finger, including me.
At times, we sat together after class and went over her homework in private. I normally never did such a thing, but I could tell she needed it. There was something more about this girl; something deeper than that superficial layer of a vixen she wanted everyone to see. Something she kept hidden. And the more time I spent with her, the more I wanted to dive in and find out what it was. That thing … that made her tick.
And so we spent more and more time together until the lines between teacher and student began to blur. It wasn’t long before she kissed me. Before we ended up naked in her room.
I wanted to discover all her deepest, darkest secrets … things no one else knew.
It felt like a story waiting to be read.
But I didn’t find anything I could enjoy.
Like all of her victims, I ended up being used.
Used to score easy credit points.
Because after a fight, she told me straight to my face that she was only fucking me to get better grades so she could pass. And when I didn’t give them to her, she ratted me out as a pervert.
Now, I’m here, listening as the school’s senior administrator scolds me for having inappropriate relations with a student while I’m packing the stuff on my desk and putting it all in a neat little square box. Just like my mistakes.
But not even her betrayal hurts me as much as hearing these words …
“You can never teach again.”
Because what use will I be if I cannot write or teach? The only two things in this world that I love. The only things I want to do in life.
I will become useless.
A vapid memory of the man I once dreamed of being.
***
Accompanying Song: “Last Stand” by Kwabs
Hyun
Now
In shock, I stare at him. I don’t know what to say. It sounds horrible. All he wanted was for someone to listen, to read his stories. To be someone. His student used his weakness and turned it against him. Betrayed him in the worst possible way, all for her own gain. And when he was down … nothing was left of him because they kicked him out.
“You … a teacher?” I frown, finding it so hard to believe.
He nods, still a little lost in his own memories, judging by the look on his face. “I needed money. Writing doesn’t earn money,” he mumbles. “At least not books.”
“You don’t know that. Maybe a book you write one day …” I say, licking my lips. I don’t really know what to say.
“I do. I’ve tried, trust me.”
I pull him close and hug him tight. His muscles feel hard against my soft flesh, but soon, he relaxes and lets out a sigh, hugging me back.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I didn’t know that.”
“I don’t like to talk about it,” he replies.
“You don’t have to. I get it.” I pat his back, and I can feel him lean into me even more.
I can tell he’s yearning for attention. Maybe that’s why he’s been around me so much. He craves being close to someone he could trust. Someone who wouldn’t judge him; someone who’s been in the same position as he has. Someone like me.
He leans back and cocks his head. “You should go.”
“But you …”
“I’ll be okay,” he says. “I don’t want you to get in trouble with your man.”
I cringe at the sound of those words coming from his mouth.
“He’s not my man,” I retort. “And he will never be.”
“But he thinks he is,” Drake replies, raising his brows. “And I won’t have him kill you.”
Kill. The word alone sends shivers up and down my spine.
He places his hands on my shoulder and lowers his head. “You’re safer if he knows you’re not with me. At home. I can keep watch over you.”
I nod slowly, still not coming to terms with the fact that I have to leave and that I may not see him again. Because who knows if he’s telling the truth. For all I know, he could be gone by the evening. Packed his bags and left this place as if he was never here in the first place.
Stop thinking
like that, Hyun.
“Right.” I turn and start walking toward his door. Right before I open it, I ask, “Will I see you again?”
His lips quirk up into a smile. “Be safe, Hyun.”
Of course, he doesn’t answer. Just what a stalker would say.
I roll my eyes and smile to myself as I leave the cabin and go back home.
19.
Accompanying Song: “Papi Pacify” by FKA Twigs
Hyun
Of course, he wouldn’t let me go without making sure I was safe.
He followed me all the way back to my house, and I pretended I didn’t notice him for his sake. He likes it when he doesn’t feel caught in the act. I don’t mind. It makes me feel much safer as I go back to my home because if Greg is still there, I’m sure Drake will protect me from him. At least, that’s what I tell myself because it’s the only way I can reason with myself. The only way I can believe Drake when he says he wants me.
As I reach my home, I take a deep breath and look around the corner to see if his car is there, but I don’t see anything unusual. My neighbor is outside in her yard again, sunbathing with a fresh drink, and when she sees me tiptoe around the corner of my own house, she speaks up.
“Hyun? Is that you?”
I stop in my tracks and make a funny face. “Uh … yeah. Hi! How are you?”
“I’m great, thanks. Is everything okay?” There’s a concerned look on her face, and she hisses, “You look scared. If you need me to help or call the cops, let me know.”
I guess she knows more than I think.
“I don’t know …” I whisper back. “Have you seen Greg anywhere near my house?”
“Today? Not that I can think of,” Lorelei says.
“When did you last see him?” I ask, still clutching the wall of my house like it’ll protect me or something.
“Yesterday. I heard a lot of noise, and when I went to check, you were gone, but he was still banging on your door. I saw you leave through the back door.”
“Oh …” I look down, trying to hide my shame.
“It’s all right, honey. You do whatever you have to to escape getting hurt,” Lorelei says, smiling. “Although, I do think you should get a restraining order if it gets too dangerous.”
“I know,” I reply. “Thanks.” But I feel queasy thinking about it. “So you’re sure no one’s inside?”
“Yup. I’ve been baking here the entire day. Watched the neighborhood like a hawk.” She grins and pulls aside the straps of her bikini. “Look how tan I am!” And just like that, this conversation lost any and all depth.
“Wonderful,” I reply, giving her a forced smile. “Enjoy your day!”
“You too, honey!” she says as I turn around and quickly walk to my house.
