Chapter 4
Emerson
I woke up the other morning alone which isn’t a surprise. Most of the men leave sometime during the night, but that night was amazing from the bits and pieces I can remember. Whoever he was had a cock made for a God, and he knew exactly how to use it. I was sore the whole day, in a good way.
I make my cup of coffee and walk over to sit down at the table and admire the flowers sent again this morning. Every few days, I have received a bouquet, although I have no idea who they’re from. The card never says and the delivery man never knows.
They are beautiful, which is why I keep them, although I know I should probably throw them out. That isn’t the only thing I’ve been receiving, either. Cards. I’ve been receiving cards, too. They’re strange. They’re all numbered and counting backward from thirty. I have no idea what they mean, who would send them, or why for that matter. Just like today, I got one that says twenty on it. I don’t know what it means, and maybe they aren’t meant for me. Maybe there was a mistake with the address, I don’t know. Either way, I toss them in a pile on the counter and move on with my day.
What’s on the agenda today? I don’t really know. I flip through the rest of my mail when I come across an unmarked envelope. I set the other mail to the side, and rip this one open to examine the contents.
A black credit card with no name falls onto the table.
“What the hell?” I mumble to myself. I pick it up and flip it over before unfolding the piece of paper that was in the envelope with it.
“Your finances aren’t secure anymore. I’m looking into it. Use this for all future purchases, and I mean all,” I read out loud. What the hell does that mean? My finances aren’t secure? How would anyone know that?
I grab my phone and pull up my credit cards and accounts to check on things, and my mouth falls open.
“What the hell is going on?” I say as I look at the screen. My credit cards are all blocked. My bank account appears to be frozen. I waste no time in calling the bank and all the credit card companies to verify what I’m seeing and I get the same answer every single time.
There’s fraudulent activity on your account, and until we can investigate, your accounts are all locked. I sit in here in utter disbelief. How the hell could this happen?
I dial Brandon and cringe at the thought of talking to his ass again, but I have to make rent this week.
“We broke up, Emerson.” That’s it. That’s the greeting I get from the douche.
“I need a favor,” I tell him.
“What is it?”
“I need to borrow some money. Somehow, all my accounts are locked and frozen due to fraud.” He laughs. The fucker actually laughs into the phone.
“No shit? Who did you fuck over now?” he asks. The reason he broke up with me was because he couldn’t fulfill me. He wasn’t about having sex on the daily, and I also cheated on him, which was reason enough in itself. He couldn’t keep up, and that wasn’t my fault.
“No one. I honestly don’t know what’s going on,” I tell him, exasperated by this whole thing.
“Sorry. We’re not together, Emerson. And honestly, why would you ask me?”
“Why not? I thought you actually cared about me at one point.” He sighs into the line.
“I did, Emerson. Listen, I would but I can’t right now. I’m sorry.” The line goes dead as I pull the phone away from my ear and sit back, looking at the black screen. I could ask Sandra, my friend, but we aren’t really friends like that. In fact, I don’t have many friends who are actually friends, if you know what I mean.
I pick up the black card and flip it in my fingers for a few minutes. Whoever sent it obviously doesn’t care if I use it. I mean, they told me to use it. So, what could it hurt?
I sigh heavily, stand from the chair, and walk into my room, where I flip the light on and tug my shirt over my head. I toss it to the side before walking over and dropping onto my bed in just my shorts and bra when a chill runs through me. My eyes instantly jerk to the window, thinking someone is out there, but my backyard is fenced in, and I can typically hear when the gate is opened. Great, now I’m fucking paranoid on top of everything else.
I drop back onto the bed and groan. Why does my life have to be such a fuck up? Why can’t anything go my way?
I roll over, face the wall, and close my eyes, trying to drown out the noise in my head, but it isn’t working, so I reach for the controller and flip the TV on. It doesn’t matter what’s on as long as there is some kind of noise in the room. I keep my eyes closed tightly and damn near beg sleep to take me under. When it doesn’t work, I roll back and prop myself up on the pillows and watch the TV.
Something outside piques my interest, and I push off the bed and walk to the window, looking out, except I don’t see anything. I keep glancing around when I see what looks like a lit cigarette lying in the grass.
“Little fucking shits,” I mouth. The kids next door must have gotten caught smoking again and tossed it into my yard. Shaking my head, I pull the curtain closed and climb back in bed, watching TV until sleep finally takes me under.