3. Exchange
Exchange
A fter leaving a voicemail for a potential serial killer, I decided it was time for me to put into motion my contingency plan to keep from becoming another murder victim. I headed toward the Rideau Center, hoping Martin worked today; I needed his help more than ever.
The cool air hit me like a ton of bricks, and I shivered as my sweaty skin turned icy. I rubbed my arms as I followed the crowd of people coming off a bus, keeping up with the pace of the busy city life.
Having grown up in a small town just on the other side of the river, it had taken some time to get used to the hustle and bustle of everyday life here. Luckily for me, I was used to stress.
As I approached the computer store, I spotted Martin inside, typing on one of those fancy tablets that would take months of savings to buy. After all, the only money I made was from my job as a teacher’s assistant and the bursaries from my good grades.
“What’s up?” Martin said with a grin as he finished with something on the screen. When he looked at me with his baby blues, his smile vanished. “Whoa... you okay? You’re pale as a ghost.”
“Thanks. You look great, too,” I said sarcastically. “I’m here about the laptop.” Martin was a good friend, and a serial killer toying with me wasn’t something I wanted to drag him into, but I’d run out of choices. “Were you able to finish with it?”
“Yeah, it’s all done. Quite the complex software...” He arched an eyebrow at me as though waiting for an explanation, but when I pressed my lips together, he rolled his eyes. “It’s like that again?”
“Look, you know what my final report is about,” I whispered, leaning forward to make sure no one overheard us. “Can you blame me for being paranoid from time to time?”
“I really wish you weren’t so obsessed with serial killers.” He crouched and, when he straightened, put my laptop on the counter. “Your phone is connected to it as well, as you asked.”
“Perfect.”
He pushed the device aside and leaned his forearms against the white counter. The piercings on his face caught the overhead lights, making them almost glow. “Am I going to get into any type of trouble for this, Jill?”
“No...” When he gave me a look, I repeated the statement with more certainty, “No.” The serial killer didn’t need to know who created the program for me, only that it was the one way that would keep him from just instantly adding me to his victim list.
“You know if this comes back to me and the police ask questions...”
“It’ll be okay.” I forced a smile.
“Usual exchange as agreed, then?” He pushed his bleach blond hair from his face. “I actually have a break coming up in a few minutes.”
My heart beat a bit faster as my cheeks warmed.
It wasn’t the first time I traded a blowjob for free help with computers, but any time we did anything intimate, it just made my crush on him grow deeper.
Even though I knew he’d never go out with me officially since I wasn’t the type of girl he’d date.
I’d seen the ones he was with, and they were always fit and active—the opposite of me.
“I’ll meet you at the usual spot then?”
“Yeah, I’ll finish with the laptop. Wanted to double-check there isn’t any kind of tracking on it.” He bopped my nose playfully before turning his attention back to the device. “I’ll see you in about ten minutes?” he asked, not looking back up at me.
I nodded but added, “Sure.”
Our usual spot.
A washroom for the disabled on the same floor where he worked.
So romantic. It was rarely ever used. A few people went inside to do drugs or even sleep, but that was mostly at night.
During the day, it remained empty save for the occasional sexual acts between me and Martin whenever we were both horny or I needed a favor.
When it was for an exchange, it was always a blowjob.
The first few times, I’d felt so used and dirty afterward, but the more I did it, the less it bothered me.
It wasn’t like when my foster father had forced me to do the same thing.
With Martin, it was different. It was consensual. It was my choice.
Down the long and empty hallway toward the washrooms, I couldn’t help but wonder how I’d gotten to this point in my life.
A blowjob in exchange for safety. A serial killer who knew I was looking into him.
Watching a murder happen through video live.
And yet, I barely felt any of it. Numb to the world despite my one drive: write and publish my report.
I supposed having been the only survivor of a home invasion when I was fifteen years old and watching as my foster parents were killed might have to do with my feelings about my whole situation.
But I’d hoped since starting the program recommended by my social worker that the darkness lingering inside me would’ve vanished by now.
Yet, at the age of twenty-seven, I still didn’t mind the morbid side of death.
