Chapter 7 #2
My fingers slipped on the phone screen as I typed, trembling with a mix of rage and mortification.
You just said we’re pretending. I’m not your boyfriend or lover.
I’m your villain, Annie. And villains don’t uninstall spyware just because they’re asked nicely.
I wanted to scream. A scream that would shatter the windows and bring Havoc crashing through the ceiling, demanding answers I couldn’t give him.
“Fine,” I whispered to the empty room. “You want to play? Let’s play.”
I marched back to the window, yanked the curtains closed, and meticulously adjusted them until they were perfectly straight. No gaps. No cracks. Just an impenetrable wall of fabric between me and whatever surveillance equipment he was using.
I knew it was a futile gesture. He was already inside the walls. He was inside my head.
I settled back on my bed, reopened my laptop just as my phone buzzed again. I shouldn’t look. I knew I shouldn’t.
It was a screenshot. It was that photo. The one buried deep in a mislabeled system folder. The one where Cipher was caught mid-fight, his suit damaged and revealing a tantalizing glimpse of the sculpted muscle of his chest. His mouth was curved in that dangerous half-smile that haunted my dreams.
I’m flattered, Annie. According to your metadata, you’ve opened this file 47 times in the last month. Mostly between the hours of 11 PM and 1 AM.
He didn’t just know I had the photo. He knew the goddamn schedule. He knew exactly what I was doing in the dark, alone in my bed, when the city was asleep. He had quantified my lust.
Fuck you
Is that an invitation?
Because I’ve been thinking about it since I caught you. I’ve been thinking about how you’d look under me.
The phone trembled in my hand as he kept going.
I want to replace that photo in your mind, Annie. I want you to look at me while I push inside you. I want to feel you clench around me when I make you come.
Heat flooded my veins and settled between my thighs until I was aching. It was a betrayal of every survival instinct I possessed. I should be terrified. I was terrified. But I was also fucking wet.
My phone buzzed again.
Your heart rate just spiked.
I’m done with this conversation and I’m done with you invading my privacy.
Are you though?
Yes.
That was a lie.
Some of us have work in the morning. Important work. Finding stolen hammers. Catching rogue Trueborns. Not spying on people through their windows like some tech-enhanced Peeping Tom.
I prefer ‘dedicated researcher.’ And you didn’t answer my question.
Which question was that?
The one about fucking you.
You didn’t actually ask a question
Apparently I’d decided to be pedantic rather than sensible.
You made a statement about thinking about it.
Fair point. Let me rephrase: Would you like me to fuck you, Annie?
I stared at my phone screen, blinking rapidly, wondering if I was hallucinating or possibly reading too much into a text.
I blinked. Nope. The words were still there.
I took a screenshot telling myself I was saving evidence when in reality I knew I was saving it just to stare at during lonely nights when I questioned whether this whole bizarre situation had actually happened.
But as the initial shock wore off, something else bubbled up inside me. Indignation. The realization that he was definitely messing with me, and two could play at that game.
He wanted to watch what I was doing? Fine. Let him watch.
I did a quick search on my phone to double check something, then grabbed my laptop again. I navigated to HeroWorship, the Hero-centric equivalent of BadGuysDoItBetter.
The homepage loaded with its featured Heroes of the week. Right at the top was a shirtless Beacon, golden skin gleaming in what was clearly studio lighting.
I thought you had better taste than that, Annie. He looks like he asks for permission before he unhooks a bra.
I bit my lip. I shouldn’t bait him. I really shouldn’t. But the adrenaline was a drug.
Maybe I like a gentleman. Maybe I want someone who follows the rules.
Liar. You’re not wet because of his abs, Annie. You’re wet because I’m watching you look at them.
I was pissed because he was right. The image of Beacon was just pixels. The threat of Cipher was visceral.
Go ahead. Touch yourself to the hero. See if your body listens to ‘nice’.
Maybe I will
It was a desperate lie to prove I wasn’t his.
Do it. But keep the phone in your hand. I want to know the exact moment you realize you’re ruined for anyone but me.
I stared at the “perfect” Hero on my screen, and I felt nothing but impatience.
You never answered my question, by the way. You just deflected.
Do you want me to fuck you?
I was still staring at the phone, trapped between the defiance of “no” and the devastating truth of “yes,” when the front door unlocked.
“Annie? I’m home!”
I slammed the laptop shut and shoved my phone under my pillow.
“Just a second!” I called back, wincing when my voice came out strained and high-pitched.
My phone buzzed under the pillow. I ignored it and stepped into the living room.
Dawn looked up. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” I said too quickly. “Just work stuff. You know how it is. I thought you’d be out with Hunter tonight.”
“He had to cancel. Work emergency.” She shrugged, but I could see the disappointment in her eyes. “Have you eaten?”
“No, actually.” My stomach chose that moment to growl loudly, reminding me I’d been so caught up in my inappropriate text exchange that I’d forgotten basic human needs like food.
Dawn ordered Thai, and we settled into our usual routine of watching mindless reality TV. I kept my phone face-down on the couch, planning to ignore Cipher if he messaged anymore. Whatever he had to say could wait until I wasn’t sitting three feet from my roommate.
After we finished, I headed back to my bedroom, but I kept glancing at the black screen of my phone. He hadn’t texted once while I’d been with Dawn.
Where had he gone? Was he bored? Had he moved on to a more interesting target? I was actually disappointed that my stalker had stopped stalking me for the night.
I dropped my phone onto the mattress and reached for the buttons of my shirt, desperate to peel off the day and get ready for my shower.
My phone buzzed and I hated the immediate spike of excitement I felt. I was supposed to be immune to the gravitational pull of arrogant, manipulative Supers.
I snatched the phone up.
I counted eleven glances at your phone while your roommate was talking. You’re terribly impatient for a woman who claims she wants me to leave her alone.
I do
I let you play house with your friend because I’m generous. But don’t think I didn’t notice how tightly you crossed your legs on that couch. You’ve been aching since my mouth was on you in the rain.
I scowled as the distinct, hollow pang of need gnawed at me.
I typed out multiple different responses. Fuck off. You’re delusional. Are you still watching?, before I deleted all of them.
If Cipher wanted a reaction, he could wait for it. Let him wonder if his taunts were landing. I locked the screen and tossed the phone face-down onto my bathroom counter. I was going to take a nice hot shower and ignore the stalker currently hacking my life. At least for the next fifteen minutes.
As I reached for the buttons of my blouse, my eyes snagged on the small window above the shower.