Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
VIOLET
I’m fucking furious, anger building with every passing minute.
Jack’s still MIA. And he has not texted or called yet.
“Come on, Vi, cheer up.”
It’s early on Saturday night, and Lia’s trying to drag me out of the funk settling over me. She’s been doing it all afternoon.
“I’m good.” I cross my arms as I sit on her sofa, trying to ignore the glee that infuses Lia.
“You’re not, but you should be. That dead fish stunk everything up. I’m glad he’s not calling you back, and you just told me you’re ending it, so this should make you happy. It just vindicates your decision.”
“You’d think so. But it doesn’t.”
Her eyes go round as she shoves the drink she just finished making into my hand and sits on her sofa. She makes a motion for me to hurry up and drink before picking up her own blue whatever the hell it is she made and has a sip.
I sigh and take a sip, almost choking on the gin.
She chuckles. “The first sip is always the worst. And what do you mean?”
“That he should call me. It’s our anniversary, and you’d think it would sink in, just a little…”
“We knew he’d forget. And OMG, he didn’t even answer your calls, he answered his brother’s. I don’t know what to tell you if you don’t get what that’s saying.”
“Lia, you don’t need to be so gleeful about it.”
“No, I very much do. You want to end it, this is the last nail or piece of straw or whatever you want to go with.”
I turn the glass.
She isn’t wrong, but that’s not why my anger’s growing and along with it, an ache inside I don’t know what to do with.
“It’s just…I loved him.”
“No, you didn’t.”
I shoot her a look. “It might not have been earth shattering, but I did.” At least, I thought I did, once upon a time. Maybe I was too young to get it, but then again, what am I now?
And is this just a bump in the road or the final nail?
It’s the final nail, and it’s rusty.
But that doesn’t stop that tiny note of mournfulness in my veins.
You can know something’s over and has been for a long time and still feel something about it, something other than relief.
“Emotions are complicated. But I did, Lia. I’ve always understood my emotions, and I’m mostly angry he just went off with his friends. Where does that leave me?”
“With an excuse to dump his ass.”
I shake my head and have another swallow of the gin concoction. It’s growing on me. “But it makes it so…” I search for the word. “So reflexive, like I’m dumping him because he’s MIA.”
“He forgot your anniversary. No court in the land would let that stand.”
“But I don’t want it to be about me having a reaction. I don’t want it to be about one event. Which is what it’ll seem. This is a long time coming.”
“So what? Doing it now, after this, will make it way more believable. It’s Jack, he’s not dumb, but he doesn’t pay attention. Something like this gives him that thing to cling to, that thing he can see caused this.”
“And give him a reason to try and talk me into not breaking up with him. He’ll try and change my mind.”
“Don’t let him and don’t you dare.” She sniffs. “I don’t think you should even wait until he comes back.”
‘Lia…”
“You should call him right now and end it. And then we can go out drinking, paint the town in angry and righteous girl colors. And then you can get yourself a hot rebound guy to really get over him.”
I laugh and shake my head. “I’m not going that far.”
“I would.” Lia shrugs.
“Maybe, but I’m not you.”
Lia finishes her drink and gets up, snatching mine away to refill them both.
“This is my own fault, really. Jack never lied about who he was.”
“Look, Jack hasn’t morphed into another guy or put on some kind of act to get you.” Lia points at me with the gin bottle. “But he was more of a go-getter, way more together when you met him.”
“He still liked to play his games and smoke pot. I thought I could change him, help him grow.”
“Men aren’t plants. And the ones you nurture and help shape always leave you for something subpar. It’s the natural law of the universe, or something.” Lia gives me my refreshed drink.
I take a sip.
My phone buzzes.
I look at it and frown. “What the…”
“What is it?”
“My cloud just had some files synced to it, but I’m here. No, not files, photos.”
“Let me see.” Lia snatches my phone before I can answer her, and she puts in the passcode and then opens up the cloud.
And I swear her jaw drops, taking my stomach tumbling down to my toes with it.
“What?”
“Oh my…”
“Lia.” I go to snatch my phone, but she holds it out of the way.
“Oh, oh. Oh! No. Gross.” Then she looks at me, the glee gone. “Dump him now. Use my phone. I’ll delete these.”
