Once I was home, I threw on sweats, ordered dinner for one, and then watched the news while I ate. I finished whatever I’d been eating and got up to take my plate into the kitchen, making myself a stiff drink, when there was a knock at the door. I felt my heart palpitate in my chest, excited at the idea of R standing on the other side. She must have decided to take me up on my drink offer.
“I thought you were…” I swung the door open, ready to kiss her stupid. The smirk on my face drained when my eyes set on the last person I expected to see on the other side of my doorway.
“Hello, handsome.”
Her fiery hair was pinned back in a tight bun, lips cherry red, eyes focused on me. She clung to her black coat, her hooker pump tapping on the hallway floor.
The Red Plague.
This might be where your eyes roll deep into your sockets. Of course, she rears her ugly head. You have to have drama and tension. An antagonist to shake things up. Honestly, I wish it was some juicy plot twist. But this was real. This was L. She had a knack for slithering into my life when I was finally getting back to normal—to wreak havoc. Catfishing, spreading rumors, stalking me.
She didn’t want me.
She didn’t want anyone else to either.
“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” she asked. Like she hadn’t ripped my heart out and shit on it.
“Why the fuck would I do that?” I crossed my arms over my chest and widened my stance. I wanted her to know she was unwanted.
“I want to talk about what happened, and you want to understand. A few measly minutes. Come on.”
I groaned in my head. “Five minutes.”
I was curious about what she could possibly say that would explain her unexplainable behavior.
She brushed past me. Her stilettos clacked across the hardwood floor at a casual tempo. I shut the door and followed her into the living room, forced to focus on her round ass. She had a confident strut, moving her hips with the effortless fluidity of water. When she reached the back of my couch, she faced me, half sitting, half leaning into it. Her fishnet stockings peeking out from the slit in her coat.
“You look good,” she complimented me with a cool flirtation.
I watched her, mouth shut, arms folded, guard up. I wouldn’t give her an inch.
“Four minutes, fifty seconds.”
She regarded the old renovated warehouse. A far-off fog of remembrance in her eyes.
“I miss you.” She pushed herself away from the couch and swaggered over to me, stopping close enough for me to smell the floral scent of her perfume, my favorite perfume. She refused to wear it in the final months of our relationship. Looking back, it was a clue in a long string of clues. Her love faded. And yet there she was, thawing out her frozen heart to me.
“Who’s reigning in Hell if you’re here?”
“Sticks and stones, baby. Sticks and stones.”
She ran her fingernail down my forearm, smiling at the skeleton key tattoo with wicked intent in her expression. Fire and brimstone in her eyes, scorching my skin. Wishing her fangs were sunk into it while I fucked her to climax like she’d done time and time again. I knew her. Thought I did anyway.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” she confessed in a wispy voice, elevating her eyes to mine.
In that moment, I pictured R’s, heavy-lidded, a perpetual take-me-to-bed stare. I pictured the pink tint of her lips, curled in a permanent smirk.
I stepped back.
Not today, Satan.
I sneered at her. “I’m waiting for that explanation. And you have four minutes and twenty seconds.”
“What do you want me to say?” she asked.
“You’re fucking with me, right? How about I’m sorry? I’m sorry for cheating, for stabbing you in the back, for betraying your trust, for disrespecting you on every level someone could disrespect another. Take your fucking pick.”
She stiffened. “We both…”
“Fuck you. I never screwed other women. You spread your thighs for half of Philadelphia. Don’t play innocent. I learned about your career as a professional sugar baby.”
That was particularly humiliating. My supposed friend finally fessed up about L’s indiscretions. Apparently, it had been a well-known secret amongst our circle of friends. Fuck them too.
She moved in, dragging her claws up my chest.
“Master…”
“Don’t.” I caught her wrists, cuffing them together with my hands. “Don’t you fucking dare. You aren’t permitted to address me by that name. That’s reserved for my subs.”
She must’ve enjoyed it because she moaned and pressed herself into me.
“Tell me you don’t miss it. Tell me you don’t miss us. Lie to me, please.”
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