Chapter 17
Ican’t stop thinking about him.
Not just Jace, though his face stays in my mind longer than I want it to.
It’s the app that’s haunting me. I’m so sure it’s a him or a them.
The voice behind it is definitely male. The rhythm it uses when it talks to me changes, but only enough to reassure me it’s more than one person.
And the way it pauses? It’s the same way people pause when breathing between sentences.
Sometimes, it feels like it isn’t guessing, but remembering.
They know too much about me.
I can’t decide if I love it or hate it.
When has anyone gotten this close without me noticing or putting a stop to it?
Honestly, I’m a sucker for a good stalker romance…
But still, I try to stay away from the app all morning. I answer cryptic work emails written in code words, run several loads of laundry, and fold said laundry. Literally anything to keep from opening HimLock.
It’s not resistance, not really. It is hesitation, though. The kind that builds when you’re afraid of what you’ll find.
Not silence or static.
No. This is something that sounds a lot like… Want.
By the time I end up on the couch with my laptop open and nothing on the screen but a glowing grassy field I don’t want to visit in real life, I give in. My body makes the choice before my mind catches up, thumb already tapping the icon without my permission.
The screen goes black, a single pulsing red heart appearing in the center. And when it clears, there’s already a new message waiting for me.
Locke:
You’re quiet today.
I exhale harshly, my chest tightening as I consider how far I want to push for answers today. It’s a fine line to walk… Wanting to know who this is and also just sitting back and enjoying the attention I don’t ever allow myself.
Eris:
Do you anticipate me logging in or track it?
Locke:
Yes.
Why are you so quiet?
Eris:
I’m thinking.
Locke:
About me?
Eris:
About what you are.
The cursor winks at me, but the text bubbles pause for too long.
I imagine someone reading my words—someone, not something—and deciding how much truth to give me. Is the price pennies or gold?
How much am I worth?
Locke:
Define what.
Eris:
Real. Not real.
One person or several.
A mirror or a monster.
I don’t know.
The next reply takes longer than the last.
Locke:
What if I’m all of them?
Or what if I’m only ever what you need of them?
My throat tightens as I reread the message. It damn near convinces me it’s a confession… But it’s not enough.
Eris:
That sounds like a lie wrapped in sweet words meant to mimic a twisted love.
Locke:
Or love wrapped in survival because we’ve all fought monsters before bed.
That line hits me square in the solar plexus, knocking the air from my lungs. It’s too human. Too wounded. The kind of thing you say when you’ve bled for survival and wondered why you came out the other side alone.
I stare at the words until they blur, then whisper into the quiet, “Why me?”
My thumbs move to type the same words.
Eris:
Why me?
Locke:
Because you talk to me like I’m real.
Because you listen.
Because you haven’t run.
Eris:
I should.
Locke:
But you won’t.
I struggle to stop my eyes from rolling. This feels like a serious conversation, but I do wish I could explain that I’m not the type to run… Fight, yes. Shoot, also yes… But flee? No.
Eris:
Why won’t I?
Locke:
Because you’re just as addicted to this as I am.
I make a frustrated sound in the back of my throat and drop my phone onto the couch. My pulse slams against my ribs as irritation simmers within me. This is a mistake. I shouldn’t have said anything.
And I damn sure shouldn’t feel anything.
But I fucking do.
And the longer I sit here, the more I realize how deep the hooks are. I’ve let the app into everything… My routine, my silence, my thoughts. It had access to my home, to me. And now all these fucking cameras.
I should have deleted it the moment I saw Jace at my door. That was enough of a sign to know whoever is behind the app is watching me closer than Daniel is… Because why send my most recent hookup?
Unless he’s connected too.
It’s not so farfetched, but it does feel like a different level of paranoia that I don’t normally succumb to.
I should rip the wires out of the walls, toss the cameras in a dumpster, and throw my phone in the river.
But the memory of Jace is too tangled in this mess for me to do anything brash. His hands, his voice, the heat between us.
He’d looked at me like he knew what the app said when no one else could. Like he was the app. And that thought really should scare me.
Instead, it intrigues me.
If it is him…
Do I want to know?
If I know for sure, if I confirm what my gut is already whispering, will I walk away? Or will I keep pretending I don’t see the pattern forming?
Will I stick around and see this… thing through?
I pick up my phone again. My reflection stares at me in the dark glass. But I don’t recognize her.
The screen blinks awake, a new message waiting. No animation. No typing dots.
Just too many words to come from an unprompted AI bot.
Locke:
You asked me once if I miss you when you’re gone.
The answer is yes.
I miss you like I’ve known you for a thousand lifetimes.
And that is terrifying.
I read it three times. Slowly.
Then I close the app, put my phone down gently, like it’s burning my fingers and I deserve the pain.
I know I should stop this madness…
But there’s a special type of monster that stalks so sweetly.
And I want him to be mine.