8. Panic
~ brIDGET ~
My heart was off to the races.
There were a couple comments immediately, but of course it was just the trolls. Then Nate came on in my direct messages.
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***SYSTEM NOTE: CHAT ENCRYPTED END-TO-END. ENSURE ALL ACCOUNTS ARE LOGGED OFF BEFORE DISCONNECTING.***
PurplePeoplEater: Whatcha doin’?
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I chewed on my fingernail. Cain had said no one could know.
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DeadGirlWalking: Just toying with the trolls. I can’t wait to see what conspiracy theory they’ll come up with about what it’s for.
PurplePeoplEater: You’re evil.
DeadGirlWalking: You just noticed? Go to sleep.
---
He sent back a gif of a woman sticking out her tongue, and I didn’t reply.
The post was still up. A handful of trolls were debating whether it was a serial killer’s play box. Only one of them mentioned something about Dom after-care—but he got shot down by the guy who pointed out that the Bible was a buzzkill.
But every time a new comment popped and my computer pinged, my heart rate went through the roof. And then, every time, it was nothing .
I checked Cain’s profile, but it said he was offline.
I chewed on my fingernail for a minute. Then decided, fuck it, and clicked the direct message thread.
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***SYSTEM NOTE: CHAT ENCRYPTED END-TO-END. ENSURE ALL ACCOUNTS ARE LOGGED OFF BEFORE DISCONNECTING.***
DeadGirlWalking: Are you online?
DeadGirlWalking: I posted the picture and it’s all there. Let me know you got it.
DeadGirlWalking: And tell me how long it will be until the hunt. Please?
---
I waited for a few minutes in case he came online, but my blood was humming, and not in the good way. It was as if my veins pumped carbonated water and it was making my entire body swell. Like my skin might burst.
My heel was tapping on the carpet, and I bit the quick of my nail, hissing when it bled and I had to suck on it. But still… I was just sitting there staring at an empty, inactive screen.
And then it hit me. It might be days before he came on, or told me he’d seen it. I couldn’t know.
Then the fizzing in my veins turned to sheer panic.
I really didn’t know.
How long might he wait just to toy with me?
Hours? Days? Weeks?
Since the moment Cain had told me he’d see me, every waking, undistracted thought had been about him, and the hunt, and getting to the place where I knew he was coming. I’d been chasing that rush like an addict after a dealer. Now there was only this one hurdle left.
But it was one I could not affect.
Him.
My breath was short and shallow and my hands were beginning to shake as the dark shadows of my mind started talking, reminding me why we were here, and where this was going, and why I wanted that, and maybe I didn’t need to wait for Cain at all.
Panicking, I quickly logged off and got the computer shut down, then tore out of my office to my room. If I sat here alone, I was going to spiral. I could feel it.
I had been so obsessed with this, I hadn’t even showered today. So the first thing I did was make myself get clean. Then I needed to get dressed.
I didn’t even hesitate.
Skin-tight jeans. Heels. A low-cut, figure hugging top that showed my shoulders and hung off my boobs and made them look bigger. Then I grabbed my phone and wallet, the one with the long shoulder-strap, and practically ran out of the house.
Because if Cain hadn’t seen my post and wasn’t hunting, I needed something to distract me.
And if he had, and he was coming for me, well… it didn’t matter where I was as long as he could find me.
So that meant going somewhere public. But not easily predicted.
And I knew just the place.
The garage door rattled up and I stood in the glaring light of the automatic light for a minute, wondering if those shadows outside already hid him.
He’d said he knew where I lived.
For a minute I forgot about everything except that somewhere in the dark in this world there was a monster who knew my name, and my address, and my car. He was bigger, stronger, fiercer than me. And even though I was going to fight a lot harder than he thought, I also knew the odds.
Eventually, he would win.
And I experienced the strangest sensation at that thought—half of my heart zipping up into my throat, leaping with joy. The other half plunging to my toes and screaming at me to run.
But I didn’t run. I wouldn’t run.
Not until he was there to chase me.
I swallowed hard, staring into the darkness outside my garage. “Are you there, Cain?” I whispered. But there was no answer.
There was nothing but a neighborhood street and a night stretching in front of me that made me want to slit my wrists.
And I wasn’t going to do that. Ever.
And that conviction put wings on my feet, and a jiggling kind of panic in my chest. I darted to get in the car, firing the engine, and tearing out there, praying Cain was on my heels.
Twenty-five minutes later, deep in the city, I made it to the dive bar owned by Kash, my ex-boyfriend. But I didn’t park in that awful lot across the road where most of his patrons left their two-bit dusty, dented rattletraps until they decided to drunk-drive home. Instead, I sailed past, took the next corner, turned up the narrow alleyway behind the building to the cracked cement and dumpsters where the staff parked.
Kash hated it when I did this, but if I decided to drink I needed the car under the security cameras. And not where some drunk would piss on it.
It would make it harder for Cain to find me, too, if he showed up. If he was hunting he wouldn't want to risk getting caught on camera. So he’d have to get more creative about how he was going to intercept me.
I smiled.
And I hoped.
I fucking prayed he showed up tonight.
Then I shook off a new wave of panic, got out of the car, locked it with a bloop, and trotted up the handful of steps to the staff entrance at the back.
When I swung that heavy, industrial door open, the glaring light of the service hallway washed over me and made me squint at the same time the thumping bass, which had been little more than a dull thunder outside, became a pounding that vibrated in my ribs.
And as I hurried forward, towards the noise and distraction, I only cast one look over my shoulder towards the shadows near my car outside.
But nothing moved before the door swung close on its hydraulic hinge.
Cain, where are you?