Chapter 8 #2
“Great,” I mutter, shutting the fridge. Of course there’s no food in the house. Why would there be? No one ever shops but me.
Heading over to the sink, I set my phone on the counter and pour myself a glass of water. I should sleep. It’s late, and I have to get up early. But my mind keeps racing, thinking about the other night… the power dynamic between us.
I’ve only seen Kane around town a few times. We don’t visit Bleakmoor Heights unless we have to, and they don’t come to Bleakmoor Falls unless they’re up to something shady. Why would they? They can’t risk the poverty staining their chinos, am I right?
Besides, it’s dangerous for them to come here. Gang rivalry and violent crimes are common, and when you walk around these parts dressed in clothes worth more than the average paycheck, you easily become a target.
My phone vibrates with a message from Rain, and we text back and forth for a few minutes while she tells me about the latest trouble she has gotten into.
The distraction is just what I need as I take a seat at the table. Rain sends me a picture of Malice passed out on the couch, a lit cigarette dangling from his mouth.
Rain:
If the house burns down, I’m blaming him.
Smiling, I click out of the chat and open Instagram. But don’t ask me what compels me to type ‘Kane Ravencourt’ in the search bar. Perhaps curiosity killed the cat, after all.
I click on his page and ignore the spark of heat between my legs when I study his profile picture. His page feels impersonal and carefully crafted like everything about him.
Photograph after photograph shows him posing with friends and leggy women who look like they fell out of the pages of a lingerie magazine.
My stomach twists with unease as I scroll past those before pausing at an image of Kane with his twin, who looks exactly like him, except his hair is shorter.
Squashed in the middle of the two hulking men is a girl with flowing brown hair and Kane’s eyes. They must all be siblings? The family resemblance is uncanny.
I scroll past a few more images, staring a moment too long at a photograph of Kane leaning back against his sleek sports car with his hands in his pockets.
He gazes off into the distance, unaware that he’s being photographed, and I can’t help wondering who’s behind the camera. A friend, maybe? Or a girl?
Another text message from Rain comes through, and I go to respond, except I accidentally like Kane’s picture instead.
My heart jumps to my throat, and I quickly unlike it, but it’s too late. Seconds later, Kane follows my account.
“Shit,” I mutter. This is the last thing I need.
Kane:
Are you stalking me, beautiful?
My eyes bug out, and I start typing out a response, but delete it. What can I even say that won’t antagonize him further or get me into more trouble?
Kane:
I bet you’re dying to pull a gun on me again and order me around.
Dropping the phone onto the table, I rest my face in my hands and let out a long groan. God, how fucking embarrassing. What is wrong with me? And why am I thinking about it now?
Kane:
Are you fantasizing about me, little thief?
I peek through my fingers, and he continues typing.
Kane:
Fantasizing about me holding you down while the gun is just out of reach.
Kane:
Just when I’m about to sink inside that tight cunt of yours and fuck you silly, you grab the gun and aim it at me.
Kane:
Come on, beautiful. Play with me.
To hell with this. I pick up the phone.
Jessica:
Leave me alone, Kane.
Kane:
There she is. Hi, baby.
Seriously?? I bite my knuckles to hold back a scream of frustration. Summer is asleep. I don’t want to wake her up.
Kane:
The gun is aimed at my head. What happens next?
I ignore him, watching the bubbles appear and disappear. Maybe he’ll go away if I don’t respond?
Kane:
Okay, my girl is playing hard to get.
My girl?
My heart does an unsettling little jump in my chest.
Kane:
I overpower you and steal the gun back. Without it, you’re trapped and helpless ;)
Kane:
Fuck… I’m hard. If you don’t respond, I might have to turn up at your house.
Shit. I snatch up the phone, and my fingers fly across the screen.
Jessica:
You don’t know where I live.
Kane:
My family owns this town, sweetheart. That includes the north side, too. Trust me, I know where you live.
And then he proceeds to text me my address, and I stare wide-eyed at it for long minutes, a lump stuck in my throat.
Jessica:
You’re scaring me, Kane.
Kane:
Good. The gun is gone, and you’re trapped beneath me, whimpering like a needy slut. What are you gonna do?
My clit throbs as I force away those unwelcome images.
Jessica:
I have a knife on me that you don’t know about.
Now that I’ve finally replied to him, I can practically feel his mischievous smile through my phone.
Kane:
A knife, huh? Interesting. What’s my little thief going to do with the knife?
Jessica:
Press it to your throat.
Kane:
Think you can try not to cut me while I fuck you into the mattress?
I place the phone screen down on the table and drop my head back. This man is going to be the death of me. Now all I can think about is the blade nicking his skin… those eyes darkening while he moves inside me. I’ve already seen his cock.
Honestly, it is huge. I’ve never slept with a guy that hung, but it would hurt in the best way possible.
Hang on? Why am I thinking about sex with Kane? It is never going to happen.
Jessica:
You’re never fucking me, Kane. Drop that idea.
Kane:
We both know I’m fucking you soon.
My panties are wet. I shift on the seat, subtly rubbing my swollen clit against the chair to alleviate the ache, but it just makes it worse.
Jessica:
What will it take for you to leave me alone?
Kane:
Leave you alone? Baby, I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve fucked my hand since you pulled your little stunt in my father’s office. There’s no turning back. Not until I’m done with you.
Kane:
You owe me two orgasms, remember?
Jessica:
I have a boyfriend.
Kane:
Break up with him.
My mouth drops open in surprise, and I can’t help but laugh at his audacity.
A fake boyfriend doesn’t even deter him.
This is almost funny. Does he really think I’d fall for it?
Or is he just confident? What a stupid question.
Of course, he’s that confident. This is Kane Ravencourt we’re talking about.
He was born with the world at his feet. Either way, I’m not sure if I should be amused or annoyed.
Jessica:
Are you crazy? I’m not breaking up with my boyfriend for you.
Chewing my lip, I watch the bubbles appear and disappear.
Kane:
Does he know about your little kink?
A sudden rush of nerves hit me, scrambling my thoughts. I start to type out a response, but he beats me to it.
Kane:
I doubt he does. I doubt anyone knows but me.
A chill settles over my skin as I read over his words. He’s not wrong. I haven’t told anyone.
Kane:
My little rabbit better sleep with a gun under her pillow. You never know what terrors stalk the night.
Another text follows directly after.
Kane:
Good night, princess. Have sweet dreams ;)
There’s a slight tremble in my fingers. I click out of the chat and double-check that the doors and windows are locked on my way back to bed.
I can’t shake the feeling that something isn’t quite right tonight. The shadows seem darker, and the silence more oppressive. I wonder if Kane meant what he said or if he was trying to get under my skin.
Summer is fast asleep when I enter my bedroom, her even breaths soothing my anxiety. I carefully crawl in beside her, but my thoughts soon drift, and I roll over onto my back.
The blinds are drawn, but some slats are broken, so if someone is outside, they can see in. What if Kane shows up like he threatened? What then? No, why would he do that? He was just trying to get a reaction out of me. That’s all.
And it worked.