Chapter 24
Freddie
“Yeah, Ma, I know. I KNOW! I’ve called them twice. Yeah, apparently they chewed through the wall or some shit while I was at home. No… you’re not listening. Ma…MA!”
I was losing the will to live.
After three semi-pleasant months back in Scotland, I was back in my flat and discovered that there had been a rat infestation while I was gone.
Thank fuck, they chewed nothing of importance.
Management took care of the infestation, leaving me only to fix a wall and deep clean the apartment.
My Ma seemed to think the rats were still here and wouldn’t listen to anything I was telling her. Trust issues much?
“Look, Ma, I need to go. The cleaning service is coming, and I’m meeting Craig.
I told you about Craig. I told you when I was home, I will never talk dick sizes with you.
Oh, fucking hell, I won’t text a number to Da either.
I’m hanging up now.” I sigh with relief when I finally get her off the phone.
I love my family, but three months after a long arse time away from them was too much.
I was more than giddy getting back on a plane.
While I wasn’t brokenhearted by what Simmons did to me at the hospital, I was pretty pissed that I had allowed myself to get attached to someone clearly uninterested in anything more than the possibility of getting his dick wet.
He basically ghosted me after a couple of really cool days together.
Thinking there was more to it than there was, I was kicking myself and all too glad for the time back home away from here.
Knowing now that he knew I lived in the same city as him has me worried, though, about bumping into him and having to hear his pathetic excuses about why I’m not ‘right’ for him.
Fuck him, he doesn’t even know me. So what if I flirt and send replicas of my cock to guys I like?
That doesn’t mean I deserved what he did to me.
And to clarify, I have never sent a replica dick to anyone except him.
Which made me feel even more stupid because I thought we had the seeds to grow something.
It was too coincidental that we keep meeting the way we have.
But no, Simmons was just another Dom with a fetish for power.
One who manipulated me even from a hospital bed.
I haven’t heard from him in three long months.
I knew he had read my texts, but he never responded.
Probably because he was too busy laughing at the pathetic goth guy who volunteers and writes a sex blog and is hard to understand.
Not a tanned, cute sub that wants to submit so boringly.
Ones that are probably more to his liking, anyway.
I’d tried so hard not to think of him when I was home.
Instead, I hiked, spent a weekend with old friends in Fort William, and even wrangled Benji into a brunch meet.
He didn’t seem happy to see me, though, and I wondered if he thought I was leaving him behind now that I had money and lived in another country.
But that was so far from it. Benji had seemed withdrawn, almost sad, when we met up.
He wasn’t wearing his usual clothes, and I joked about never seeing him with his arms covered before, but he hadn’t found it funny.
When I asked about his work, he told me he realised it had been disgusting, what he had been engaging in for money, and told me to drop it when I pressed for more information.
I wasn’t sure what was going on with him, but it seemed bigger than just being fed up with an old friend. I had asked my sisters, but as far as they were aware, he was still shacked up with Thomas, happy as ever.
Despite the way he had treated me, I still checked in with Benji every second day.
I didn’t want him to think I'd forgotten about him.
I even sent him pictures of the apartment and my address, telling him he should fly out with Thomas for the week.
I could meet him and we could do some sightseeing, but all I got back was a thumbs-up and a maybe.
Trying not to be World War Me, I decided that if Benji wanted to talk to me, he would in his own time.
Wearing a matching black-and-white striped lounge set, I fling my fluffy slippers on and headed for my mail. It was probably overstuffed with pizza coupons and bills.
“Hi Freddie, happy to be home?” Tim waved at me from his desk. What a cool guy. He wore these over the top suits and had a handlebar moustache that was nearly as white as his hair.
“Am I ever! Just grabbing the mail, then heading out. Did you have a good Christmas?”
“Sure did, that’s me up to eighteen grandkids.”
“Bloody fuck, Tim! Bet your house was packed,” I laugh as I unlock the mailbox and drag it all into my shoulder bag.
“You bet. Just the way I like it. I’m counting on my Jess giving me two more before I go senile,” he tells me with an amused look.
“Well, better Jess than me. I can barely look after myself.”
We part ways, and I get back to my apartment, turning the bag upside down and letting the mail fall all over the sofa and floor.
There’s a small black envelope that’s embossed with a pretty red wax seal.
It stares up at me as I lean down and snatch it from the dusty floor.
Plopping down on the rest of the mail, I carefully open it and take out the stock card inside.
It has a sleek black card stuck to it, like a credit card.
With nothing but gloss black lips on the front of it, I turned it over to read the print on the back.
Nyctra
12 month membership
The Flaming Hot Scot
HOLY FUCKING SHIT. I knew the interview went well, but oh my! On the stock card is a handwritten note from Burt, the owner. Thanking me for my respect and confidentiality, he warmly invites me to join the club for 12 months free of charge.
Burt, you beaut! I kiss the card, then ask my Alexa to play my sexy song playlist. Hold on to your latex panties, Nyctra, there’s a new bratty sub in town.