Shadowface

Chapter 18

CHAPTER

EIGHTEEN

SUMMER

W hen I get home from the pool and see Dani and Misty’s cars parked out front, I let out a deep sigh. My thoughts are entirely consumed by the whispers of the girls at the pool. As if my evil nature is stamped on me for the world to see.

They saw it…they grasped what he’s turning me into.

I hop out of the rideshare and stare up at my tiny house. My feet suddenly can’t move, and I’m planted outside, hiding beneath water-dipped trees and the glittery night sky, knowing I have to go in there and be normal. I just can’t bring myself to go inside yet.

My chest stings…that hellfire he put in there is burning strong.

Breathe. One. Two. Three.

Before I know it, I’m facing the ground, keeled over.

Breathe, Summer. Precious breath.

Clearly, I am spiraling.

I take a few minutes to compose myself out of the haze. I take one last final breath and walk in, keeping my head down. When I step inside, I immediately lean down, unzipping my knee-high boots and dropping my backpack.

“There you are,” Dani greets me. Her and Misty are eating pizza, and I kick off my boots and walk in. Misty still won’t look at me, and Dani gives me an apologetic look. The air inside this house is suffocating.

“I was just about to text you,” Dani says, hardly paying attention to me. Books are strewn out in front of them.

I smile weakly, averting my gaze from Misty. “I’m fine. I went swimming, then I needed some air.”

“Summer… Seriously, just call me next time. I’ll come grab you. Cali was running in the woods when she went missing, and you don’t want to end up like her, do you?”

I should only be so lucky.

Misty snakes her gaze over me, and I just don’t have it in me to fight with her. Can they see it on my face? The shame of what I am. The product of darkness.

Dani pats the empty barstool beside me. “Why don’t you have some pizza, and I’ll open a bottle of wine. And you two can talk; I’m sick of the tension between you two.”

Swallowing my pride, I head over and slide onto the stool. “I’m sorry. I can be mean sometimes. I don’t hate you, Misty.”

She runs her hand through her hair. “It’s fine. Let’s have some fun. I’m sick of the tension, too.” She’s probably forgiving me because she knows Dani won’t relent until we make up.

We have a couple drinks, relax, and try to have fun.

It’s…robotic. Typical. Boring. And I end up having one too many drinks.

“Are you okay, Summer?” Dani asks me as the three of us finish a game of cards.

I keep staring at my phone as if that will make a difference. As if it will make him call me. I fake a yawn. “Yeah, I’m just…tired.”

I excuse myself and head to my room, change into my camisole and shorts, open my window, and crawl into bed. Picking up my phone, I scroll to the last message I sent SF.

I asked him not to contact me, and he listened. And his silence lands like a gut punch, which I can’t help but think is what he intended.

I click on the message and start typing, knowing I will completely regret this decision. The couple glasses of wine are clearly clouding my judgment. But the heat in my blood doesn’t want to simmer, even as the cool breeze from outside pebbles my skin.

Why the fuck do I miss him so much? I don’t even know him.

Summer: Hi…

It’s a while before he reads my message. I place my phone down and lean my head back as my stomach shifts into full-blown anxiety.

He doesn’t want me anymore.

Then, he has the decency to respond.

SF: What do you want, Summer?

What do I want?

I pause for a moment, not actually expecting him to respond, let alone respond like that. This man stuck his fingers inside me. He ripped into my skin with the heated edge of a razor, and now he’s asking what I want ?

Summer: I want help… You told me you’d help me study.

Truth. All truth… I just have to ignore the burning in my core.

Again, he doesn’t respond right away. A few minutes tick by, and I start into my textbook. The words are not quite registering. When I look at my phone, I find the last message wasn’t even read. Finally?—

SF: You’re such a good liar, aren’t you?

Fuck him. I’m not a liar.

Summer: So that’s it, then?

SF: That’s it…unless you can tell me what you really want. You told me numerous times, and not politely, to leave you alone…so I did.

I bite my lip and shift, waiting for his response. Trying to imagine Lincoln on the other end of the line, where he is right now and what he’s doing.

Summer: That’s not what I want.

He responds quickly this time.

SF: Much better. So, what do you want, exactly? Be clear, because I have things to do.

I read those words and scroll over to his message on his assignment.

Much better… Just like he left on my paper.

He’s leaving me so many clues.

I can’t fathom the person texting me is the well spoken and kind TA I met. But all the evidence is pointing toward it.

Without thinking, I press the call button.

