Page 14 of Monstrous Urges

You wouldn’t believe me…

“Nothing,” I blurt, lying through my teeth. “I was going to meet up with someone and then chickened out.” I sigh. “There, happy?”

Fumi smiles wryly as she reaches over the desk and squeezes my hand. “Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to push anything. Or maybe, just go on a normal dating site? Tinder or Bumble or something? They kinda seem like less pressure and not as intense as Venom.”

I sigh. “Yeah, except… I don’t know. Those fucking apps…” I cringe. “They’re awful.”

“T,” she drawls. “You’re a boss bitch. You know that, right? I mean, you’re thirty-three and you run a law firm. And not a strip mall one either. One of the biggest and most prestigious firms in New York. You’re rich, you’re in charge, you’re hot…” She shrugs. “Plus you drive a sexy as fuck car.” She eyes me. “Let them come to you. Let them come begging to take you out.”

“Yeah, no, solid advice,” I reply on autopilot as my brain starts to drift.

Except, I don’t want them to come to me.

I want them to chase me.

And hunt me.

And hurt me.

Paging Dr. Jesnick…

“Can I ask you something?”

I lift my eyes to Fumi. “Sure.”

“You said you chickened out last night on someone you were going to meet?”

I nod. Fumi peers at me.

“Why?”

My brows furrow. “Why…?”

“Why do you think you chickened out?”

Because I’m afraid of what I am. Because I’m terrified of setting free the darkness that lurks inside me, wanting things I shouldn’t want and giving me urges to go into the fucking woods at night…

I shrug noncommittally. “I don’t know.”

“Prosecution asks to approach the bench, your honor.”

I snort, rolling my eyes. “Go ahead, say it.”

“Say what?” she smirks.

“Whatever sagely little pearl of wisdom you’re dying to throw at me.”

“Well,” Fumi sighs. “Being one of your best friends, I think it’s fair to say I know you pretty well. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m sure there’s a whole part of you that you keep hidden and never want to talk about.”

I scowl. “There is not!”

“Taylor.”

I exhale, drumming my fingers on the desk. “Okay, I’ll give you that one.”

“Yeah, because I’m right,” she snickers. “Anyway. Without knowing the details of this date that didn’t happen, since I’m guessing there’s a zero percent chance of you sharing those…”

“Correct.”

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