5. Noelle
five
Noelle
S team envelops the master bathroom, the sound of scalding water cascading from the oversized showerhead creating a soothing rhythm as it drenches my body, turning my skin a vivid red. The sharp sting of the burning water snaps me awake, my eyelids fluttering closed as memories from the night before replay in my mind like my favorite film.
Without glancing in the mirror, I can already feel the heat creeping into my cheeks, the mere thought of that deep, intimate conversation with the enigmatic Q stirring my thoughts. I can’t believe I actually confessed my kidnapping kink to him—what a reckless admission. At least, I remind myself, I won’t have to face him in person.
Relieving my thoughts felt good; I won’t deny it. Who else could I possibly share those kinds of secrets with? Not my stepson, and certainly not my colleagues. Who fantasizes about being kidnapped and taken advantage of? A fucking weirdo—me—that's who.
I wasn’t always this way. It wasn’t until the home invasion that changed everything, taking Nicholas away from me, that I began to explore the darker corners of my mind. Trauma manifests differently for each person, as does the way we cope with it. In my case, after surviving gang rape and a brutal beating, one might expect terror to consume me. Instead, my mind has spiraled into darker fantasies of being kidnapped. It's a relentless fixation, one I cannot shake.
As I step out of the shower, I catch sight of the bathroom door ajar—a crack I know I didn’t leave open. Wrapping a towel around my damp body, I instinctively shield myself from any prying eyes.
I hurry to grab my clothes, driven by an urgent need to cover up. However, as I pull on my underwear, I barely notice the slimy substance clinging to the fabric until I slip into my jeans. I freeze, recalling the unsettling incident from a few days prior when I discovered something similar in my underwear. Panic washes over me as my mind races with the chilling realization.
Someone was in here while I was showering, and again, they came in my underwear.
A shiver runs through my bones, goosebumps erupting across my skin as every hair stands on end. I quickly undress, ripping off my underwear and throwing them in the trash. Once I'm dressed, without underwear, I slip out of the bathroom and descend the stairs, hoping that Cole isn't home.
There's a fire roaring in the family room fireplace, and the curtains are open, revealing another snowy day just outside of the windows. The smell of vanilla and cinnamon wafts through the house, making my mouth water from the delicious aroma.
Cole has to be here...
Going about my normal routine as if today is just another day and not Christmas Eve, I enter the kitchen to prepare a cup of coffee for the road. That's when I see him. He's sitting at the island with a cup of coffee and his laptop open in front of him, his eyes glancing up to meet mine as I step closer.
"Cole, I didn't know you were here," I admit, grabbing a to-go mug from the cabinet above the coffee pot.
"I didn't know I had to let you know whenever the fuck I came home," he snaps, and right away I can tell that he's in a mood.
Trying to change the subject and ease the tension surrounding us, I offer a topic I know he loves to talk about.
"So, is there a game tonight since its Christmas Eve?" Grabbing the pot half-full of coffee, I pour a full mug, adding cream and sugar all while keeping my back toward him.
"Yeah, Noelle, there's always a Christmas Eve game," he snaps at me again. "And yeah, I saved your ass a fucking seat."
Twisting the cap onto my mug, I take a sip before turning around to face him, trying to think of a way to break it to him gently that I'm just not in the mood to go tonight. He stands up, grinning deviously, which gets my heart beating faster. Slowly, he walks over to me, his cup in his hand, and doesn't stop until he's right in my face, our noses almost touching.
"Dressed to head out, I see," he remarks, giving me a look that doesn't sit right with me.
"Yes, Cole. I have a few things to grab at the office." I swallow hard, knowing that he can probably hear the thumping of my racing heart.
He reaches out, his hand grazing my hip, and I shiver, frozen in fear, so that I can't walk away. He drags his fingers down the front of my jeans, tracing over my zipper. Something dark flickers in his eyes as the corners of his lips tug upward into another evil grin. He leans in closer, his mouth beside my ear, his breath skating like fire against my skin.
"Tell me that you'll be at my game, Noelle," he whispers, his fingers still running up and down my zipper, making me fully aware that I'm not wearing underwear.
The sensation, although highly inappropriate, feels so fucking good that I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from moaning.
And his ass knows it too.
"I'll try, Cole. I have a busy day ahead," I whisper in a breathy moan, trying my hardest to stay composed.
He laughs evilly, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth while running his hand up the front of my body, not stopping until his fingers dance across my collarbone, giving me the chills.
"You'll be there, Noelle—trust me," he snickers as he backs up and finally walks away, leaving me alone in the kitchen with soaked jeans and a dry mouth.
Trying to shake off another awkward encounter, I take another sip of my coffee, debating if I should go up and change or just leave.
Fuck it. I need to get out of here.
