4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Hydessa

T he club is already bustling when I arrive, music thumping and lights flashing in sync with the beats. I'm instantly let in, the bouncers only seeing my twin when they look at me. I chose this club because I know it's one she frequents.

Seanna is known as a party girl and she owns the attention she draws. It's nice to pretend to be her because only then do I feel like I can embrace my confidence.

Letting myself get lost in the crowd, I dance and move as though I don't have a care in the world. Just like her.

It's almost freeing to shed my usual demeanor and embrace this carefree persona that Seanna wears so easily, even if just for a little while. Once the thrum that was buzzing under my skin begins to dull, I head to the bar to grab some water. I'm not here to get drunk, just fucked.

I smile as I lean over the bar, making sure to show off my assets to the men near me. It's humorous to me how easy it is to draw a mans attention at a place like this. They are here for one reason, and tonight it just so happens that I am here for the same one. Well, that and dancing.

There is something about the way the music pounding through me almost helps regulate my heartbeat, slowing it down so the world feels easier to absorb. The flashing lights, the dark dance floor, and the way you are surrounded by people who are all moving to the same beat is freeing.

Making small talk with a few strangers, I enjoy the anonymity and the temporary escape from reality. I let some of their touches linger until I find the right vibe. I've found it's important to see how men will treat me before I take them somewhere. Are they quick to touch and pushy if I try to remove their hands from me? Do they pull me in and refuse to let go when I try to step back? Or do they look and don't touch until I lead them to?

It isn't long before I'm back on the darkened dance floor, letting my own identity get lost in the crowd.. I don't bother looking too closely at the nameless faces surrounding me—it's too dark anyway. Before the second song is over, there are hands gripping my hips from behind. He seems almost hesitant at first, not even pressing his body against mine, but I can feel him trying to match my movements.

Slowly, when I lean back into him, he pulls our bodies together, and I feel a hard chest against my back. Sweat prickles at my face and neck as the temperature rises. I can now feel every inch of the man holding me, his body much taller than mine by about a foot.

Reaching back, I wrap my hands around his neck as his hands slide further around the front of my body. One hand rests just under my breast while the other hovers dangerously close to my pussy, but I don't care—this is exactly what I want.

The movement of our bodies against one another has my whole body heating up and turned on. I needed this escape, and I'm finally about to get it. Grinding my ass back harder against his cock, I move to the music. He groans deep in my ear, bringing his hand up to twist my face around to meet his lips. It's not the best angle, and the kiss is harsh and messy, but I don't care. The urgency and intensity only adds to the thrill, making my heart race faster.

When I surrender to his lips, he tightens his grip, pulling me closer. Then his mouth is trailing down, his breath hot against my neck.

"You're incredible," he murmurs into my ear, his voice low and rough. I shiver at his words, feeling a thrill of excitement rush through me. Letting myself get lost in the moment, I forget all about the investigation, the island, and everything else. Right now, all that matters is the pulsating music, the heat of this strangers body against mine, and the intoxicating feeling of being desired.

His hands start to explore more boldly, one moving to cup my breast while the other slips under my dress, fingertips brushing against my thigh. I arch my back, pressing even harder against him, relishing the friction and the sensation of his growing hardness. He takes the hint, his hand slipping further up until he's teasing me through the fabric of my underwear.

I moan softly, the sound drowned out by the music, and turn my head to capture his lips in another fierce kiss. His hand finally pushes the fabric aside, fingers sliding against my wet heat. The sensation is electric, my pussy now throbbing to the beat of a different song. I grind against his hand, desperate for more.

Without breaking our rhythm, he maneuvers us off the dance floor and towards a dark hallway at the back of the club. He opens a door to what I can faintly see is a storage room. When he goes to turn on the light, I quickly say, "No lights."

He chuckles before pulling me back into him and whispering, "Will you at least tell me your name?"

"Seanna," I respond instantly, and he repeats it softly, but I don't really want soft. I don't bother asking his name; I don't want to know it.

The moment I manage to find the front of his pants in the dark, he grunts as I start working on opening them and freeing his hard cock. He swiftly takes back control the moment my hand wraps around his length and moves me so that my back is pressed to a free section of the wall.

I nearly let out a whimper when he tilts my face up to meet his lips. He kisses me quickly before I hear the sound of him opening a condom wrapper. Moments later, he's lifting me by the backs of my thighs while pulling up my dress. I move my panties to the side just in time for him to line his cock up to my pussy. My head falls back against the wall when he finally sinks inside of me.

The height advantage allows him to press deep, and I wrap my legs around his waist to lock my ankles and pull him closer. The music from the club outside is muffled here, but the bass still thrums through the walls, adding to the intense rhythm between us.

