Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
VIOLET
I can’t sleep. And I’m going to be a wreck at work today.
You might by the time I finish with you.
Ghost’s last text continues to taunt and tease me, like perfume on a breeze trailing after the wearer.
A wearer I think I want to know.
I swallow.
A shiver of dread-coated anticipation slices through me. Not dread like he’ll hurt me, but dread…like he might take me to dark places I never knew existed.
Or maybe he means he’ll hurt you. After all, he said he’d do that if I wanted him to.
What would he do? What dark, erotic plans are in his head?
I’m aware some people get off on pain, others get off on giving it.
I don’t think I’m a pain junkie. I prod carefully inside, feeling around, but no, the idea of physical pain remains as it always has been, something I’d rather avoid.
But what about pushing me past my limits? Toys? There are things that are pleasure-pain, right? And not all things regarding hurt have to do with the physical.
Ghost’s willing to take me to all the places down below the surface, to explore all the parts of me. To make me drown in him and turn me into his plaything.
Maybe that’s what he means by regret and hurt. Leaving me as someone different from what I was at the beginning.
God. Why does it turn me on so much? Because I’m pretty fucking sure I’m wet.
My insides pulse with a need I can’t explain, and I’m tempted to reach down and use my fingers.
For some reason, I don’t.
I want to be ready to burst when he touches me.
All of it terrifies me as much as it intrigues me. As much as it makes me drip.
I’m aware what I’m doing is dangerous.
This is something I want to do with a stranger, someone I’ve never met, a man who could be anything or anyone.
He might be dangerous.
Ghost’s a hacker who claims he won’t delve into my personal space, but how can I believe that?
I have a hard enough time believing that Cade won’t try to poke into areas he shouldn’t, too.
So, a world-class hacker? Someone who can find out anything about anyone and does? Who’s to say he’s telling me the truth?
He’s got all the advantages.
I have none.
Even Cade… But I shiver, the name warming something inside. No, Cade could, but he wouldn’t. He’s a good man.
The hacker?
Not so much.
And I know I shouldn’t trust him, shouldn’t have been so quick to text him back, but…I couldn’t help it.
He asked me to trust myself, check in with my gut. And I sort of lied. Stretched it. Because my gut tells me he won’t hurt me. It doesn’t say he’s a good guy, but it’s been saying emphatically that I can trust him not to hurt me or do anything past what I want since I texted him.
Then again, this is the very same gut that let me stick it out with Jack for way too long.
Only is that fair? Didn’t I know deep down Jack and I had been going on too long, and it needed to end?
I flop down and obsessively read over the messages, then I use my phone to try and see if The Ghost has done anything else since Isaac.
But nothing pops up.
With a sigh, I try to fall back to sleep.
It’s creeping toward five when my phone rings, and Jack’s name appears.
The hour’s so late or early, depending on how you look at it, that I panic and hit answer.
Jack never calls at this hour.
Never.
“Jack?”
“Oh, my god, Vi, don’t hang up! Please! I need help.” Jack sounds more panicked than I’ve ever heard him.
“Are you all right?”
There’s a pause. “I’m fine. I guess, but I need money.”
“You…” I stare at my phone for a moment. “You need money. I’m hanging up now. Do you know what time it is here? It’s—”
“Please, Vi, please. Just help me out, spot me some cash.”
“If you gambled everything away—”
“I didn’t.” He takes deep, audible breaths. “My cards have been canceled, and my accounts frozen. I… Vi, there’s been a bunch of charges added to my bill I know nothing about. Clothes, entertainment, room service.”
Clothes. Of course, Jack would leave without packing. And I can just imagine the kind of entertainment he’s talking about.
It might be over, but it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt, and my chest tightens a little.
We were together three years, and all I’m worth is a forgotten anniversary and being a human ATM and crisis averter.
Not exactly something a girl aspires to.
“Entertainment,” I mutter.
“I did not order the Gentleman’s Special. And the guys didn’t either. Someone’s got my room mixed up with someone else—”
I snort. “The Gentleman’s… No. I don’t want to know.” I grip the phone. “Do you really think I’ll help you?”
“You should. After the way I took care of your dumb boss for you.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I don’t bother hiding the irritation.
“I’m surprised you didn’t figure it out earlier. What do you think I do all day?”
“Nothing, Jack. You smoke pot, eat pizza, work out, and play computer games. I’m shocked you haven’t found a way to do them all at the same time.”
“So, you haven’t figured it out? I’m the hacker, Vi.”
“Bullshit.”
“Vi—”
I hang up on him because I can’t.
