Lake's Reign

by A. E. D

  Steadily getting up off the dead body, I step over him and pick the laptop up, sitting down on the sofa behind me. At least he was smart enough to have a password on his laptop, but not as smart as I thought it would be.

  “Pussymaster69.. Is he for real?” Of course that’d be his password. Wiping my forehead again, the blood still hasn’t stopped gushing out but I don’t have the time to deal with that right now. Right now, I need to find what he has on me.

  ✧✧✧

  He really is a pervert.

  I went through files and files of BDSM, domination and degradation porn, even midget porn. I’ve heard the rumors about Xavier’s raunchy life before so I wasn’t really surprised to see these files. I was surprised however to see his own homemade porn files on there. Pretty disappointing I must say.

  After weeding my way through his porn, I finally find what I’m looking for. A little file with information about me including my number and description of how I look. Honestly, I have no idea how this guy couldn’t put two and two together sooner. Before I got the chance to wipe his hard drive, there was a loud banging coming from the front door.

  “X, man. Let me in.” It’s Mason. Fuck, he’s already here. Standing up quickly, I shut the laptop and take it with me, stepping over the dead and bleeding corpse on the floor, briskly making my way to the stairs that lead up to the second floor. If I can make it to the fire escape on the second floor then I can get out without being noticed.

  Taking the stairs two at a time, I’m able to get out of view just as the door smashes open, wood splintering off into the air. Peering around the corner near the railing of the stairs, I see Mason. I never thought I would have such a deep attraction to anyone, let alone a man like Mason. One who comes from my world, a world in which holds no value to women. It’s like they say, it’s a man’s world out there, but I’m the exception.

  I find the bedroom I’m looking for and sit down on the edge of the bed, opening up the laptop. Feeling mischievous I change my plans. Instead of wiping the hard drive I wipe just my file instead. Leaving all the other information for Mason to find. Because one, it will be entertaining to watch him blow a fuse from his so called ‘friend’ having a whole dossier on him and two, with all this information, Mason won’t suspect me of killing Xavier.

  “FUCK!” I had to stifle a laugh when I hear the explicit word exit Mason’s mouth. Judging from this reaction I assume he’s had trouble finding anything on me. I bet he thought this was his golden ticket. If it wasn’t for Mason storming into my life and making my body crave him like it does, I would never have been at that club, never fucked that guy who looked similar to Mason and never heard Mile’s conversation, then Xavier would still be alive. Really, it’s Masons own fault the guy’s dead and can’t find anything on me.

  “Monty, get the fuck over here.” I pause to hear a reply but none comes.

  “He’s DEAD that’s why you idiot. Just get here and help me search the place. You and I both know out of anyone, he would have known something about her.” A silence follows shortly after Mason stops speaking. I figured he called Monty from the lack of replies I heard, plus I didn’t miss the distinguished sound of an iPhone shutting off.

  “Oh, X. What did you get yourself into?” I can almost hear sadness in his voice. It truly sounds like he was actually close with Xavier. I know I should feel bad but I don’t. Why is it so hard for him to understand that all I want is privacy? I don’t want to be found, I want to stay hidden in the shadows like I have been all my life.

  My grandparents lost their life because they wouldn’t listen to my father. They couldn’t understand why they weren’t allowed to see their daughter and granddaughter anymore. He made it look like an accident, making everyone think they both died from unpreventable natural causes. I watched him inject an air bubble into both their veins, which could travel to either their brain, heart or lungs. I don’t know which one they died from but it was either a heart attack, stroke or respiratory failure. Whatever it was, it was completely undetected in the autopsy and it was just ruled out as a side effect from old age. But sometimes I often thought that maybe the coroner was one of my father's men or at least in on it. Whatever it was, that was the first time I was every allowed outside with other people. My father warned my mother that if she didn’t cry at the funeral then she would be joining them soon after. By the time they died, my mother wasn’t herself anymore. She was dead inside. She didn’t even care that her own parents were murdered in front of her. The only time she ever showed emotion was when my father ordered it.

  Cursing myself for falling into a deep memory, it’s too late for me to make a run for it when I hear footsteps coming closer to the bedroom. With no time to spare I place the laptop that’s already gone to sleep mode and make a dash for the door. I side step just in time as the door slowly opens. Thanking the gods that the floors are carpeted or else Mason would have found me. Now standing behind the opened door, flat against the wall, I focus on calming my erratic heartbeat and breathing. Mentally begging Mason not to turn the light on, he doesn’t, instead walking straight through to the laptop on the bed that just flashed on. Tilting my head slightly, I watch his hunched over form sitting on the edge of the bed, placing the laptop on his lap. I had taken the passwords off before I wiped my file so he was able to get straight in. I watched from the shadows as his dark and beautiful stormy eyes scan across the screen. The light reflecting in his dark orbs make them look like a beautiful midnight sky. His brows furrowed in confusion then anger when I realize he must have found his file or should I say files.

  “Mase?” Monty arrived just in time for Masons outburst that I know is coming.

