Chapter 41

#Chapter 41 – Stalker I carry Archie out of the closet, wandering down the hallway, thinking about my phone call with Victor.

As I walk by the boys’ door I quickly look in on them and am pleased to see they’re asleep, though they do it with small frowns on their little faces. I sigh and pull their door shut – they’ll be fine, I know, but I still hate to see them challenged.

As I wander down the stairs I consider, again, if I’m doing the right thing with Victor. When I started this therapist charade I was seeking power – and I don’t regret that. But…things are different now. I am in a much more secure position with Victor, and I really do want to find the balance within our lives.

I put Archie down and move to make myself a cup of tea, putting the kettle on to boil. If Victor and I are truly in a better place, then is it right, still, to continue being his therapist? Am I now taking advantage of the situation, betraying his trust for little to no gains?

Or is there part of me that just…likes talking to him? Learning about his life, being able to give council in the way that a friend or a wif-

I shake the thought away and busy myself with the tea, placing a teabag in my favorite yellow mug. I know that I should stop, but how? Aren’t I too far in now? Would it be suspicious for me to so abruptly end our sessions?

Or is part of me still afraid to let go of what little power I have? I am, after all, living in his house, in his back yard, without a lease. One wrong step and I could be gone.

I put my head in my hands, thinking it all over, and jump when the kettle starts to whistle. Frankly, I’d forgotten all about it.

As I pour the water I breathe in the steam and imagine it clearing my mind, working to make it a reality.

As I soak the lemon and chamomile tea satchet, breathing in the scent, my mind turns to Edgar, who sometimes smells of lemons. It’s a nice scent – fresh, clean.

My mind turns again to our kiss on the porch the other night, when he made me feel anything but clean.

I bite my lip, thinking about it, and then, on impulse, take my phone out of the back pocket of my jeans.

Me: Hey, are you up?

I send him a text, trying to sound casual, but knowing that he’s probably awake – it’s only 7:00, after all.

The question is, will he take the bait?

Edgar: Yeah, I am. How are you?

I smile, feeling a little devious.

Me: I’ve been thinking about you, about what happened on my porch the other night.

He takes a moment to respond.

Edgar: Oh no, are you feeling unsafe? Victor said he was going to have Pete stand outside your house at all times.

I roll my eyes at Edgar. Come on, man. Figure it out.

Me: No, I mean I was thinking about what we were doing before we found the note. The thing for which we needed to take a little rain check.

As I wait for Edgar’s reply, I casually peek out the front window. Did Victor really increase the patrols that quick? When I look to the left, I see that Pete is in fact there, eating a snack. Poor thing, I wish I had known – I could have given him dinner instead of whatever that cold brown bar is.

My phone dings and I look back down, happy to see that Edgar has decided to play along.

Edgar: I’ve been thinking about you too. Thinking about your ass.

Me: Oh yeah? What do you want to do to it?

I giggle and settle in on my couch, enjoying myself.

Edgar: Oh, I could think of a few things.

He’s being shy. Time to take it up a notch.

Me: Hmmm. Well, I want you to lift up my skirt and then bend me over your knee so that you can spank that ass, like I’m a bad girl. What do you think about that?

Edgar: Jesus christ, Evelyn Ut-oh. Have I pushed it too far?

Edgar: You’ve got me rock hard, sitting here, just thinking about that. I’m glad I’m at home and not at work. What else do you want me to do to you?

I squeal with excitement, so glad that he’s playing along, and snuggle down into the blankets of the couch.

Me: Well, if I’m a bad girl, you’re going to have to punish me. Show me how to be good.

As I wait for Edgar’s reply, I wonder – passively – if Victor and Amelia ever do anything like this. Victor is so wound up usually – so strict. But honestly, that could be a good thing…

My phone dings and I look down at the screen.

Edgar: I can think of a couple of ways to teach you a lesson. Of course, you’d have to be on your knees.

My jaw drops open. I type my reply as fast as I can.

Me: I hope you’re imagining me on my knees right now, kneeling in front of you. What would you do?

Edgar: I’d take this big d**k out and run it all over your soft lips.

I squeal again, slapping my hand over my mouth. Geeze, and here I was thinking that I’d have to help him along. Edgar always surprises.

Me: I’d open my mouth, and run my tongue over every inch of that c**k. I’d slide you all the way back into my throat.

Edgar: What do you think about taking this to a phone call? If I’m going to make you moan, I want to hear it.

I giggle and call him immediately. He picks up on the first ring.

“Am I really making you hard?” I ask, my voice low.

“So hard, Evelyn,” he responds. “My c**k is in my hands right now. I’m stroking it, thinking of you.”

“Are you going fast, or slow?”

“Slow, like I imagine you would be if you were blowing me. That’s how I imagine it, when I jerk off thinking about your mouth.”

“Do it harder,” I say, demanding. “Go fast.” I hear Edgar groan as he follows my rules.

“Now,” I say, “I want you to –“

Before I can complete my command, though, I hear a crash at my window – a big one. Clutching the phone in my hand I spin towards the front of my house – seeing a dark form climbing through the broken glass.

“EDGAR” I scream, trying to hold the phone up to my face, but too shocked to really get it there.

“There’s someone in my house! Help me, please help –“

Before I can get any further, the form leaps at me, snarling, tackling me to the floor. My phone flies from my hand. I struggle, my own feral nature meeting my fear so that my fangs start to elongate, my nails to grow. Archie is barking like mad – I can hear him distantly in the background – but –

Before I can fight back, the person punches me across the face so that my head spins to the side, crashing into the floor. Everything begins to swim and I see brown and white spots in my vision.

I blink, trying to clear my eyes, get my thoughts together, but the person hits me again and then goes for my throat, choking me with their hands.

As I gasp for air I train my vision on the person’s face. In the darkness I’m able to see brown hair – a slim form – angry blue eyes and snarling teeth. Emily.

Instincts kick in and I claw at the hands holding my throat, drawing blood. She flinches at the pain and I take full advantage of the moment, swiping my arm and breaking her grip. I gasp sweet air into my lungs and lunch myself for her, knocking her to the floor this time.

But she still has the advantage over me, having been able to breathe this whole time. As I orient myself Emily swipes at my face with her claws, ripping the skin of my cheek. As I flinch in pain she flips me over, pinning my arms underneath her knees and using her body weight to incapacitate me.

Even as I flail my legs, trying to kick her or wrap a leg around her to pull her off, her body weight prevents me from getting any advantage. As much as I hate it, I realize that she’s got me pinned. I snarl up at her, livid, terrified.

“I told you I’d come get you, b***h,” she hisses, wrapping her hands back around my throat and slamming my head into the ground. “You shouldn’t have f****d with my man.”

My vision blurs again, my mind starts to go dark.