Seven
SEVEN
MALIK
Monday morning came too fast. Especially because I spent the entirety of the weekend thinking about seeing Soleil and Dahlia Saturday morning. Dahlia’s excitement was infectious, but Soleil’s wide eyes are what captured me.
I wanted to climb in through her window, show her my face and admit I am infatuated. But then I remembered that behavior is a bit…psychotic and she’d probably end up calling the cops on me.
I thought my heart was going to leap out of my chest and crawl its way up her dress when she dropped off Dahlia this morning. She wore a beautiful light blue dress that made her look like Snow White come to life. She was fucking gorgeous. It took everything in me not to pull her into my arms and steal her breath.
It’s unhealthy how much I think about this woman. She walked into my life one week ago and I feel a bit like an insane man. I soak up every minute with Dahlia in my class because it’s the closest I can get to her mother without getting the cops called on me.
“Earth to Mal.” A hand waves in front of my face and I blink. “Did you hear anything I just said?”
“What? Sorry man. I had a long day at school. You know how kids can be.” I pick up my soda and take a big chug.
Danté’s lip curls and he says, “No. No, I don't know how kids can be. Thank God. I can’t understand why you want to be around those little snotty brats all damn day when you could just be chillin’ at home with all of your money.”
“They’re not snotty brats. Well, not all of them. Maybe one or two. But I like teaching. You know that D. So what if I have money? This fulfills more than money. I get to make a difference in a kid's life.”
His hand freezes, his lips pressed against the opening of his beer bottle, and stares at me. “Jesus, Mal. You sound like an afterschool special.”
I shove his shoulder and he wobbles on his barstool. “Whatever. You’ll never know what it’s like to have a passion because your heart is black.”
“Better than a fucking bleeding heart. Between Henny handing his balls over to Dagen, and you with I love kids hearts in your eyes, I’m the only brother who has any sense. You’ll never find me selling out to a woman or fawning over some kid.”
I shake my head, eyeing him and his pessimism. “One day, D, some chick is going to knock you on your ass and Henny and I will be here to laugh ours off. We’ll help you up, but not before we get a good ha-ha out of it.”
We grow silent, only the music from the speakers between us, and I stare at the picture that sits against the back wall of the bar. It’s of me and my brothers, Henny and Danté, and we’re sitting on our bikes. The first big purchase we made when we sold shares of Dare Inc. Behind the black helmets are three faces with big smiles. We couldn’t believe that three kids nobody wanted were now millionaires.
Hendrix, the kid who stole shit and snuck out at night and into girls’ bedrooms.
Danté, the asshole who hated everyone and had a sick sense of humor, daring people to do crazy shit that you only see in movies. Horror movies.
And then there’s me, the boy whose parents realized they couldn’t be good parents when I was eight and passed me off to the state. I was the kid constantly in fights, using my fists to express how I was feeling because my words would get stuck. Maybe if I wasn’t constantly knocking the teeth out of my foster siblings and kids at school, I wouldn’t have been passed over so many times. When I finally realized the error of my ways, it was too late to hope for a family. Then Hendrix and Danté came along and they were the only family I needed.
I finish off my soda and walk around the bar, our bar, to rinse the glass and set it down to be washed. “I’m gonna take off. I have a few things to do for tomorrow. Are we still riding on Thursday?”
“Always,” D replies and dips his chin.
“See ya,” I tell him, but don’t expect a response.
Danté rarely says goodbye to us. It may seem like he doesn’t care, but it’s really because he’s afraid that saying it could mean the last time. The abandonment issues still run pretty deep with him.
I’m only a few blocks away from the bar when a notification lights up my phone. I know I shouldn’t, but I pull my eyes away for just a moment to see a new like on a post. I pull up to the red light and take a closer look.
Sunny_Grl liked your post
I quickly click on the notification and smile when I see who has liked my post from Saturday's drive when I saw Soleil and Dahlia. The video has a cut with the two of them but I blurred out their faces as I didn’t think it was appropriate to splash a child’s face all over social media.
When I open it, I see the profile picture of a sunset that I’ve looked many times from my cyber stalking, and quickly click the follow request before the light turns green. Her account is private and I didn’t dare request to follow her before, assuming she’d decline and probably block me.
Pulling into my garage, I blow out a deep breath and run through the list of things I must do before calling it a night. First things first; make sure I have everything I need for my lesson plan tomorrow. Once that’s done, it’s on to the next tasks which will take up the rest of my evening. Well past when I should be sleeping.
I do a quick change in my closet then walk across the hall to my office. It’s a dark room illuminated by dark blue strip lights that are dimmed to cast a subtle glow. I fire up my computer and click on the camera attached, and open my social media account.
58 new followers, 176 likes, 13 message requests.
I flip through the comments, like and respond, and sort out the message requests. Spam, companies asking me to rep their product, and a couple of ladies that go on the blocked list. I’ve grown used to the lewd messages, I put myself out there for the world to see. So it’s basically part of the status. I’m just proud of myself for having the foresight to use a different name and always keep my identity a secret. Only a few close friends know who the man behind the mask is, but none of them know about my other proclivities.
I log in to my private server and the messaging app that allows for pictures, short videos, and voice memos to be sent. Not that the other platform doesn’t allow for it, but this allows me to be untraceable. One can only join this server by being invited by me and because the items shared are of a sensitive nature, everything is encrypted.
Upon logging in, I see a dozen notifications. Some just say hello, a few ask for a special treat, and the rest are photos from my members. I don’t ever take any of the women’s offers to meet up for sex, but I’m only a man, so I do admire.
The ladies come in all shapes and sizes, and I love them all. One in particular gets me plenty riled up, allowing me to fulfill a few requests.
I sit back in my chair, secure my black helmet that allows nothing to be seen, and unzip my pants. I hit record and the screen comes to life.
“Hey Baylin. How are you doing tonight? I hope this helps you sleep tonight.”
I pull my hard dick out, fisting the base and snap a photo. I quickly attach the audio and the picture to the message and send it off to her. I don’t advertise my account, and I don’t put the photos up for anyone to see. These are specific to each woman. Some just want to hear my voice, but only a handful want pictures. I’ve had requests for me to remove my helmet, but I’ll never do that. The moment I do is the moment my entire life unravels. I’d lose my job and I couldn’t bear the thought of it.
Once I send a few more pics, I hop back over to my social media account and decide to check out some of my new followers. It’s always something I like to do. They see my footprint on their page and it makes them feel special to see that I’m peeping.
I check out the profile from my new like, Sunny_grl, and my heart soars when my request is approved and in turn, she follows me back.
Soleil.
I start scrolling through photos and see one of who I know is Dahlia even though the face is covered with a sticker. I see some of her and a hot blonde chick, what looks to be her parents, and a man…her husband.
My jaw clenches and I grow the tiniest bit jealous when I see them smiling together. I swallow remembering that Dahlia mentioned he passed and I wonder what the story is. There are photos of the three of them, plenty of just Soleil and him, one on their wedding day that makes me want to throw up, and then suddenly they all just stop. For the last several months it’s been nothing but she and Dahlia. And not very many. A few of them moving into their new house and one from last week when I saw them at the ice cream shop.
My eyes land on one that is Soleil standing on the beach where the sand meets the sea. Her black hair is blowing back from her face and only her face is pointed towards the camera. The smile on her face is small but warm, and the sun is reflected in her eyes. The caption reads…
The ocean ebbs and flows and so does life. Ready for mine to be smooth sailing.
Before I realize what I’m doing, I hit the like button on the post. I consider unliking it, but chances are she got the notification. At least now she’ll know that I’m watching.
I just hope she never realizes the extent to which I will follow.