Chapter 36 #5
My chest pulls like taffy, thinking about him in any context. He’s still here with me, just not physically… This city is an echo of him, and I won’t leave nor rest until I find answers. There’s no length I wouldn’t go, because I know he would have done the same for me.
Against Andrea’s wishes, I’m going to work…
not only do I need the money, but I also need to talk to Eamon.
I’m confident he knows more about my brother than he’s already revealed.
I just hope he’s actually there, so I can speak to him.
He may have been closer to Theo in his last years but, that’s my fault…
I should have called more… arranged more lunches.
Outside of my guilty conscience, Eamon and I both recognize the fact that Theo would never take his own life.
Especially with drugs… he never touched the stuff! At least, I think he hadn’t.
I shake the heavy notion from my mind, focusing on the present while I dry and style my hair.
Back in my room, my attention falls upon the sprinkle filled plug, taunting me from the dresser.
Heat floods my cheeks when I think about where it was, who put it there, and all that happened just last night at the boathouse.
Dax expects me to wear the plug while I work.
I’m torn. While the idea excites me, making me feel insanely aroused…
I also worry I’ll be uncomfortable serving strangers with a sex toy buried just inside.
I check the messages on my phone while securing my aids on each ear. I missed quite a few while I was away.
The Stalker: You’ve made progress. I’ve been watching… you need to find some kind of proof. I believe your brother left something for you to find. Now, be a good girl and put your present in that pretty ass of yours.
Jesus! My lips feel dry and chapped, tongue jutting out to rehydrate them following Dax’s dirty text.
I feel compelled to change his current contact.
I suck my bottom lip into my mouth, recalling how he’s prompted me into a rollercoaster of emotions.
Causing everything from fear, to pain, and then pleasure.
Given the option, I still want to stay on.
Somehow without my knowledge, he managed to give me my power back.
I asked to keep him, because as much as he’s pursued me…
I get the impression that I’ve longed for him, just as long.
Although, now I have a name for who I yearned for.
Editing the Contact, I change the text from The Stalker to Dax the Friendly Stalker.
Eat your heart out, Kat Harvey, the ghost boy’s mine!
I smile inward, rereading through his words one more time before moving onto the other missed texts. I was surprised to find one from Eamon.
Eamon: Don’t worry about coming in today, I found coverage. We’ll talk later.
Umm, how about no! Nothing will stop me from going into work today.
I have bills to pay and he has some explaining to do.
Last we spoke, I left with too much unsaid.
The date at his posh apartment was the last time we were alone together.
The more I learn about him, the more clarity I gain.
Of course, my boss is a crime lord… how else could he stay afloat with a hole in the wall bar, a boxing club, and still manage to afford a life like that?
! He must think I'm pretty helpless if one text could keep me away. Well, I’m nothing if not persistent.
I plan to live my life as I see fit. Not bothering to offer either man a response, I plan to unapologetically show up for my shift and learn what I can.
I have one more missed text. It’s from… Mairead? Sitting on the edge of my bed, I think back to the escape room. How worked up she was. Arming my lungs with air, I open the message.
Mairead: I figured it out… who set the explosions off around the city! It was Mr. Callaway’s sister!!! I’m super bummed that you and your pretty friend left before we found the answer. No worries, though! We’ll get to play together again soon.
There is so much to unpack within this message.
Even more of a reason to see Eamon. Especially since his sister seems to think I killed their mother.
I mean, what the fuck?! I click the contact and select “block.” She’s certifiable!
I’ve never killed anyone! How is the reserved, level-headed Eamon related to ‘Strawberry Nutcase?!’ A sense of dread sinks like a weight to the bottom of my stomach, when I call back her words at the Escape Goat.
“Daddy and I agree… you're the reason mother is dead!” I had never seen her like that before. Pupils blown out, like an animal that had just cornered its prey. I’ve met their father before too.
He accompanied Mairead when she visited my booth at the Craft Bazaar.
There was a faint Irish accent when he introduced himself.
Patrick I think? Why would they think I’m responsible for Mary’s death?
Each new pebble of awareness builds upon an avalanche of curiosity.
One thing I can interpret… without a shadow of a doubt, I need to stay the hell away from the father-daughter duo.