But I’m on my feet, and I hold out my hand. “Give me my phone, Lia. It’s the cloud. If they didn’t come from me, they’re still on the other phone.”
“Maybe it’s better if you just…”
I close my eyes, everything turning to ice.
“Jack’s phone.” I don’t have to look at her to know. I open my eyes again. “Phone. Lia, now.”
“Here.”
If I thought they were bad, I had no idea.
Jack’s in Vegas.
He’s not just out with the guys, he took a five-and-a-half hour flight. Not including the time to get to either Laguardia, Newark or, more likely, JFK, the wait time for the flight…
It’s not a small thing.
And he’s having fun, all right.
Jack looks handsome, and more animated than I’ve seen him. The girls with him are hot and… Gross is right.
There’s Jack, a topless blonde on his knees, tits thrust in his face.
Another photo shows him with the blonde, his hands on said tits.
And another yet with her giving him a lap dance.
As I scroll I see him with his hand in her G-string he has pulled aside so I can see his finger buried in her as they make out.
I want to be sick.
I want to rage.
The next group of photos are of one of his best friends doing the same with her and I think that sickens me more.
Honestly, I don’t know what is worse. The fact he and his friends are doing this or that he went to Vegas with his friends on our anniversary.
“Yuck, is that Finn? That girl needs to get tested, and if this isn’t breakup shit, I don’t know what is,” Lia says hotly. “Why is he sending it all to you?”
“Because ‘what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas’ doesn’t apply when you’re too cheap to spring for your own cloud account. And he’s probably too drunk and fucked up to think I’ll see them.”
“I don’t think he’s thinking of you at all.”
Fury whips through me, and I hit Jack’s number.
I’m almost shocked when he answers.
It sounds like now they’re at the casino. “Babe, why are you calling?”
“Why are you in Vegas, and why the hell were you getting a lap dance?”
“Me?”
“You had your fingers in her.”
There’s silence, and someone wins something because a cacophony of sound fills that space.
“Those are old photos.”
“From when? Before we met? When you were twenty?”
“Yeah, fake ID—”
“No, Jack. In the photo before you were kissing her and fingering her, you know? The one where you had your hands on her fake tits, I could see the cut on your chin from shaving the other day, you fuckwit.”
“Vi, come on, it’s just some fun. You’ve no idea the pressure—”
“I’ve no idea of the pressure you deal with living rent-free in your brother’s apartment, playing video games all day? I don’t get that?”
“That’s not what I meant. I’m just saying that—”
“Nothing. You’re saying nothing I want to hear or know. We’re done, Jack.”
Lia does a happy dance.
I clench my hand.
“Vi—”
“Stay in Vegas as long as you want because we’re over.”
And I disconnect the call.
Lia punches the air. “Yass, Queen!”
“Lia…” I sink down and gulp the drink, holding it out when it’s empty.
There’s a hollowness opening inside. It’s not happiness or relief. Or…maybe there’s a touch of relief, but it’s mainly just a heavy hollowness.
She gets me a drink and sits on the floor with hers, a hand on my knee. “You did the right thing.”
“I know. But it still sucks.”
“Breaking up isn’t easy. Me? I’m a shallow bitch, I’d have a list of level-up guys and party hats and streamers, but you’ve got substance.
This is the right thing. He’s not good for you.
And who knows? Maybe he’ll bloom with the right girl when he grows up.
But you can’t sit around forever, and you two haven’t been on the same page for at least a year and a half. ”
Probably two. If I’m brutally honest.
But I take a sip of the drink and sigh. “I gave so much to him. Why is it so damn hard to find someone who appreciates me?”
“Vi, you’ve got time. Trust. And doing this now gives you more. He’s just one guy. The world’s teeming with them.”
“I don’t want to jump in the dating pool.”
Lia laughs. “You don’t, not tonight.” Her eyes light up, and her smile turns positively devilish. “Hey! I did find something out that might cheer you up.”
“What?” I narrow my eyes. “I’m not putting a hit out on Jack.”
“Save that for a man who’s worth it.” She giggles. Then she stops and leans in, looking up at me. “Our hacker has a website.”
“If it’s something creepy—”
“Depends on who you are and how you look at it. His website’s all about righting wrongs. You can submit requests for who his next target should be.”
