She’s not a mark.
She’s the line I already crossed.
Matt narrows his eyes. “What the hell is this about?”
Time to come clean.
“I was at a bar. Waiting on Silas Rourke.” I pause and meet his gaze. “There was a group of women behind me talking.”
Matt shifts. Subtle. But it’s there. “And?”
“Laurette told her friends she wanted a man who’s obsessed with her. That’s the word she used.Obsessed.”
He fixes his eyes on me, thrown for a beat. “You heard her say that, and now you’re watching her?”
“I want to know if she meant it. If she wants a man who hears something that dark and answers the call.”
Matt lets out a sharp breath. “Or maybe she was talking shit. A performance for her friends. Not laying out a blueprint for a full-blown stalker fantasy.”
He wasn’t there. He didn’t hear her voice or the heat threaded through those syllables.
It wasn’t a joke. It was a confession.
“She wasn’t pretending. She was aware of what she was asking for.”
Matt doesn’t say anything. He just watches me.
“She asked for obsession. So I’m watching. If she backs off, I’ll vanish. But if she leans in—I won’t let go.”
Matt scoffs, but he doesn’t argue.
He turns back to the screen, typing harder than he needs to. Code flashes, and the feed loads.
“Fuck it,” he says. “Let’s see if your fantasy girl can take the heat.”
Matt’s in within minutes—satellite pings, local routers sniffed, encryptions cracked. One by one, the feeds light up: street view, porch, foyer, living room.
My pulse kicks.
Matt tilts the laptop closed, just enough to break the spell. “Are you going to tell her she’s being watched?”
“I’ll tell her at some point. Let her get off on knowing I see everything.”
“Fuck, Bash.” His jaw locks, fingers hovering. “Of course you’d find a woman who’s into this shit. Can’t you ever do normal?”
“No. Who wants normal?”
Normal is dinner and a movie with sex after the third date. It’s missionary under soft sheets that barely move, two to three times a week. Blowjobs on birthdays and anniversaries.
I want cum-slicked sheets and her on all fours. Her face buried in the mattress while I fuck every sound out of her. Bruises in placesonly I’ll see. Teeth on skin. Nails down my back. I want to own her breath, her cunt, her ass. I want to wake her with my cock already inside her. I want her wrecked and still reaching for more. I want her craving me like a sickness with no cure.
I want obsession in return.
Normal is dead weight.
Matt exhales, shakes his head, and finishes the hack. “If she runs… you’ll let her go?”
“I will.”