He answers immediately.

“Shouldn’t you be studying?” I close my eyes, appreciating his voice. So deep, sexy, and familiar. It kills me hearing it again. I find it even more concerning that I miss him so much, especially considering the fact that he is, or at least was, stalking me.

I shut my computer down and move to my bed, positioning myself over the covers. “That’s the thing,” I tell him. “I am trying. I just can’t understand it.” I spent all week trying to comprehend the material.

A silent pause. “What part are you struggling with?”

I bite my lip as tears threaten to burn the backs of my eyes.

“Be honest with me, Summer. What aren’t you connecting with?”

Cognitive vs. Operant Conditioning —Dr. Kevin Landry. Every theory, every thought grounded in research.

How scared were those girls before my father cut their eyes out? Lincoln knows who wrote the words I am expected to internalize. Is this why he’s targeting me? It would make sense if my father killed his mother.

“I just…I need to talk it through with someone.”

“And why should I do that? What’s in it for me?” His voice has shifted. Bored. Indifferent.

I pull my knees up. “Because you told me you would?”

Another pause.

“I have to go, Summer.”

No. No. No.

“Wait!” I cry out before he hangs up.

Silence. He’s waiting for me to say something.

“How do I know you’re real?”

A dark pause. “I’m not sure I follow.”

“Prove to me you’re a real killer.”

Why the fuck would I ask him that? I am losing my grip on reality.

I stare at the wall, listening to his breathing on the other line as my heart beats blistering fast. A few agonizing seconds pass before a message comes through, and I swipe on it.

My heart nearly stops at the sight in front of me as I stare at a photo of the missing girl, Cali. Intense jealousy burns in my blood staring at her bound hands, her clothes half ripped off. Her eyes are open, staring into the camera. Fear bleeding out of her eyes…open eyes.

She’s alive.

I blink at it twice, and I don’t even recognize my voice as I speak to him. “I should go to the police.”

His voice is deadly. Calm. Quiet. “But you won’t, will you, Summer?”

I don’t respond.

Without thinking, I move my hair down over my shoulders so it’s splayed out in pretty waves over my chest and take my shorts off so I’m in my panties. I reach into my purse and grab my pink lipstick, then grab my phone and bring up the video so I can see myself. I spread it evenly over my lips, making a popping sound when I’m done.

Before pressing the video button, I position myself a certain way. He answers, and my face pops up on the camera, but of course, he has no video on.

I smile into the camera, knowing I won. Now that he can see me, there is no way he will let me go.

“Hi,” I breathe.

A pause, just heavy breathing in the way he usually does when he is turned on by me. “Well, don’t you look nice.”

No pretty girl?

My thighs heat—no, not my thighs…my entire body ignites.

“Don’t I get to see you?” I ask him, propping the camera up as I lie on my pillow, my hair splaying out beside me, my cleavage pushing up in my tank top.

“I thought you told me to leave you alone?” he says.

I look up at him through my long eyelashes, hoping it has the desired effect. “I changed my mind. I think I need your help, and you promised you would help me. It’s easier when I have someone to talk to about this. It’s how I learn; I don’t retain anything while reading.”

He swallows. “You still want my help? Even knowing what I am?”

I’m not so sure I know what he is. He hasn’t killed anyone that I’m aware of…yet. He sent me a picture of the missing girl, who seems very much still alive.

“Yes, I want your help,” I repeat back to him. “Do you want me to beg?”

“And what are you going to do for me? This arrangement feels one-sided.”

I arrange my camera on the tripod on my desk, which conveniently sits across from my bed. I hear Misty and Dani laughing from downstairs. They could easily walk in on me.

That makes the thrill of this so much more fun.

I rise to my knees, the soft bedding tickling my skin. “Are you still watching me?” I ask, suddenly very self-conscious about what I plan to do.

“Yeah, baby, I’m still watching.”

I sit cross-legged and look into the camera. “I want to see you,” I tell him. “Turn your camera on, too.”

I hear him breathe. I can only imagine what he’s doing right now.

“Please,” I whisper.

“Okay, hold on.” I adjust myself again as he puts the call on hold.

A few seconds later, the video pops up, and he’s there, wearing his burlap mask, which makes me want to scream. He’s leaning back on the bed with his hands behind his head, his arm muscles flexing in his black T-shirt. In fact, he looks mighty fucking relaxed.

“So, what game are we playing right now?” he asks through the blank darkness.