My hands clutch at his shoulders, nails digging in slightly as he begins to thrust. Every movement is driven by a mix of desire and urgency, each thrust pushing me toward the edge. He keeps one hand braced against the wall for support, the other gripping my thigh to keep me in place. His mouth finds mine again, and our kisses are a chaotic mix of teeth and tongues.

"God, Seanna," he mutters, his voice rough with need against my lips. "You feel so good."

The dark, confined space heightens every sensation. The concrete against my back suddenly jolts me into the past, right into the memory of holding my gun and aiming it at the murderer. The way the breeze blew against me, almost as if nature itself was encouraging me forward.

My hands ball into fists in the stranger's shirt as I forget all about him. All I can think of is how much I had wished I had a knife in my hand instead of that damn gun. How I yearned to stab him with it and watch as his eyes widened in horror, seeing the same darkness he used upon his victims reflected in my eyes as he took his final breaths.

His blood would splatter across the pavement as the beast within me took over, delivering the sweetest kind of justice there is. Death.

"Does that feel good?" The man's voice rips me from my daydream, ruining all of the momentum my body was beginning to build.

Was I about to come thinking of murder?

I clench my teeth as I try to push that thought away. Instead of responding to him with words, I tighten my legs around him, wanting him to go deeper, harder. I need the pain. I need to feel this deep within my dark soul. The rhythm of his thrusts becomes more insistent, more demanding.

Each movement pushes me closer and closer, but something isn't quite right. The friction, the heat, it's all there, but the final peak remains just out of reach. I can feel him getting closer, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps against my neck. My body responds to his intensity, but it's as if my release requires something more.

His pace quickens, and I can sense his climax approaching. With a final, deep thrust, he shudders against me, a low groan escaping his lips as he pulses inside me. His grip on my thighs tightens momentarily before he relaxes, breathless and spent.

I try to steady my breathing, frustration bubbling up from deep inside me because this is not what I needed. I did not come out here tonight to be teased and brought to the edge just so some stranger could get off instead.

He pulls back slightly, his lips brushing against my ear. "That was incredible," he whispers, his voice filled with satisfaction. "Did you come?"

Seriously, if you need to ask, then you already have your answer.

I force a smile that he can't really see, not wanting to ruin the moment for him because that's the kind of person I am. "Yeah," I reply, my voice a bit hollow. "It was great."

He lowers me gently to the ground, both of us adjusting our clothes in the darkness. The intimacy of the moment is already vanishing, my mind is already drifting back to reality, to the investigation, and to the nagging feeling of dissatisfaction that makes me want to scream.

He lingers for a moment, probably expecting more, maybe a conversation or a cuddle, but I can't stand to prolong this any further. I offer a polite nod and a faint smile before slipping out of the room. The thumping bass of the club instantly engulfs me, providing a much-needed distraction from the hollow ache inside.

As I make my way through the crowded club, I feel a surge of frustration. The whole point of coming out, of pretending, it was supposed to make me feel better. It was supposed to satisfy me and clear my mind for what is to come. I shove through the throng of bodies, ignoring the curious glances and the occasional touch from strangers. The pulsating lights and the pounding music blur into a cacophony of sensations, only heightening my agitation. Everything about the club suddenly feels suffocating. I need to get out, to breathe, to find clarity.

Finally, I burst through the exit and into the cool night air. The relative silence outside is a stark contrast to the chaos inside, and I take a deep breath, savoring the coolness as it fills my lungs. For a moment, I just stand there, letting the tension slowly seep out of my body.

But it doesn't last long. The annoyance of my failed mission still simmers beneath the surface, a constant reminder of the confusion I can't seem to escape. I have to grit my teeth and dig my nails into my palm just to make my feet carry me forward.

I start walking towards my car, each step heavy with the weight of my thoughts. The streets are relatively quiet, the distant hum of the city providing a stark contrast to the pulsating energy of the club.

When I reach my car, I pause for a moment, leaning against the door and letting out a deep, weary sigh. The cool metal under my fingertips feels grounding, a small anchor in the whirlwind of my mind. I unlock the car and slide into the driver's seat, the familiar scent and feel of the interior providing a small measure of comfort.

Sitting there for a moment, I let my hands rest on the steering wheel with my eyes closed. The night's events replay in my mind, the anger of the encounter in the storage room mingling with the weight of everything else in my life. I need to get home, to sleep, to clear my head and regroup.

This was supposed to make me feel better. All I had to do was pretend long enough for someone to make me come and then I could go to sleep peacefully without a thousand thoughts in my head.

Turning the key in the ignition, the engine roars to life, and I pull out onto the quiet street. The drive home is uneventful, the city lights blurring past as my mind drifts. I focus on the road, on the rhythmic hum of the tires against the asphalt, trying to push away the lingering dissatisfaction.

Finally, I arrive back at the cabin, the familiar sight of it offering a sense of relief. I park the car and step out into the crisp night air. The silence here is a welcome change from the sounds of the city.

