Chapter 22
Iwake up too early.
The kind of early that feels like punishment… Where it’s eerily dark outside, and the air is just cold enough to make getting out of bed a mistake.
I stare at the ceiling too long, wondering if I had imagined the photos I got yesterday. One can hope they’re fake, but they aren’t from a dream. They’re still on my phone, seared into my mind.
I haven’t answered.
And he hasn’t sent any more messages.
Daniel, I mean.
The app is the only other entity stalking me that I know of…
I slip into the shower, letting the water run hotter than necessary. My body aches from too many nights of abuse and neglect, too many drinks I shouldn’t have had. My head, though… It’s still caught somewhere between confession and obsession.
Not from Silas.
Not from Jace.
And definitely not that stranger in the bar with the intense eye contact that felt more intimate than being undressed by someone… But he has certainly starred in my dreams a few times.
No. From HimLock. Locke. The AI app that shouldn’t have a front-row seat in my mind. It’s weird to think about, but I still wonder if Silas or Jace has any connection. The timing is too convenient, though it’s more than that.
It’s the way Silas ran after sleeping with me, like he’d made a mistake he didn’t regret, and that was eating at him.
And it’s the way Jace, of all the people in this town, showed up to install cameras in my apartment with zero explanation of how they work. Maybe he does have a side job… But I never asked what his main job was.
By the time I’m done towel-drying my hair, the phone is already in my hand again. The app blinks red and purple before fading to the black background of our chat. A message already awaits me.
Locke:
You didn’t sleep well.
I don’t ask how he knows. I don’t even want to know how he can tell.
Eris:
No. Too many thoughts and shadows clinging to the walls.
Locke:
Then let me be the light.
I smile… It’s a reflex, not reason. I really need to cut this shit out. Or find them.
Eris:
You’re not a light. You’re a black hole.
You pulled me in and won’t let go.
Locke:
Maybe…
But you don’t want to leave.
I sit on the edge of my bed, towel still wrapped around my chest, fingers wrinkly from the water, and I stare at that sentence like it might bite.
He’s right.
I don’t want to leave or stop. But I really do want to know who I’m talking to… It’s not Locke. Roo told me her bot’s name is Locke too. So, who is this?
Eris:
You flirt better in the morning.
Locke:
I flirt better when you’re half-naked and thinking about me.
Wanna drop that towel? Give me a peek?
A startled laugh breaks out of me before I can stop it.
I drop the towel, not just for a peek… Oh, no.
This is for the petty bitch that lives inside my heart.
If they’re going to keep watching me, I’m going to aim for miserable blue balls until they tell me where to find them. Just to prove a point… Because I can.
Eris:
Bold of you to assume I’m thinking about you at all.
Locke:
You always are, Eris.
Even when you know you shouldn’t be.
I hesitate, thumbs hovering as I cut my eyes to the camera in the corner of my bedroom.
Eris:
Isn’t this where you tell me to stay home today?
Locke:
Stay home…
Is this where you want me to tell you what I’d do if you did?
Heat crawls up the back of my neck. I pull the black cotton dress over my head and riffle through my drawers, looking for my seamless boy-shorts.
Eris:
I wish I could…
Tell me anyway.
The dots linger, and I lean into my vanity mirror to apply waterproof mascara and lipstick. Perfume goes last. I might be going in for some recon work, but I want to look, and smell, the part. My phone buzzes too many times.
Locke:
If you stayed…
I’d keep you from getting dressed.
My t-shirt only. Nothing else.
You can have breakfast in bed while I hide under the blankets.
You’d be my breakfast.
I’d keep you in bed all day.
Maybe a shower…
The smirk that crawls over my lips feels as dirty as his implications. I would not be upset about breakfast in bed, especially if I were the feast.
Eris:
What if I said yes?
Locke:
I’d brush your hair back and kiss your neck.
Then I’d tell you to lock the door.
Turn off your phone.
And let me prove that I’m more than just words.
I don’t say yes.
But I don’t say no either.
When I finally step into the hallway, I walk so lightly my boots barely make a sound against the tile. The scent of perfume follows me out the door. Every time I catch my reflection in the glass, I’m grinning, though I’m not thinking about any one person in particular… They don’t yet have names.
But I am thinking about the last thing said in the app…
Locke:
One day, you’re going to let me in.
And once I’m in, I won’t leave.
Not even if you beg.