I’m not bailing him out, and if I stay on the line longer, I know I will. He’s got friends, Cade, he’s fine. And if it was some weird Jack ploy to try to weasel his way back in, it’s not going to work.
The hacker.
As if…
But his accounts are frozen? All those strange charges and the rest?
He might not be the hacker, but everything happening to Jack sure sounds like the hallmarks of The Ghost.
I shiver.
Is he behind Jack’s issues?
But that’s crazy… Isn’t it?
How would The Ghost know who Jack is?
Now sleep’s completely a distant memory because no matter how I try to explain it all away, I can’t. There’s just too much coincidence for Jack’s sudden misfortune and my contact with The Ghost not to be connected.
Me
Are you the one behind all of Jack’s sudden issues.
Ghost
Mr. Maddox feeling a little…trapped?
Me
It was you!
Ghost
Never said that, but sometimes punishment fits crimes. And ex-boyfriends need to learn manners.
I’m about to tell him to stop screwing with Jack and let him have his money back so I don’t have to end up paying for a ticket…or poor Cade…when I stop.
Me
How do you even know who Jack is? I never told you.
I was very careful not to mention names.
But this means he knows mine.
I suck in a breath.
Ghost
Come on, you’re doing me a disservice by underestimating me.
Me
You said you wouldn’t pry.
Ghost
It isn’t prying, not really. It wasn’t hard to figure out, and everything I could possibly want to know about anyone is at the tip of my fingers.
Including you. Violet.
Does that scare you?
Every muscle goes tense, and I stare at my phone, fingertips white as I hold it.
He promised he wouldn’t invade my privacy, but he has.
Me
Considering you lied about digging into me, yes. It does scare me a little.
Ghost
But apparently, not enough to stop you texting me.
Me
Is that your mission? To make me stop? To scare me away?
He doesn’t answer that.
Ghost
Just like my comment earlier wasn’t enough to knock sense into you.
I shouldn’t find it hot he can find me if he wants, or maybe he’s looking at my address, my street, my apartment building, right now.
He’s right, it should have knocked sense into me. Maybe it hasn’t been long enough. I didn’t even last more than a few hours in texting him back.
What I should be doing is calling him a stalker.
He not only found out my name and probably everything else about me in moments, but he also found out Jack’s name and cut him off and punished him, Ghost style.
A man who can do that, what else can he do? To me? What kind of games could he play, could he tangle me into?
I shiver because my head goes to my being chased down and fucked when caught scenario, a favorite. It’s one where the man hunts me, chases me, and it’s frightening, thrilling, sexually charged.
And I just want to be caught and escape, all at the same time.
When he catches me, he punishes me with kisses, touches, and I get free, enraging him more. This time, when he drags me up against him, he’s incensed, rips off my clothes, fucks me brutally and in a way that’s searing hot, beyond satisfying and leaves me naked, defiled, begging for more.
The fantasy pulsates through me.
It could be in a bathroom in a bar, in the back of a dance club, outside against a wall. In an alley, me on my hands and knees and him plowing into me, both holes, with enraged abandon.
It could be anywhere.
I like the dirtiness of the being shared scenario just because it’s pure fantasy. I don’t really want that, and it drops down into a vague thought now, because unless there is more than one of him, I definitely don’t even want it as a fantasy.
Every dirty scenario my head can throw up, I want him, The Ghost, to star in, front and center.
Ghost
How far are you willing to go for your fantasies to come true? Do you want to spin tales of them or make them happen?
Me
Do I want to just keep them in my head or make them real?
Ghost
Yes.
I know the answer, but I think of how to put it. In the end, I go for what I hope is nuanced honesty.
Me
They’ve been in my head so long I’ve been happy keeping them there. But I think I want to make them real.
Ghost
Think?
Me
Know. I want to experience them.
With him. I want it with him.
A man I’ve never met.
Me
I actively want this, and I’d like to try it with the right person. But I have no idea how to make it happen.
I let out a breath as I press send.
And I wait.
Wait some more.
But The Ghost doesn’t respond.
I roll out of bed and shower, starting to get ready for the day. I’m dressed and have a coffee in one hand when I dare to check my phone.
My heart sinks.
He hasn’t replied.
Weirdly, there’s been nothing from Jack, and while it should be something I focus on, I don’t. Jack isn’t my problem. Cade’s probably helping him.
My problem is more consuming.
The Ghost.
Why hasn’t he responded?
My stomach turns.
What if my confession scared him off?
Maybe I was meant to play coy.
Or maybe there is such a thing as revealing too much too soon.