The door creaks softly as I push it open, making my way inside. I kick off my shoes and head straight for the bathroom, stripping along the way and throwing my panties in the trash, the lingering smell of the man from earlier already souring my stomach.

Turning on the shower, I let the water heat up before stepping in. Once the bathroom begins to steam up, I allow the hot spray to help soothe my tired muscles. Maybe this is what I need instead of running into the city for release. I'm not Senna and I think I need to stop pretending to be in order to get some relief. The encounter in the club now feels like a distant memory, replaced by a sense of emptiness and longing.

As I scrub my skin clean, I try to push away the nagging thoughts that threaten to consume me. But right now, all I can think about is the hollow ache inside, the emptiness that only seems to grow with each passing day.

Eventually, I step out of the shower and wrap myself in a towel, the steam from the bathroom swirling around me. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, my black hair hanging limply down my back and my blue eyes looking overly large against my pale skin.

Shaking my head at myself, I quickly dry off and pull on a clean sleep shirt and underwear. Padding barefoot into the kitchen, I pour myself a half glass of wine, hoping that it will work to take the edge off instead. Carrying the glass and my phone to the couch, I curl up with my legs underneath me, gazing out through the large glass windows at Seanna's cabin.

A soft light shines in her living room. As I hit dial on my phone, I watch as her shadow approaches the window, looking back toward mine. The phone barely rings before it's picked up, but she doesn't speak first.

"If I hide…" I whisper into the phone.

"Then I'll seek…" comes her reply, her voice holding a mixture of concern and curiosity. "Are you okay?"

I take a deep breath and blow it out slowly. "No, I'm not," I admit quietly, my voice barely above a whisper. "I... I went to the club tonight."

There's a moment of silence on the other end of the line, and I can almost hear Seanna processing my words. "The club?" she repeats, her voice laced with surprise. "Why?"

"I'm leaving on an investigation tomorrow. It was a... distraction," I reply, the words feeling heavy on my tongue. "I needed to escape, even just for a moment."

Seanna's concern deepens, her voice softening. "And did it help, pretending to be someone else for a while?" she asks gently, knowing the answer before I even speak it. Seanna is aware of me using her name when I need to, but she also knows that it's my way of escaping myself sometimes.

"No," I admit, feeling a lump form in my throat. I recount the encounter I had with the man at the club as she listens patiently. "It just made everything... worse. I feel so... lost, Seanna."

There's a heavy sigh from the other end of the line, followed by a pause as Seanna gathers her thoughts. "I'm here for you, you know that, right?" she says finally. "Our parents already told me all about you heading out tomorrow, by the way. Maybe this investigation is what you need."

"What do you mean?" I ask, confusion lacing my voice as I try to make sense of her words.

Seanna lets out a soft chuckle, her tone gentle yet firm. "Think about it. It's a small island, and you need to be discreet. When in Rome, as they say... take the time to maybe live a normal life for a little while. You're on vacation, so have a vacation. I mean, obviously, you'll have to do your thing at night, but you know what I mean."

Her words sink in slowly, and I find myself nodding despite the lingering uncertainty. Maybe she's right. Maybe I do need a break from the constant chaos of my life, a chance to breathe and just... be. No back to back investigations that keep me up until the early hours of the morning only to arrest a murderer, only for it to take years for the case to go to trial before they're finally put away.

"Yeah," I reply softly, a small smile tugging at the corners of my lips when I realize I get to do everything on the island my way. "Maybe you're right. Thanks, Seanna."

"Anytime," she says warmly. "Now, get some rest. You've got a big day ahead of you tomorrow."

With Seanna's words echoing in my mind, I end the call and stand up, watching as she moves away from her window and further into her cabin. Finishing the last of my wine and turning back toward the kitchen, a strange shadow catches my attention just outside the window above my sink.

Frowning, I move closer, but there's no movement, just shadows and darkness. An eerie feeling settles over me as I continue to stare.

Come out, come out wherever you are. Seanna's voice echoes in my mind from when we used to play as kids. Hide and seek has always been our thing, but Seanna never liked to hide and I never liked to seek, so we kept our roles the same even when our parents tried to encourage us to take turns.

It would never work though. Seanna hates small spaces and putting her bright personality in a secret place never sat well with her. For me, being out in the open felt too vulnerable, like someone could jump out from behind a corner at any moment.

The shadows outside stay perfectly still and eventually I sigh, realizing my imagination is in overdrive. Moving to the kitchen, I rinse the empty glass before double checking all the locks and turning off the lights as I make my way to my bedroom.

Sliding between the cool sheets I contemplate taking my frustrations into my own hands, but quickly dismiss the idea for the night. I don't want to be even more frustrated if I couldn't even get myself there. So instead, I close my eyes and wish for sleep to help me hide for just a little while.