The sounds and smells of the calm street washed over me. Garlic filled my nose as I walked past the restaurant we went to for dinner, and the low hum of cars on the freeway sounded in the distance. This road was much different than the main street in the opposite direction that would be bustling with college kids and the weekend crowd squeezing into the popular bars.
I’d fallen in love with the city after moving there more than ten years ago. It was smaller than the large city I grew up in, but was still big enough for a successful career. Once I made enough money from working around the clock at my first job, I moved Mom and Dad so they were close by.
As soon as I stepped into the dimly lit ground floor of the garage, dread filled my stomach and my limbs stiffened. I sensed eyes on my back as I fumbled for my keys, goosebumps rising on my skin. My body went on alert as I pushed the button for the elevator. When the doors slid closed and the car moved upward, I blew out a breath. Before the elevator reached the second floor I had my knife under my now untucked blouse.
The doors opened, and I moved my purse in front of my hand while gripping my keys firmly in the other. Chills ran down my spine. Someone was right behind me. I whipped around, drawing the knife, ready to plunge it into flesh.
There was nothing. I turned and sprinted to my car, sweat beading on my brow. Throwing open the driver door, I crashed inside, slamming the lock button as soon as the door closed. I tossed my shit in the passenger seat, knife included, and satback to catch my breath. I started the car and grabbed my phone from my purse.
Backing out of the spot, I glanced down at my phone to see a text from an unknown number. Through all the commotion, I’d missed the notification on my smartwatch. The screen unlocked after I pressed my thumb to the glass, driving down to the first level. I tapped the icon and slammed my brakes.
“Enjoying your night, baby girl?”
Chapter Eight
Ryan
My plan backfired.It had been damn near a week, and I hadn’t heard from Raven. When I sent her the voice clip I was certain that she would message back with an audio request. She hadn’t. I didn’t know what was more annoying, the fact that she hadn’t responded or that she stopped interacting with my posts on social media altogether. Maybe the voice message was too much for her, or maybe she was just busy.
Of course, she was busy. I knew I shouldn’t have read into it, but I couldn’t keep my thoughts in check.
Her subscription was still active on the paid platform and would be for the next month until she was autobilled. I wondered if she had unsubscribed after the message, but I wouldn’t know until the next payment cycle whether she was charged again.
I bobbed my knee incessantly while sitting on the couch the next Friday. There was another scheme I plotted to get the little minx to talk to me. And by me, I meant Zander. It wasn’t going to be as simple as just sending her a message. I hadalready tried that on the paid site. I kept it simple, just asking for what she wanted in the free clip. When that went unanswered for a few days, I sent another telling her the promotion would expire soon and to send her request as soon as possible. Nothing.
Raven was a successful business woman, not a social media dopamine addict that would fall at my virtual feet. Her minimal online presence indicated she wasn’t going to be won over by a personal audio clip and an instant message. I drained the last of my energy drink and glanced at the clock.
Eight p.m. It was late enough she should’ve been home from the office even though she worked all the time. I tapped the virtual phone app I had installed earlier that afternoon and copied the number Raven called me from on Saturday. It was different from the one she used the first time I had spoken to her, so I was banking on it being her personal cell number.
Pasting the number into the app after I set up a burner phone number, I tapped the text icon.
“Enjoying your night, baby girl?” I pressed send and waited. Patience while hoping she responded wasn’t easy, but if she didn’t, I had a backup plan. One that involved Zander’s voice.
Twenty minutes passed, and I stared at the phone like a psycho the entire time, unsure what it was about her that was making me insane. I knew little about her and had only seen one photo, and yet I was obsessed with the dark-haired woman. It wasn't normal by any means, but I was drawn to her like a moth to a flame. I’d even broken my own rules of not interacting with a follower by sending the audio. What I was doing now was definitely beyond the personal boundaries I’d set for myself as a narrator, but I didn’t care in the slightest.
The night I came to the conclusion she was most definitelyFinigirl, my hesitations about pursuing my finance lady were shot to hell. Raven was going to be mine, and she was going to come willingly. What we did after that didn’t matter, but I was going to make her want me so badly that she couldn’t think of anything else. It was worth the pain that would most certainly come after.
In the past I had tendencies to become obsessed with things, but it never happened with a person before. When I was younger I wouldn’t stop playing a game until I beat it, staying awake all night. I was lucky that my parents didn’t check on me after I went to “bed,” even if they were home.
In college, for the two years I was there, I was consumed by partying and drinking, finally out from under my scrutinous parents' noses. They thought I was attending class and social functions like a gentleman, but I was actually passed out on some dude’s couch. Deep down, as a child, I’d harbored hope for my parents to care and finally accept me someday and the drinking was a result of that hope slipping away.
Once I was kicked out of college for missing classes, I had a long conversation with myself and sought therapy to get my shit together. Mom and Dad weren’t happy, but they paid for a good therapist, and I appreciated their help in that regard. The straw that broke the camel’s back would come later.
I saw the therapist for two years before my parents gave me the boot and stopped paying for it. Without them, I had nothing. No home, no money, no family since my only other relative, my uncle, died in a car crash when I was a child. It was fine with me since I refused to be who they wanted me to be. When I got on my feet and started to earn my own money, I didn’t go back to the doctor. I should’ve gone back considering I was enthralled by the high I get from getting people off with my voice, and now my infatuation with Raven. But I was having too much fun.
Raven was different from any other woman I’d encountered, and I couldn’t put my finger on why she was going to ruin me. I just knew that she would. She was clearly attractive, and anyone who didn’t think so needed a brain scan. More than that, she was successful and strong. Not to mention she was older and had a corporate goth vibe—weaknesses I didn’t know I had until her.
But, there was something else. From the moment I heard her voice, I wanted to play with her. I wanted to make her want all of me, not just my voice. Moving on probably wouldn’t be an option even if I could quell my fixation, but I no longer gave a fuck. I knew I wasn’t good enough, but she was going to become obsessed with me, too. Then I was going to fuck her until I was branded into her mind and soul, ruining her for anyone else.
A check mark indicating the message had been read appeared, pulling me from reliving my past. My heart woke up in my chest, and anticipation flooded my body. I jumped up and began pacing around my apartment, needing to move.
Five minutes. Ten minutes. Twenty. Still no response. “Come on, baby. You’re the worst fucking tease.”
At the fifty-minute mark, the three typing dots appeared, and I sat down in my desk chair, focusing on the screen. The dots jumped just like my pulse, and then they disappeared. I groaned at the push and pull she was doing. This woman was a witch weaving a spell on me, and she hadn’t even said anything. A minute went by with nothing, and I blew out an exasperated breath.
Then a message appeared. “Who is this?”
Fucking finally. Even if it was a generic response to getting a text from an unknown number.
