Chapter 11
Ophelia. Then.
When I got back to the apartment, all was quiet.
Aleena had left the kitchen light on for me.
Dishes rested in the sink, the trash needed to be taken out…
but that was all tomorrow’s problem. I tiptoed to my bedroom, threw on a slip, and curled up into bed.
My whole body felt like a livewire, thrumming with energy.
My bedroom door creaked. Feet pattered across the room, and then my sister’s body dipped the mattress beside me.
“Okay,” she said, her voice an excited whisper. “Tell me everything.”
I was buzzing on the high of my trip to the Seekers Club for days. Even the smell of citrus made me horny. I couldn’t stop thinking about Phantom. The purpose in his step. The way he took care of everyone in the club. That grumpy scowl, and yet…
The way I’d catch him in my periphery, constantly staring at me.
Back in the real world, they installed new air conditioners in the theatre.
I guess word of my fainting spell travelled and Lord Chrystie didn’t want a lawsuit on his hands.
Whatever the case, we were all grateful for the winter-like chill that now graced the theatre for our rehearsals.
I found myself more energized. Ready to work.
Ready to play. More like myself than I’d felt in a long time.
Midway through the week, I got a text from an unknown number.
[Text: Unknown Number]
Do you really want to learn?
It was him. Of course, it was him. My heart pounded in my chest as I respond.
[Text: Me]
Yes.
[Text: Unknown Number]
Go to the Fulton St station. Uptown line. Let me know when you’re there.
Like…now? How did he know where I lived? I wanted to ask questions, clarify, equivocate, and then I thought—
Fuck it. Stop over-thinking. Do.
I pulled a sweater on and grabbed my wallet.
“I’ll be right back!” I called out to Aleena. “Need anything?”
“Diapers? Oh, and granola bars, while you’re at it. I’ll text you a list.”
I gave her a thumbs up and dashed out the door. The train stop was only a couple blocks from me. I swiped to enter and glanced around. It smelled like nickels and late-morning. I didn’t see any sign of Phantom, though.
My phone buzzed.
[Text: Unknown Number]
Get on the C train. Car 1158.
Seriously, how does he know—?
The countdown clock gave me four minutes until the next train arrived.
It was the longest four minutes of my life.
Finally, I heard the low dragon’s rumble and the squeak of metal on metal.
The train rushed into the station and jerked to a stop.
I watched the cars pass by, noting the numbers on the top left side—car 1156, 1157…
1158. The doors slid open and a voice informed us all to stay away from the moving doors. The crowd was light today, seats mostly taken, but not packed. No Phantom in here.
I snagged an open pair of seats by the door at the very end of the car. My heart thumped as the doors vacuumed closed and the train picked up speed again. Taking me…where?
And that was the thrill, isn’t it? Trusting the journey.
Trusting him.
The train stopped at the next station. Then the next. At the third stop, the doors opened and I could feel his presence even before I saw him. A familiar form entered the train. He stepped over to me and, without saying a word, took the seat next to mine.
All I could hear was the rushing of my own heartbeat. I didn’t dare look at him. It felt wrong, somehow, to meet his gaze. Like a test. I kept my eyes fixed on the floor ahead of me. I wouldn’t look at him unless he asked me to. I wouldn’t move unless he told me to move.
I found it hard to even breathe without his permission.
Everywhere else in my life, I was a hellcat. With Phantom?
I craved the experience of being his good girl.
He wore his uniform—those dark paramedic blues. Did he just get off his shift? Couldn’t waste time going home to change? Was he thinking about me all day?
Was our interaction at the club haunting him, too?
There wasn’t a lot of space in these twin seats and, when the train jerked forward, his body pressed against mine. I felt the strength of him. The warmth of him. I wanted to curl into his lap.
He’s made me feral.
He said nothing. Instead, he fished a hand into his pocket. He pulled out a small, folded square of paper. His hand worked between us as he pushed the note into my pocket. He touched my thigh then and give me a small, gentle squeeze.
“Good girl,” he said softly. The train came to a halt. He got up and exited just before the doors closed again.
My heart wouldn’t stop pounding. For a minute, I couldn’t move, and I let the train rock me like a baby. Just being close to him…I felt an aching heat trapped between my thighs.
Finally, I got myself together enough to dig into my pocket and pull out the note he’d left.
The note read, in his tight, scratchy handwriting: “Friday. 7 pm. Door code 1158. Memorize these words: Mercy, give, eyes, pray, drop. PS: Come up with a scene name.”