Chapter 2
The trickling sound of the wine as I pour it into the glass reaches my ears. I stare as the dark red liquid fills the glass a quarter of the way and pause. Fuck it. Filling it to the top, I empty half the bottle into the glass and set it on the counter, leaving it there.
Reik isn’t home. Why would he be?
It’s only Valentine’s Day and our tenth anniversary—well, dating anniversary. Not that he’d ever remember.
Sipping the wine, I barely even taste it.
I’m not here for the flavor. I’m here to drink and forget.
Forget the fact that my husband can’t even bother to be home on our anniversary, forget the fact that I really don’t want to be married to him anymore and I’m so close to pulling the plug on the relationship that I can taste it, and forget the fact that all those sexual fantasies I played out for months have just vanished.
Well, the fantasies haven’t.
But the person I was playing them with has.
Biting my lip, I stare blankly at the kitchen window. The darkness outside feels freeing, not oppressive. You’d think it’d be the other way around.
My phone buzzes on the kitchen counter, startling me out of my reverie. Picking it up, I stare down at the text from my sister wishing me a happy Valentine’s Day. If only she knew. It isn’t happy at all. I respond in kind, as is expected of me, and then flick through my other texts.
The last time Reik texted was the day he left, telling me exactly when he’d be home.
In three more days. Sighing heavily, I leave the phone on the counter and wander upstairs into the guest bedroom, the one that has never been slept in, because no one wants to come here.
No one ever dares enter this wasteland of a house.
God, what has my life become?
I hate it here.
I just want some excitement.
Slipping my hand into the bottom left drawer of the dresser, I wiggle my fingers as I feel around for the phone I stashed there. My fingertips hit the cold plastic, and I pull it out to turn it on.
Nothing.
No messages. No missed calls.
I sit cross-legged on the floor, scrolling through the old texts that we’d sent, through the demands and the desires.
Just who is this person who has managed to steal my every desire and turn it back on me?
I want to know so badly, but at the same time, the mystery is what keeps me alive most nights.
The way I imagine foreign fingers pounding inside my pussy—I close my eyes and shudder at the fantasy I’ve had for years.
For months, with this phone as the only connection we had, I did everything I was ordered and more, and fuck, I loved every second of it.
The crash is loud.
I jerk and face the open doorway to the guest bedroom. My eyes are glued to the hallway as I clutch the phone tightly in my fingertips. It’s probably just the dog knocking the wine bottle off the counter. Wouldn’t be the first time. And she isn’t barking, so it can’t be an intruder.
But my heart pounds in my chest as if it doesn’t understand the logic my brain has, and it’s thumping so hard that it hurts just to breathe. Listening intently, I hear nothing. No one. No dog. Just…silence. Picking up my wine glass, I stand and use my toe to push the dresser drawer shut.
Cleaning up that mess is going to be a pain in the ass, but at least it’s on the tiled floor. I hit the light as I leave the room and step into the hallway. A chill runs up my spine and down my arms, rippling goosebumps in its wake. I frown as I reach the top of the stairs and freeze.
A figure, dressed in all black and covered head to toe, stops halfway up the stairs, staring at me.
Their face is covered in a black leather mask, and all I can see are dark brown eyes glued to me.
We’re both frozen on the spot, staring wide-eyed at each other as if this isn’t supposed to be happening.
And it isn’t.
I grip the phone tightly in one hand and drop the glass of wine with the other as I spin on my toes and race toward the guest bedroom. I can’t scream. No sound escapes my lips as my feet push into the carpeted floor.
Heavy footsteps pound on the stairs behind me as I swing into the guest room and race toward the closet, sliding to the ground and right behind my wedding gown.
It’s the best place I can find quickly. I hit the phone, lighting up the numbers, and try to put in the passcode.
My finger slips and hits the wrong number. Fuck, I need to call the cops.
The door to the closet slams against the wall, opening with a loud bang.
I bite my lip and hold my hand over my mouth, keeping every sound as quiet as possible, trying not to breathe too damn loud. My heart thuds so hard that I swear it’s impossible to hide without being heard.
Whoever’s in my house says nothing. Their steel-toed boot hits the carpet right next to my thigh, making it visible under the edge of the wedding dress.
I bite my finger hard to keep silent. The sound of fabric rustling is so loud, and it reverberates in my ears, taking over every sound I manage to hear.
The plastic on the wedding dress case moves, rustling. I hold my breath, tilting my chin up to look deep into those dark brown eyes that appear black in the darkness.
“I-I’ll give you whatever you want,” I say, my voice shaking with fear. I’ll beg, I’ll plead, I’ll do anything to save me from whatever hell is about to happen.
They stop, cocking their head to the side as they hold back the edge of the wedding dress and just stare at me. What the hell kind of burglary is this?
“I-I have money,” I add, trying to reason with them. This has to be the only way, right?
They slowly squat down, pushing the dress to the side as they move. We’re on an even level, eye-to-eye. The mask—it covers their entire face except the eyes. Even if they were to say something, I’m not sure I’d hear it clearly. What kind of burglar wears a mask like that?
“I…” My voice cracks and breaks. I’m unable to say anything else.
We still.
A sharp intake of breath reaches my ears. But is it mine? Or theirs?
They jab out their hand, cover my neck with their fingers, and squeeze hard.
I reach up sharply, clawing at their gloved hand to break their grasp.
But I can’t. Tears prickle at the corners of my eyes as I fight for breath.
My head spins from the lack of air. I tense, pushing with my feet, fighting with everything I have until there’s nothing.