The cold air hits my face as I step outside, the crunch of snow beneath my boots grounding me amid the swirling chaos in my mind. The world is blanketed in white, a serene contrast to the storm of emotions brewing inside me. I inhale deeply, breathing in the crispness of the winter day, but even the fresh air fails to fulfill me.
I run through my plans for the day in my head—need to stop by the office to tie up some loose ends, swing by the grocery store for the holiday feast, and then find a way to avoid Cole's game without setting off any more of his predatory instincts. The tension between us is like a worn string, ready to snap at any moment, and I don’t know if I should be more afraid of the physical confrontation or the fact that I’m undeniably drawn to him.
As I navigate the snow-covered streets of my neighborhood, my mind drifts back to the conversations we’ve had and the way his presence both excites and terrifies me. I can still feel his fingers ghosting over my body, the unwanted heat simmering beneath my skin. My thoughts spiral into that dark space again—my fantasies of danger twisted with the reality of how close I am to someone who feels like both a protector and a threat.
Rounding the corner, I see the office building looming in the distance, its glass facade shimmering under the softly diffused light of the overcast sky. As I approach the entrance, I catch a glimpse of someone familiar through the windows. It's Riley, my colleague and friend, busy at her desk. A wave of relief washes over me, and for a brief moment, I feel anchored.
“Hey, you!” she calls out as I step inside. “I didn’t expect to see you here. I thought everyone would be off for the holidays.”
I force a smile, eager to immerse myself in normalcy, to pretend that everything is okay, even for just a moment. “Just finishing up some last-minute stuff. You know how it is.”
She raises an eyebrow but surprisingly avoids probing further. “Want some coffee? I just brewed a pot.”
“Yeah, sure,” I reply, grateful for the distraction.
As she pours two mugs, I take a moment to collect my thoughts, reminded that outside this sanctuary lies Cole—his shadow looming larger with each second ticking down to game time.
We chat about mundane office matters, the usual office gossip, and the holiday plans of our colleagues. I let out soft laughs, engaging in the banter, thankful that Riley’s easygoing nature seems to keep my anxieties at bay. However, as much as I try to hold on to this feeling, the clock on the wall catches my eye, and my stomach sinks as I realize how much time has passed.
“I, uh, really have to get going,” I stammer, guilt creeping in for abandoning our conversation.
“Already?” Riley asks, concern flickering in her eyes. “Are you sure you shouldn’t just rest for a bit? You’ve been through a lot lately.”
I hesitate, biting my lip as her words echo in my mind. “I’m fine, really!” I force a laugh. “Just have a few things to get done before the game.”
She studies me for a moment longer before nodding, still clearly unconvinced but dropping it. “Alright, just don’t hesitate to reach out if you need to talk, okay?”
“Yes, of course. Thanks, Riley.”
As I step back out into the cold, the implications of my day weigh heavily on me. The prospect of facing Cole again is hanging like a storm cloud over my head. I shake my head, willing myself to focus. I need to get through this day, and then I can escape to the solitude of my room, away from his piercing gaze and the games he plays.
As I drive to the grocery store, my heart races every time I think of the arena where Cole would be sure to be surrounded by friends, adrenaline pumping, and fans roaring. He thrives there, and somewhere deep inside, I know he expects me. I wish I could just blend in with the crowd and disappear, but the thought of being in his line of sight creates a heavy sense of dread mixed with inexplicable anticipation.
Pulling into the parking lot, I take a deep breath and steady myself, reminding myself that I can control this. I’m stronger than the dark euphoria he’s ignited within me—a force of nature in my own right. I’m not just the woman he toys with; I’m a survivor, one who can navigate life’s challenges, however twisted they may become.
As I grab my shopping list and step into the store, I can’t shake the feeling of someone watching me. It’s a sensation that gnaws at my insides, stirring up remnants of doubt and fear. I glance around, my pulse quickening as a disconcerting thought settles into the pit of my stomach. The sense of being trapped isn't only reserved for the confines of my mind; out here, in the light of day, I too might be a target.
I shake my head, forcing myself to think rationally. But the nagging idea won't leave me—I’m living out my own nightmare, and it feels closer than ever. I can’t let him win; I can’t let fear consume me again.
And yet, the perfect storm is brewing.
As I walk through the aisles, I still feel like someone is following me. Each person I pass, every shadow lurking at the edges of my vision, sends a fresh wave of paranoia crashing over me. I push the cart forward, each item I toss inside momentarily distracting me from the cold sweat forming on my brow.
When I finally make it to the checkout, relief washes over me. But as I glance up, my heart drops like a stone. Standing there with an aloof look on his face is Cole, leaning against the counter with an all too casual grin. His presence expands, filling the space and highlighting how small and fragile I feel in comparison.
“Thought I might find you here,” he says, his voice smooth as silk, yet every word drips with something sinister.
Just like that, my plans to avoid him slip away like snow melting beneath a warm sun, and I realize I might be trapped... again .