There doesn’t seem to be any sign of damage to my front door from a forced entry, so maybe Greg did give up. I breathe a sigh of relief and go inside, locking the door behind me. I hope it was a one-time thing only. Hope. That’s a big thing in my life right now because I know it’s probably in vain. Still, I won’t give up.
The first thing I do when I come home is clean up the mess I made and start some laundry. I want to get back into the rhythm and do all my chores until I can pretend it never happened. So I clean and I cook to forget about Greg, thinking only about Drake and how much he’d probably love this tomato soup I’m preparing.
I wonder if he’s spying on me now. Looking right through the window, watching me like a hawk. I fantasize about him jerking off right in front of me, and me enjoying the view. It’s so forbidden, so wrong, but it turns me on like nothing else ever has. It calms my soul, makes me feel okay when everything around me is falling apart. When my life is ruined, this thing I have with Drake is all that’s left.
So I smile and take a sip of the soup, imagining I’m serving it to him tonight.
Of course, I’m eating alone at a table for one, but I can still fake it.
Besides, when I finish eating, I already know what I’m going to do.
Grab my cell phone and contact him.
I already checked the phone when I got home, and it turns out he put his own number in there. Perfect. With a smile on my face, I start texting him.
Hyun: Hey. Are you watching me?
It takes him a while to reply.
Drake: No. Are you in danger?
Hyun: No. I just wanted to know if you were there.
Drake: I’m not. And if I were, you wouldn’t know. Telling spoils the fun.
I grin from his comment, wondering if he’s lying just to make me question myself. It only makes me want to go check all the windows and peek outside.
Hyun: I’ve seen you looking plenty of times before. It wouldn’t be the first time I caught you in the act.
Drake: Only because I wanted you to see me.
Hyun: And now, I want you to see me. Did you know I’m not even wearing panties today?
Drake: You don’t want to go down this route.
Hyun: Yes, I do.
I lick my lips and get up to look at myself in the mirror so I can give him a more accurate description.
Hyun: I’m wearing a short, red top with a lace bra underneath. And below that a secretary’s skirt with black tights. Interested yet?
Drake: Why are you doing this?
A frown appears on my face. He really isn’t easy.
Hyun: Because I’m bored.
Drake: Then get busy.
Hyun: I’d rather get busy with you …
I bite my lip to hide a devious grin. I hope he finally gets the message. I want him to come over. And yes, I know how insane that sounds, but I don’t care anymore. I’m lonely in this house, and all I can think about is him and what he can do to my body. I’m completely lost to him.
Drake: There’s no going back if you do this, Hyun. I don’t take sex with you lightly.
I think about it for a second, wondering if this is really the right thing to do. It isn’t, but screw what’s right and wrong. I don’t care anymore. I want what I want.
Hyun: I don’t want you to take it lightly. I want this to be heavy. And hard.
I’m already drooling at the thought of seeing his cock again. This so isn’t me. But Drake does something to me, and I can’t deny it any longer.
Drake: Really? Prove it. Sit down on your bed and take a picture of your pussy. Send it to me.
Hyun: Why?
Drake: If you ask questions, this conversation ends now.
I sigh as I go into my bedroom, sit down on the bed, and take a picture. My finger lingers over the send button, and it takes me a minute to actually gather the courage to press it. But he’s already seen me. What harm could it be?
Drake: Good. Stay put. I will be there in a minute, and I’ll fuck that pretty pussy raw after I’ve eaten it.
My heart practically beats out of my chest as I read that. He’s so straightforward when it comes to his words that it scares me sometimes. But in a good way.
I put the cell phone away and sit on my bed. Smiling like an idiot, I count down the minutes shown on the clock hanging in the living room. I can honestly say, yes … I am waiting for my stalker to come and take me. And at this point, I don’t care anymore what anyone thinks of that.
As soon as someone rings my doorbell, I jump up and run to the door, patting down my skirt, so it still looks mildly appropriate in case someone passes by on the street and looks inside.
However, when I open the door, the biggest shock of my life meets me.
***
Accompanying Song: “A Reflection” by Trent Reznor & Atticus Ross
“Hello, Hyun. Wishing I were someone else?”
Greg’s raging face is the first thing I see, and it makes me scream.
He latches onto the door as I try to block him out, ramming the door against his fingers several times. He yells out loud.
“You fucking whore!” he hisses. “I know you’ve been cheating. That bitch Annushka was right.”
Oh go
d, I knew it. He’s been getting his info from Mr. Reed.
I told Annushka everything—where I live, how I’m doing, who else is in my life—and now, he knows it too.
“It’s too late to deny it,” he growls, trying to force his way inside.
“Get out of my house!” I yell back, but his foot is stuck in the door.
I look around to see if I can grasp anything in my reach, but the nearest scissors are too far away. I can’t go anywhere without giving him free rein of my home. I can’t reach for my gun, and I can’t win this by force.
So I do the only thing I can do.
I scream as loud as I can.
Harder than I ever have before. So loud, my lungs feel like they’re about to burst.
And for some reason, this sudden outburst of energy that I’ve been keeping locked inside has him frozen. Completely still, like time itself has stopped, and he’s just staring at me.
Then his eyes shift toward something else. To the right … away from my home.
His fingers unfurl from the doorjamb, and he slowly backs away from my home. With tears in my eyes and sweat rolling down my back, I watch him leave. I’m determined to find out where he’s going, so I’ll know for a fact he won’t come back.
Only when I look outside do I realize what made him leave.
Indecent Games Duet - Boxed Set Page 33