On the contrary, I was fascinated by it.
The washroom was empty, as predicted, and I stepped inside.
My pulse still didn’t slow at the whole situation; it still seemed insane the killer had been there, waiting.
How? And why had he killed Patrice? I closed the toilet seat and sat, running my fingers through my hair and gripping it.
Sure, I didn’t mind the subject of death, but having come so close to it only dawned on me then and there.
He would’ve murdered me for sure, right? What else could he want?
At the thought of having my throat sliced open, or drowned, stabbed.
..depending on the card I chose, I shivered.
If I was right about how he worked, he was using four cards, all Jacks, and always left behind a deck of cards at the scene with a missing Jack.
Through research, I’d figured it out and confirmed my suspicions.
It was why his method of killing varied so much; it was determined by the chosen card.
There was a small knock at the door, and I jumped. A small part of me hesitated. What if it was the killer? I scoffed at my imagination but still didn’t unlock it as I approached.
“Occupied,” I called out, not too loud.
“It’s me,” Martin hissed through his teeth. I opened the door, he stepped inside. “What the hell? Usually, the knock is enough.”
“Oh, terribly sorry to inconvenience you,” I said, crossing my arms. “I told you I’m a bit more paranoid than usual. What do you expect?”
“Some logic, maybe?” he said with a scoff. Still, he handed me the laptop.
“Thanks,” I said in a shaky voice as I put the device into my messenger bag.
When I straightened, he gripped the back of my neck and pulled me close. “How much do you appreciate it?” he asked in a low voice.
My pulse quickened faster than the thoughts of murders and serial killers. Martin wanted me. Desired me. Not in public, but in private, at least.
I slowly got down on my knees, the tiles cold against my skin.
They creaked beneath me, but I didn’t care.
None of it mattered except for pleasuring Martin.
My feelings for him only seemed to grow when he looked at me that way.
.. like I was the only woman in the world for him. Even if only in that moment.
Lifting his t-shirt, I took the time to run my hands along his narrow waist, his tight, flat belly hot to the touch.
I undid his jeans, tugging on them until they slid down his long, muscular thighs.
He wasn’t wearing anything beneath, and my panties pooled in warmth at the sight of his growing arousal.
He was already hard for me, and that just made the throbbing between my legs more intense.
I enjoyed being down on the floor this way while he towered over me.
It made him seem more dominant, even if he wasn’t really.
I could picture him grabbing me by the hair and pushing his cock down my throat.
But he never touched me or looked at me while I took him in my mouth. He just closed his eyes and groaned.
Flicking my tongue across the head of his bulging erection, he jerked, his eyes shutting as usual. This time, he caressed the side of my cheek, and that touch alone sent butterflies fluttering through my stomach.
I took him into my mouth, swirling my tongue around his rigid shaft.
Moving my hands along the same rhythm, I slurped and suckled, picturing him fucking me from behind like he did sometimes.
How he’d pounded into me hard and fast, hitting my sensitive spot at just the right angle.
Then again, it wasn’t difficult for me to reach climax; it actually didn’t take much at all.
He let out a shuddering breath, and I knew he was close to orgasm.
I took his erection down my throat, swallowing around it multiple times, doing my best to breathe through my nose despite gagging a few times.
Tears ran down my cheeks as I imagined him holding me in place, hands tied behind my back, taking what was his.
In my imagination, I enjoyed being roughed up.
It was one of the ways I was always able to cum so fast.
Having his erect manhood down my throat hurt, but the pain only heightened my orgasm as an explosion of ecstasy ran down my body.
I moaned against him, then played with his balls, rolling them between my fingers as I sucked harder against his member.
He groaned low, and his hot seed spilled into my mouth, trickling down my throat.
Before I knew it, he helped me to my feet and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. It was awkward, almost as though he’d forced himself to do it. Deflation hit me, but I forced a smile.
“Thanks again for the laptop.”
He pulled his pants back up and buttoned up. “Yeah, no problem. And thanks for...” He cleared his throat, avoiding my gaze. “Thanks.”
And without another word, he left me alone in the washroom.