I study her. “Are you suggesting I put in Jack’s name? Make him a target? Because Jack’s an asshole, but he’s no risk to the community. He’s not a risk to anything.”
“Except pot.” She laughs at her own lame joke. Then she shakes her head. “No, forget Jack. You should ask the hacker out.”
“On a date?”
Has Lia lost her mind?
“No way.”
“Not a date. He probably doesn’t date. Sex. You want to have sex with him. Proposition him.”
I snort. “Sex? Proposition him? No way. That’s not ever happening.”
“Come on, live a little. You’re free now.”
I take a sip of my drink. “I don’t know a single thing about this guy. What if he’s a serial killer?”
“He’s not.”
“He might be.”
“But he’s not.”
“You don’t know that, and neither do I, because we don’t know him. That’s the point.”
“Look, you’re just making excuses…dumb excuses. You think he’s hot. I think he’s hot—”
“In theory.”
“—and if he was a serial killer, he wouldn’t bother with the avenging thing. No one’s died, have they? He just exposes people for what they are. That’s all. It’s like a real-life superhero. Not a serial killer.”
I shake my head. “Okay, let’s say he’s not a killer.”
“Which he isn’t.”
“He might be married with fifteen kids and a beer gut. He might be a sixteen-year-old kid with zits. What if he’s gay? Asexual? What if he’s a woman?”
“No, no, no, no, and no.” Lia pins me with a look. “He’s a hot, straight man. The Ghost totally gives off that vibe.”
“In your head.”
“It makes sense. He goes after guys…. “She gasps. “Maybe he knows who you are and has the hots for you. He did that whole pink feather thing to Isaac after he turned ultra-creeper on you.”
I finish my drink, and Lia takes it, getting up to refill our glasses with her concoction. Then she comes back and hands me mine. “You know I’m right.”
“I know nothing of the sort.”
“He’s got slick moves, and half the city is swooning over him. Look at his site. There’s an open forum and a place you can contact him directly.” She drags my backpack over and digs out my laptop, handing it to me. “Look, woman, look.”
I bite down a sigh and google the site. It takes a lot of digging and help from Lia to find it.
“How is this slick? It’s buried deep, Lia.”
“He’s not advertising, is he? Look at the set up, simple, clean, the man’s got to be a smooth talker, and his style means he can fit in anywhere. He’s definitely hot.”
The site is sexy without meaning to be. Minimalistic, clean font, and he’s good with words.
I click on the forum. There’s a thread dedicated to people swooning over him, some of them claiming to have fucked him. I don’t know how true it is, so I jump out of the thread.
There are threads dedicated to public requests. I guess for those who aren’t that sure if they want something done just for them, or if these people are mostly venting. But there are certain things up that loads of people are angry about, so I can see The Ghost choosing from there on occasion.
I would, if I was the ghost.
But there’s an email address where you can just send him a request, tell him anything you want.
And…it sparks that dark part inside me, the part that’s never leapt with flame when it came to Jack.
The part that I know is wrong, the thing inside which tells me I’m not exactly normal, and the things that fan fantasies are wild, dirty, wrong.
I like the idea of a stranger touching me. Taking control. I like the thought of control, of giving it up of being taken against my will.
I’m not holding a death wish or anything self-destructive. I get the driving force behind rape fantasies, primal urges, submissiveness, and being forced to perform publicly.
It’s the illusion of giving up control, yeah, I get all of that. And I’m not looking to explore any of that.
I like to play around, to dabble in talking about it, pretending I’ll go and do it, but…
In my wildest, darkest fantasies, having an unknown take control, watch me, stalk me, take me, force me—
I stop.
Take a breath, and before I can stop myself: I open up an email tab.
Ghost, I think you might be stalking me already. I want you to stalk me harder. I want you to do things to me…
I continue typing, unleashing my dirtiest fantasy.
Lia knows some of them, but she doesn’t know this.
When I finish, my face is blazing and I sign it Peony. I’m not sure why. Maybe because they’re girly flowers, their season brief.
It’s all anonymous, right? He’ll never know who Peony with the dirty, dirty desires is.
It’s just a bit of fun to help me forget about Jack.
Right?