  “Here.” His voice already holds anger, knuckles white from how hard they’re being clenched. Monty makes quick work jogging up the carpeted stairs, soft thuds getting louder as he gets closer to the room. The asshole pushes the door wide open, as if it isn’t opened up wide enough already. I push myself further into the wall praying he doesn’t feel the need to push it flat against the wall.

  “What’s wrong?” Poking my head back out slightly I see the two sitting side by side each other on the bed, both focused on the screen.

  “That prick had files on all of us, Monty. I thought he was one of us.” Monty laughs before shooting up off the bed, missing Masons flying fist by an inch.

  “Come on, Mason. Everyone knew he was a slimy shit. He sold out his own brother for god's sake. What does that tell you? Hm?” Monty finishes with a hand on his hip, emphasizing the ‘hmp’ at the end. Mason huffs before rubbing a hand up and down his face, defeat clearly showing. He hands the laptop to Monty before getting up and walking out the room.

  “What are you doing?” Monty asks watching his friend leave the room.

  “I’m leaving. This was another dead end.” Masons voice carries up the stairs he’s just walked down. Monty huffs and rolls his eyes before walking after his friend, mumbling along the way.

  “Why does he have to be infatuated with her. Her of all people. Idiot’s gonna get us all killed.” I think I like Monty. It seems he’s the only one that has a brain.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I waited a few minutes before carefully pushing the door away from me, praying it doesn’t squeak and walking across the carpeted floor to the bedroom window that held my exit. The fire escape was just outside this window and it was just my luck that the window was jammed closed. It seems whenever Mason is around things don’t go my way. I get bad luck.

  As slowly and quietly as I could, while keeping one ear trained on their noise downstairs, I pull the window open. I had to stop a few times so the window didn’t make a sound, also because if I didn’t stop, my temper would’ve got the best of me and I would have slammed the window open, not giving two shits about the other occupants in the house. Finally pushing the window open wide enough to fit my body through, I push my right leg out first, then grabbing the windowsill and pulling the rest of my body out quietly.

&nbs
p; That was, until my left foot hit the windowsill making me stumble out the window, face planting the metal structuring of the fire escape and splitting my already split head open more. The sound of metal clashing together spread throughout the air.

  “Shit!” Stupid fucking window. Rubbing my head, I can feel blood start to trickle down my face again. Steadily standing up, I pause, making sure my little fuck up wasn’t heard and again, as if the universe is against me, it was.

  “Did you hear that? Is someone else here?” Monty asked. I lean my head closer to the window listening to their footsteps coming back up the stairs. Thinking quickly, thanking whoever the fuck is out there for making this particular fire escape have a ladder, I kick my foot out, knocking the ladder down, making it fall to the ground with a loud crash. I hear their footsteps quicken their pace up the stairs. With only seconds to go until they reach the room, I crawl down the first few steps before grabbing the rungs and sliding myself down the rest of the way quickly. My feet hit the ground with a thud. Not wasting any time, I run to the opposite side of the street, directly across from the townhouse. A random guy comes into view walking down the sidewalk carrying a brown paper bag full of groceries. Without a second thought I run up to him, swinging my arm around his waist and laying my head against his chest. He stops walking, startled that a strange woman just ran into his arms, literally. I pull him along making it seem like we’re a couple out for a nightly stroll.

  “Just play along, please.” I whisper against his chest. I never beg but right now I can’t be found by Mason. The man doesn’t say anything, just nods before continuing to walk. Looking up, I turn my head slightly to look over his shoulder at the window I just escaped from. Masons godly head pops out the window, looking down at the fire escape ladder that lays bare of any human contact he was hoping to find. He hits the windowsill with his fist, clearly angry that things aren’t going his way. I can’t hear what he’s saying but from his rigid body language I can tell he’s pissed off. Feeling my eyes on him, he looks up, looking straight at me and the mystery man. He studies us for a moment too long before he sighs, slumping his muscled shoulders and pulling himself back in, disappearing from sight. Letting out a breath I didn’t know I was holding, I finally pull my hand back from the young guy I was holding onto. Straightening myself up, I was about to turn away when a bag of frozen peas presented themselves in front of me. I give the stranger a questioning look before he huffs out, replying to my unspoken question.

  “For your head.” He points to a spot on his forehead, the same spot where I now sport a bloody lump from my fall and Xavier's coffee table. One raised eyebrow and another huff before the strange yet curious man replies.

  “You make it a habit of falling out of windows?” Ah, I see. He saw my shit show of an attempt to escape from my sexy yet extremely unwelcomed fantasy.

  “No..” Sometimes. I never grew up sneaking out of bedroom windows at night to go party with my friends or hook up with boyfriends. So, I never developed that level of skill to sneak out windows perfectly.

  Shaking my head, I grab the bag of peas he so generously offered. I didn’t realize how much my head hurt until I placed the bag on top. The coldness instantly relieved the slight throbbing that was slowly building into a headache.