I reach down and pull off my camisole, leaving me topless. He tilts his head as I rise to my knees, the same way the girls in the photo are positioned.

“Is this what you wanted to see?” I breathe and flip my hair, quite unsure what I am supposed to do with my hands. I lean back on them, spreading my legs slightly.

He chuckles, and not in a way I like. I perch up and frown. “You’ve been asking to see me like this all semester. Isn’t this what you want?”

“You have no idea what I want from you, Summer.”

“I can guess.”

“No, baby. You can’t.”

I pause and wrap my arms around myself as a cool breeze hits from outside, causing my nipples to harden like rocks. “Do you want me to stop?”

He leans back even further, his hand finding the hem of his trousers. “I never said that.”

It’s too late. He ruined it… Clearly, he’s moved on. I flash my gaze downward.

“Keep going,” he presses. “You have my attention.”

I find his gaze again. His head is tilted, and he’s leaning forward as if wanting to get a better view of me.

My tongue runs along my bottom lip and my heart is simply purring. “Okay,” I say, running my hand down my stomach, playing with the hem of my panty line, mirroring his movement.

A dirty little game we play.

My fingers linger on the blistered X, and I pause. “Do you remember the night you fucked me?” I ask him outright, keeping my eyes down on the mark of death.

No more pretending he hasn’t been in my life for a long time. He doesn’t respond immediately like I thought he would. In fact, he doesn’t respond at all.

For a moment, I worry I have this all wrong. That it wasn’t him; that perhaps it was someone else, or another version of him entirely.

Finally, he says, “Yeah, I remember.”

I instantly relax. “You told me the next time you saw me you’d kill me.” Just the parting words every young girl wants to hear from the man who deflowered her.

He tilts his head again, and this time, I can see him smile. “Yeah, I suppose I did.”

I return his smile. “Well, you lied. Because I’m still breathing.”

I’m taunting him so deliciously.

“We can change that any time you want, baby.” My body vibrates at the thought.

I hitch a breath and run the finger over the X. “Are you going to kill me? That’s what this mark means, doesn’t it?”

He shifts. “I haven’t decided what I’m going to do with you yet. I don’t want you looking so composed. Relax, Summer. This isn’t one of your pageants, and I don’t give a fuck about sophistication. Let it go, baby.”

I sit back on my knees. “What are you going to make me do right now?” I ask him as my hands run over my stomach. Every nerve is shaking.

He smiles wickedly through his burlap, his legs lazy in front of him. “The thing is, I’m not going to make you do anything. I want to see what you will do all on your own.”

My pussy is so wet; if he were here, he would be able to smell it. Closing my eyes, I can still feel the warmth of his body pressed so close to mine.

That body?—

I try not to think of how fucked up this is, or how crazy I am for doing this.

“You’re not recording me, are you?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “No. I’m keeping you all to myself.”

I start by running my fingers over my breast, my nipples so hard and tight.

“I’m so fucking horny,” I breathe. “Why are you doing this to me? It’s like you’re inside my head.”

“Because I am inside your head, Summer.”

Why does his voice have to be so sexy?

The pressure inside is mounting as I keep my fingers on the swell of my breast and slide my other hand down my panty line. My fingers slip inside, and I stroke my folds. A small moan pours out of me as soon as my vision catches sight of that mask again and the hushed shadows that surround him.

I close my eyes and enjoy my fingers, wishing they were his. I add another finger and arch my back and play with myself for a few minutes, forgetting everything.

My eyes open in a haze and he’s still watching me, but I can’t see his facial expressions. To me, he looks…indifferent.

“Do you like that?” I ask him, out of breath.

“It’s a good start,” he says in a low voice.

I part my lips and lean back on one hand, spreading my legs for him so he can watch everything. I can hear my wetness as my fingers stroke in and out as my orgasm builds. Knowing he’s watching helps get me off, and it’s not long before my insides are exploding.

I add in another finger and shove it inside myself. “I wish you were here to do this for me.” My breath is ragged, my voice comes out stuttered.

“Trust me, Summer, you really don’t want that. It’s probably best for both of us if I keep my distance from you.”

And there lies the truth of the matter.

What if I want to be his next victim? Why else would I be doing this?

Fuck. I’m catering to a psychopath.

Someone knocks on the door. “Summer?”

Shit! It’s Dani, and I didn’t lock my door.

“Should we invite her in to watch, too?”

I glance over at the door. “Sorry, I’m just studying,” I call out to her, hoping she takes the hint and goes away.

