Bait

This is her home now.

But it’s not that fucking simple. If only it was.

Her words are still ricocheting around my soul. Those festering questions that hang in dusty corners, they’re all right there, spoken aloud between us.

Things can’t just go back to the way they were before.

She looks uncharacteristically meek as she steps out to join me.

“He’s fast asleep,” she whispers and closes his door gently.

“I could do with heading out for a while,” I say as we head downstairs. “But I can stay in. I don’t want to impose.”

She falls over herself to tell me it’s ok. Her eyes are curious but happy. Asking silent questions that I’m not ready to answer and maybe never will be.

I’m not sure meeting a stranger online for brutal sex in dark alleyways classes as potential relationship material.

Relationship.

Even the word brings me out in a cold sweat.

“Go,” Serena says. “Take a break. Enjoy yourself. I’ll take care of Cam. I’m just happy to be back home.” She pauses. “Even if it’s just for a night.”

I have no answer to that.

I wish I could cut through my own baggage enough to tell her I’m happy too.

I wish I could forget that she had that sonofabitch in my house behind my back.

Like she’s the first woman to have Jake here behind my back.

I shunt that little gem of bitterness right back into the depths.

And then I grab my jacket.SixteenOnce upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary.

Edgar Allan PoePhoenixHereford isn’t familiar turf. I rely on satnav to reach the address I found listed for Abigail Rachel Summers on the electoral roll, and then I lap the block a few times to get my bearings.

Her apartment building is a rickety period place, just a stone’s throw from the town centre. I park up in an unloading bay around the corner and scope it out on foot. The communal entrance shows six apartments listed. Six apartments, three floors. The view through the glass door is just enough to see the numbers on the the bottom two apartment doors.

Number one is on the left. Two on the right.

It’s easy to assume they continue up in the same pattern.

Hers is number four.

One floor up on the right hand side.

I step back and look up at the window. Twilight makes it easy to tell the light is on, but I see nothing to confirm my suspicion it’s her place. The walls look plain through the window. No trinkets on the sill.

I hang back, staring right up there from across the street.

So close. She’s so fucking close. I want to see her. Catch a glimpse of her.

I want to taste her, impale that sweet little cunt again and again.

I have no rein on the beast in my belly as it throbs and stirs. My dick is already straining in my jeans, my pulse already quickening.

Part of me considers heading up there and beating her door down before midnight is anywhere near.

It’s tempting, but no. I save that idea for another day.

Another day.

I’m already thinking about this crazy arrangement as if it has some kind of longevity.

It should freak me the fuck out, but it doesn’t.

I focus back on the night ahead of me. Of us. Tonight is all about the hunt. The chase. The thrill of the pulse in my ears as my boots pound the ground after her. Grabbing her in the dark, muffling her screams. My dick twitches in sweet anticipation.

I call up a map on my phone, examining how the streets branch out from here. To the left is the main bulk of civilisation. Streetlights and clubs and cameras. To the right is the cathedral. Cobbled lanes and shady grounds. Beyond that looks to be parkland. I zoom in closer and realise it’s a sprawl of playing fields.

The river runs next to them.

The river path ends up on the outskirts. I follow it with my finger and zoom where the streets have thinned out. A pub on the corner. A few houses nearby from the looks. Not a lot else.

My senses prickle. This is perfect.

I’m back in my truck in a heartbeat, destination set. Sure enough, the streets thin out as I drive. The pub is still open when I get there but won’t be for long. The car park is deserted.

I park up in the spot closest to the river and grab a torch. The path is just where I expect. A gap in the fence leads right down to the water. It’s dark here. Treacherous. Perfect.

I’ll herd her right the way through the shadows, straight to my waiting truck. She’ll have no fucking idea until it’s too late. I’ll just have to grab her at the right spot.

I do a 360.

Right… here. I make a mental note of it. Of the tree looming overhead. The dull streetlamp positioned over the pub fencing.