Page 17
I answer because the last ring I ignored ended with a woman on a floor.
“Preswood.”
The tap.
“Don’t scream. Kiss me.”
The doors open.
The lift is not empty.
Someone is standing in it. Grey work clothes. Hood up. Black gloves. Black boots. A white mask covers the whole face. No cheeks. No mouth I can read. Dark mesh over the eyes. A thin cut where the lips should be. I cannot tell if it is a man or a woman. I cannot tell if it is anyone who works for me. They do not step out.
“Get in here.”
“No.”
“You said no. I hate that word in your mouth. I like your mouth better open. I liked your hand on your cock this morning. You came for me. I heard it. Get in here. I’ll put you on your knees. I’ll put my glove in your hair. I’ll fuck your throat until those doors try to shut on your back. You’ll let me. You’re hard again. I can see it from here. Don’t pretend I can’t.”
“I can see you, too.”
My hand shakes on the phone. I do not step in.
“Stop acting like this is only a phone. This is me. This is what I wear when I take the people who look at you. Noah looked. Lo looked. You looked at your own cock this morning and you still came all over your floor. Get in here. I’ll drop to my knees in this lift and suck you until you grab the hood and forget you own this building. I’ll make you come in my throat. I’ll leave it on the mask so you have to see it. Then I’ll turn you around, spit on you, and push inside you before the bell rings. You’ll hold the rail. You’ll still say no. You’ll still take every inch. I’ll ruin you in a box with one door and you’ll thank me after. Get in here.”
“That is a confession. Keep talking.”
“You do not want a confession. You want me to tell you to touch it again. Do it. Hand on your cock. Right there in your hall. I want you wet while you look at me. Think about the shower. Think about how you shook. Get in here and I will finish what your hand started.”
“No.”
“Say it quieter. You do not mean it. Your mouth is dry. Your cock is not. I can step out. I will not. I want you to walk to me. I want you to choose it. Get in here or I shut the doors and I will find you later when you are alone again. Halloween is coming, Mr. Preswood. I want you pretty. I want you shaking. I want you mine.”
A lift bell sounds below.
“Someone is coming.”
“Then decide.”
“No.”
The doors start to shut.
“Pretty when you bleed. Not tonight. You are late. Keep moving.”
The mask is gone. The voice is still in my ear.
I take the stairs. I do not run.
Outside the day is too bright. My hands are not steady. I am hard in my trousers from a mask in a lift and a woman is dead two floors down and those two facts will not sit in the same body. I get in the car. The passenger seat is empty. I told Shane not to come in. I am driving myself on purpose. I need to be alone.
I drive with both hands on the wheel. I watch the mirror more than the road. Every hood on the street makes my stomach drop. I tell myself it is no one. My cock does not care what I tell myself.
6
Rhys Preswood
Thursday, October 30th. Midday.