I hear a muffled pause. “No worries. I was just checking on you. I’m going to bed.”

My fingers are still pressed to my clit. I deepen my breath, waiting for her footsteps to echo down the staircase.

Finally, the stairs creak and I hear her bedroom door shut on the floor below.

I glance back at the camera. “I think…I think I’m done,” I whisper, pulling my hands out and curling my knees up.

He shifts, still looking so composed compared to me. “We can be done tonight if that’s what you want,” he says, and I raise my eyes to meet his across the screen. He’s still watching me, studying me. “But I promise you, Summer, we are far from done .”

I pull my blanket over my body, covering myself from him, but keep the camera on. I reach over and grab my textbook and lean my head against my headboard, opening the book.

This week’s topic—Cognitive vs. Operant Conditioning, an introduction to developmental psychology.

Maybe I will learn why I’m so dysfunctional.

“Will…will you still help me?” I ask him.

He reaches for his phone and flips off his camera, and my heart sinks. “Yeah, I’ll still help you, but I won’t make you look at this creepy mask while I do it.”

I giggle at that comment, at how normal he sounds.

“I have to read this tonight,” I tell him, “or I am going to fall behind.”

His keyboard clicking echoes out of the phone. “When you’re ready to talk about it, I’ll be here.”

My eyebrows furrow. “So you’re just going to watch me read?”

“No. I’m going to work on my stuff while you read.”

I let out a sigh and start reading through the first few paragraphs, fully aware he’s watching me, even though he says he isn’t.

My eyes rise. “I don’t find you that scary, you know.”

“You will…”

My eyes crinkle. “I will, what?”

“Eventually, you will be scared of me. I have no control when I’m near you. There is a strong possibility that beating heart of yours would cease to exist if I were near you right now. Especially the way you just positioned yourself like that.”

My mouth gapes open.

“Now get to reading. That chapter shouldn’t take you more than twenty minutes. When you’re finished, we can chat through the concepts. And when we are done, you’re going to keep this camera on so I can watch you sleep.”

Goosebumps form on my arms as a tremble runs through me. And I am fully aware now of the full evil residing on the other side of that screen.

I roll onto my side and let him watch, taking my time to read every word, hyper-aware of his clicking. Eventually, I ignore him and start to absorb it all. Once I’m done, he’s still there as promised, and we talk through each concept, focusing on the basic psychological theory of operant conditioning.

“I don’t understand the difference,” I finally admit after ten minutes of trying to explain it back to him. “I mean, I get what you’re saying… I’m just not sure how it’s different, if that makes any sense.”

His level of patience is astounding, and I forget what he is and let him help me, like he said he wanted to.

“It’s simple. Why did you take off your clothes earlier?”

Why did I do that?

I swallow a lump in my throat. “Because I wanted your attention.”

“And it worked, didn’t it?”

“I suppose, yes.”

“Are you going to make me wait next time I ask?”

I blink, wondering what next time he’s referring to.

“I’ll do whatever you ask, when you ask.”

“And I will reinforce that behavior by praising you. Now, let’s think about this another way entirely. You were jealous when you saw a photo of another girl, weren’t you?”

My jaw ticks.

“Answer me, Summer.”

“Yes,” I admit.

“You realized you’re not the only pretty blonde on campus, and that my affections are easily replaced. You did that by observing and gaining a better understanding of me. So you took your clothes off without the expectation that I’d help you. You did that all on your own, with no force or reinforcement. That ah-ha moment you had was a cognitive leap forward, and you gained a deeper understanding of yourself.”

“I…I’m not following you.”

“You realized that you wanted my affections and missed them. You crave me watching you. You like to be looked at, Summer, so you took your clothes off for a total stranger. That is quite the insight about yourself and your understanding of how badly I wanted to see you like that.”

Everything clicks, the concepts and my understanding of it.

I bring my fingers to my lips, keeping my eyes on the textbook, realizing everything he’s saying makes total sense.

Perhaps my naughty behavior isn’t because of anything being inherently wrong with me. That I enjoy being looked at because it pleases others to look at me. A strange man just got me to strip down and give him a show. And it was more, so much more, than only wanting his help.

I’m hyper motivated to write now, so I open a new Word doc and get ready to type.

“You’re wrong, you know,” I say without looking up from my computer.

“What am I wrong about?”

“You’re not a total stranger. I know exactly who you are, Lincoln.”

He doesn’t respond, but I hear him clicking away on his computer.