Chapter Five
Sailor
I click the button on the side of my phone the moment the message goes through.
I want to take it back.
Hell, I wish I could.
But there’s no way to do that in the app, so I shouldn’t have sent it at all.
What the hell am I doing asking questions like that? To a stranger. To someone on a gaming app. I don’t know who this person is.
I’m going to be sick.
I cover my face with my hands and take a few slow breaths. After a moment, I reach for the switch by the bed and flip it on. The ceiling fan starts to rotate, and soon there is a soft breeze helping me relax.
This isn’t the end of the world.
It’s not. It’s just stupid stuff on the internet. People do it all the time. I could block him and move on, never talk to him again, and it won’t be a problem.
But I shouldn’t be doing it.
Not again. Not so soon. Not after the way things ended last time.
Or haven’t ended… because I can’t stop thinking about him, which is why I’m doing this in the first place. I have a problem. A serious problem. I need help.
Maybe I should tell Sam. Maybe I should tell Amelia.
I need to tell someone. I need someone to set my head straight and tell me how stupid I’m being.
That seems like a good idea. Getting this off my chest will help, right?
Isn’t that what everyone says? Isn’t that how therapists make a living in the first place?
Listening to people’s problems and telling them how to fix it?
I stare down at my phone that’s resting screen-down on my chest. I so badly want to pick it up and look for a therapist, but if I do that, there may be a message waiting for me.
No, there is a message waiting for me because I felt the vibration.
I could delete it. Not just the message, but the entire account. It’s new. I could make another one…
But another part of me, that dark part, really wants to know what his response is.
And it’s not that it matters. It’s just an answer. Just words. Just because I asked, and he could say yes, doesn’t mean it’ll happen.
This isn’t like before. This is pretend. It’s the internet; it’s anonymous. It doesn’t have to be real.
A thud from the living room pulls my attention, and I remember Sam is out there.
Sam. Who I was also just pretending with once upon a time. He was just the internet at one point. Someone I never thought I would meet, yet, here he is… here we are.
I am a mess.
Staring at my phone, I war with myself. It’s all I’ve done lately. Fight my true self, fight these cravings, and for what? Fear. Paranoia. Confusion.
But I don’t fear what Jaxon and I did. I’m not paranoid about that, or confused about it either. It has nothing to do with being afraid of what we did together. The mask. The chasing. The breaking and entering. The fucking in closets. In the library. The not knowing.
It’s none of that. I could have been fine with all of that. Hell, I would have been. I still crave it, if I’m being honest.
No, what’s stopping me is him. What he did to Mindy. The fact he was able to do it at all and not bat an eye. He got into the car with me seconds after, and you’d never know he just killed someone. My fear is what he’s capable of and how I could be next.
So, I pick up my phone and click the button to wake the screen because I am not the problem here. What I am into sexually is not the problem.
Jaxon is the problem. And this guy I’m talking to on the internet is not Jaxon.
I just have to remind myself of that.
When I open the app, I find a stack of messages. I hold my breath as I read them.
LMCYTTWACYAGG: Fuck. Yes.
LMCYTTWACYAGG: I’ll wear a mask too.
LMCYTTWACYAGG: Chase you until you can’t run anymore. Then I’ll catch you and give you exactly what you want.
LMCYTTWACYAGG: Except I want you to beg for it first. I want to hear you pleading for me to give you what you want.
My heart is pounding, threatening to burst right out of my rib cage.
How can this guy that I randomly met be into this too? Is it really so common? Is it really so easy to find someone who will do this? Maybe moving on won’t be so difficult after all.
Of course, the little voice in the back of my head tells me this is a bad idea, that I don’t know this person either, and if we go along with this, they could be just as bad, or maybe worse, than Jaxon.
But I tell that voice to shut up because I don’t plan on doing this for real.
I’m not going to meet with this guy the way I did with Jaxon, so he can chase me through the woods, throw me down, and fuck me.
There aren’t even any woods over here. We’re in a populated area, and I have no idea where the hell I am.
At least at home, I was familiar with the area. I’d lived there my whole life.
Maybe I should just get a big scary dog and move back home. A giant Rottweiler or German Shepard who will keep me and my house safe.
I re-read the messages again, trying to decide how to answer.
I glance at the time on my phone before I do anything.
It’s late. I should get to sleep. Sam and I are going out tomorrow, and if I bail on him, he’s going to get upset.
I don’t need him more upset because then he gets weird. Well, weirder than usual.
Golden_Phoenix: That sounds perfect. It’s exactly what I crave.
Golden_Phoenix: And I’m sorry, but can we finish this conversation another time? I really need to get to bed.
LMCYTTWACYAGG: Are you sure I didn’t scare you away?
Golden_Phoenix: Trust me. I am not scared of a little primal play.
LMCYTTWACYAGG: Good. Because it’s my favorite. Except…
Golden_Phoenix: Except what?
LMCYTTWACYAGG: Do you know what would be even better?
Golden_Phoenix: What??
LMCYTTWACYAGG: Sneaking into your house and fucking you in the middle of the night with your roommate in the other room.
Oh my god…
I think I just found the man of my dreams.
I keep staring at the line of text, visions running through my head. I told him I needed to go, yet we’re still talking. And I keep scrolling back up to read that line over and over again.
Sneaking into your house and fucking you in the middle of the night with your roommate in the other room.
It’s official. I’ve lost my mind. I’m depraved. There is something wrong with me.
With a huff, I close out of the app and open my texts. It’s late, and I’m sure Amelia is already asleep, but I text her anyway.
Me: Hey, just checking in. Sorry, I know it’s late and you’re probably sleeping. I’m also sorry for not texting more often, I’m just dealing with a lot. Please don’t hate me.
I need sleep. But I also need to clear my head. I need someone to talk to. I need to know that my thoughts, my cravings, aren’t wrong.
It’s dangerous what I’m doing. I know that.
It was dangerous when I did it with Jaxon, and I’m now moving into that same territory again with this guy—this random person.
I don’t even know him, and I’m imagining him breaking in here in the middle of the night, tying up Sam, and forcing his way into my bed.
I don’t even know him.
I only met him today.
Popping back into the Solar Surge app, I type out another text to say that I really need to go to sleep. But before I send it, I send something else first.
Golden_Phoenix: What should I call you?
LMCYTTWACYAGG: Just call me Shadow.
Golden_Phoenix: Okay, Shadow. Do you want my name in return?
LMCYTTWACYAGG: No thanks.
My brow furrows as I stare at the screen, not understanding his response. It was a yes or no question, but I didn’t expect the answer to be no. His next message comes in before I realize what’s happening, and all I can do is smile.
LMCYTTWACYAGG: I’ll just call you mine.