  “I’m Jordan, you?” Jordan, huh. He looks like a Jordan. Tall slim body that houses building muscles. Dressed in black skinny jeans, tight but not too tight, a black shirt with a denim jacket over the top that has a cotton hoodie attached to it. He looks stylish and appropriate for New York's cooling weather but still trendy enough to fit in with the fashionable young crowd. Soon the temperature will drop and it will start snowing, reminding me of my home, my childhood.

  “Lake.” I don’t know why I reply. I never go out of my way to talk, especially to strangers. I feel myself changing in ways I never thought I would. Ever since the moment I came face to face with Mason I’ve felt something shift inside of me.

  “Who were you running from?” Jordan asks, pulling me out of the never-ending tunnel of memories I seemed to be always going down lately.

  “What makes you think I was running from someone?”

  “I don’t know, maybe the play along part gave it away.” He chuckles, mimicking my previous plea. He kind of feels like an older, more mature version of Keenan. Maybe that’s why I feel comfortable talking to him.

  “Someone who doesn’t listen.” I reply. Someone who thinks he can claim anything he sets his eyes on, someone who’s going to kill my clientele if he’s successful in making any of them talk.

  “Ah, so boy troubles.” Boy troubles.

  If only it was that simple.

  “Something like that.” Feeling the peas starting to warm up I hand them back to Jordan.

  “Thanks for the peas.” What an awkward thing to say.

  “No problem, it looked like a pretty hard fall.” He’s got that right. It would hurt anyone falling head first into a metal structure.

  We continue to walk in silence before Jordan comes to a stop. Figuring that he wants me gone, I walk on, heading in the direction of my apartment.

  “Hey, wait!” Jordan calls out quickly jogging to catch up with me. I stop and turn, looking curiously at the semi familiar looking man approaching me.

  “This is me, my apartment is just up there.” He points to the third level of the bricked building.

  “Come up with me.” He asks smiling brightly. I straighten up, ready for any sudden movements he may make if he doesn’t get the answer he wants. He seems to read my body language as he throws up his hands while shaking his head worriedly.

  “Oh no! Not like that. I’m a doctor! I’d like to stitch that up for you and make sure you don’t have a concussion.” He says hurriedly, rushing out each word as if he’s about to get arrested for harassment. I smirk, liking this guy more and more. It’s not often that I come in contact with a genuine person. It seems the deeper you are into the underworld of New York, the less you are to find people who actually give a damn about the world, about people.

  “Sure.” He smiles, relieved that he hasn’t come across as a creep. Turning around I follow him up the stairs, watching him scan his fob before opening up the front door wide enough for both of us to walk into. Following after him, we walk in silence up the three flights of stairs before coming to a stop in front of a door. My head at this point felt like it was just in a constant state of throbbing.

  Juggling the brown paper bag in one arm, his other pats down his front pocket before his hand moves inside, pulling out a pair of keys. Jordan holds the door open for me to walk in first.

  Such a gentleman.

  He flicks on the light from one of the tall lamps, illuminating his apartment. I was expecting to see a place similar to mine. Expensive, stylish, something that shows your wealth, but instead I find a studio/loft. In front of where I stand is a thin rectangular shaped stand that had fresh flowers sitting in a clear glass vase. Behind the stand is a three-seater plush looking dark chocolate lounge. Stepping into his apartment further a dark mahogany coffee table sits in front of the lounge. A large 60 inch, maybe even bigger, TV, is mounted to the far wall across from the lounge and coffee table. Looking to the right side of the room two small four-foot-high bookcases separates the lounge area from his bedroom, if you can call it that. A king size bed sits near the far-right wall, leaving enough space for a small nightstand and space to walk around. At the head of the bed on the same wall as the TV, a large arched window sits above the bed. No curtains adorn the window which tells me that maybe he likes the view. Dark black bedspread finishes off his bed with a dark plush carpet underneath the bed, protecting the polished wooden floors from the bed feet. A dark wooden chest made from the same material as the bookshelves and nightstand sit opposite the bed. Watches, name tags and even a stethoscope lay on top. Photo frames holding his doctor certificates and graduation certificate decorate the wall above the drawers. A big pot plant sits beside the Chester draws, giving the room ju
st a splash of colour. Vibrant green shows he cares about minimal things such as plants.

  Looking to my left there’s a small dining table with four chairs positioned around the squared table, but look like they haven’t been touched. Another arched window sits above the table shining the light from the city into the kitchen/dining room area. A renovated kitchen with marble bench tops and stainless-steel cooking appliances is to the left side of the room. With the amount of money it would have cost to renovate his kitchen to look like a five star restaurant one, I’m going to assume he loves to cook. The room finishes up with another bookcase, this one at least six-foot-high is against the wall next to the door I’m currently standing in front of. His whole apartment is one giant rectangle. Kitchen and dining area on the left side with a door that I'm assuming leads to the bathroom. The living room sits in the middle with the half closed off bedroom to the right of the apartment.

  He’s definitely a book lover, which of course he would be. Doctors usually study for six years or more. I’d think it would be hard to get out of that reading habit.