Chapter 9

Kate

I eat a grilled chicken salad with creamy French dressing.

I stare at my fiancé the entire time. He’s telling me about his day. He’s asking me about my day. All I can think about is that I’m going to lie right to his face, then leave this house and go suck Corbin’s cock.

We finish eating and Chad tells me he’ll handle the dishes tonight.

I should feel guilty. I don’t.

I end up in the bathroom and I splash cold water on my face. I check my teeth for lettuce, then I brush my teeth for good measure.

You’d swear I’ve never given a blow job before.

I’m antsy. I’m nervous.

I check my teeth.

Corbin isn’t going to give a fuck about my teeth.

He just wants my mouth. My tongue. He wants me to gag on his cock. Choke on his cock.

I suddenly regret eating a salad for dinner.

My stomach flips and I actually consider making myself throw up.

The bathroom door opens behind me and I spin around.

“You okay in here?” Chad asks.

“Yeah,” I say. “I had some lettuce in my teeth.” I make a big smile.

“Looks good to me. You always look good to me.”

Okay, Kate, now what? How the fuck are you going to get out of this house?

My heart races. “Work was weird today.”

“I thought we talked about your day. Did something happen? Are you hiding something?”

“Hiding? Why would I hide something? I’m just letting you know I’ve had a weird day. Okay?”

“Yeah. Sure. Can I get you anything? Can I do anything?”

I shake my head. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll go for a drive. Think. Listen to music.”

“Right now? Alone?”

“Worried about a monster stealing me?” I ask.

Fuck if that question isn’t laced with truth.

There is a monster. Except he’s not coming to get me. I’m going to him.

“You know what, Kate? Do your thing. I’ve actually got some work to catch up on. I hate working at home and at night.”

“No, that’s fine. Really. You should. Maybe I’ll grab a coffee or something, you know? Treat myself.”

Like sucking my criminal ex’s huge cock…

At the first stop sign I come to, I grab my phone and know what I have to do next.

The world of technology makes cheating on your fiancé quite the task, doesn’t it?

I wait to cringe at that awful thought but I don’t.

I open a tracking app that both Chad and I have. Some nonsense family app that a lot of parents use to be able to track their kids. Or their kids can track them. Everyone and everything feels so close and connected all the time anymore.

Just as I’m about to turn the app off, I realize my fucking phone itself is tracked too. It’s all connected. My phone is connected to my laptop, tablet… everything.

I’m visible everywhere at all times.

It makes me want to throw my phone out of the fucking window.

An idea hits me.

I put my window down and come this close to flicking my phone out the window.

That way I’m free and clear. And then I can have my phone be damaged and tell Chad I left it on the roof of the car and just drove off.

I hesitate.

Okay, fine, I’ll admit it.

I’m sort of afraid of Corbin.

I remember him before prison. The way he acted. His rough, mean style of caring. He showed me pleasure but in a little bit of a more subdued way than his sudden return. Yet the man hasn’t really touched me yet.

I lick the inside of my mouth.

It’s hurts a little from him hurting me.

But he didn’t hurt me. Hurting means stopping him, which I could have done.

I tell myself to keep my phone in case of an emergency.

It means taking a bit of a chance.

I open the settings and turn everything off.

Wi-Fi. Bluetooth. Cellular.

I turn everything off I can think of and then I turn the phone itself off.

That has to be good enough. It’s not like Chad is trying to find me or actively thinking something is wrong with me.

Or is he…?

I rub my forehead.

This is the reality of cheating I guess.

I could go right back and not go see Corbin.

I could find a way to end this with Corbin.

Fix this with Chad.

There’s time. There’s always a way…

A horn beeps behind me.

I’ve spent way too long at this stop sign.

So much time that at the next stop sign, I don’t stop. I don’t even slow down.

I just drive, eyes forward.

Fuck it.

Whatever happens in life, happens.

In fact I run every stop sign.

Nothing bad happens.

No accidents. No police pulling me over.

Is that a sign?

I don’t think I believe in signs.

I believe in reality. What’s right in front of me.

The ten minute drive goes by quick and I’m pulling into the familiar auto repair lot.

It’s way more rundown than I remember.

There are plenty of cars in the lot.

I catch myself finding a way to hide my SUV.

If I could be any more cliché as a middle class soon-to-be housewife, here I am with my Denali that has four doors, three rows of seats, and plenty of storage. I’m lucky it’s not a fucking minivan, which I’m sure is on the horizon for me at some point.

I park and climb out.

I wait for the little voice in my head to kick in and remind me that nothing bad has happened yet. Nothing that can’t be fixed. That there’s plenty of time to turn around and go home.

Again, that voice doesn’t exist.

I wonder if I’m as evil as Corbin, just in a different way.

Maybe I’m like a black widow, syphoning off what I want when I can get it before making my kill.

My heart races with each step I take.

There’s a sudden loud noise next to me.

It’s a growling noise. Old metal pulling against older metal.

I scream and jump.

My heart races even faster.

The garage bay to my right is halfway open now, the source of the surprising sound.

Corbin crouches as needed and steps out from the garage.

He takes one look at me and can see that I’m about to pass out.

Coming to my aid, his massive left hand touches my back.

He towers over me. He smells like sweat and oil.

“Scared me,” I manage to whisper. “My heart feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest.”

“Oh yeah?”

Corbin doesn’t hesitate.

His right hand presses against my chest, over my heart… over my left breast too .

He knows what he’s doing.

“Yeah, your heart is definitely racing,” he says.

His thumb starts to rub the inside of my left breast. Through my shirt and my bra.

His pinky finger makes a sweeping motion down and around, moving right over my nipple. My nipple is twisted and tight but its hardness is blocked by the padding in my bra.

“Let’s get you inside and get you a drink, Katie ,” Corbin whispers in a rough voice.

There’s something about this imagery if you take a second to really think it out.

I’m walking with my ex. The criminal. The convict. The man who just served ten years in prison.

Outside it’s pitch black.

Inside the garage there’s light.

I’m walking with Corbin from the darkness into the light.

Which seems so fitting and exciting in some ways.

But in others… it feels opposite.

Corbin is going to drag me into the depths of his hell and hold me hostage there for as long as possible.