Page 15 of Backstroke

Nix fished her phone from the pool, droplets cascading off its sleek surface. The water damage rendered it useless, leaving me with no way to track her down. My obsession with her gnaws atme, a relentless itch I can’t scratch. She keeps slipping through my fingers, always one step ahead.

I’ve never met a girl who didn’t instantly fall to their knees for me. That is part of her allure.

The challenge.

The chase.

I can’t deny the primal hunger that surges within me—a need to dominate her, to possess her entirely, until my essence is imprinted on her soul.

“Remy, I hooked my computer to the phone and was able to get some info from it. I’m trying to get through the password protected files now,” Nix hands me a note with her full name.Fallon Monroe.Seeing her name sends adrenaline coursing through my body.

“Why do you even want anything to do with this chick?” he questions. He knows me. He knows I never go back for more.

“Because she decided to play with fire, and now it’s time for her to be burned,” I smirk as I jump up from the couch and head toward the door. Nix follows, a skeptical look on his face.

“Remy, are you sure about this? You’re acting weird, man. This girl’s got you all twisted up.”

I pause, the weight of his words sinking in. He’s right. Fallon is different. I never cared about the girls I used, they were just fleeting distractions. But Fallon… she has gotten under my skin. The thought of her consumes me, and I hate that she has this power over me. It’s infuriating and exhilarating all at once. I need to control her, to make her mine, but a part of me wonders if I’m the one being controlled.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” I lie, pushing the doubts aside. “Let’s go.”

Nix sighs, but doesn’t argue further. We head out, the campus eerily quiet on a Sunday morning. My mind races with thoughts of Fallon Monroe. I imagine her on her knees in front of me, her defiance melting away, replaced by a raw,undeniable connection. The thought of her whimpers, the way she surrendered to the moment, sends a shiver down my spine.

No matter how much I want it to be, it isn’t just about the physical. There is something deeper, something that makes me want to understand her, to break through her defenses, to see the real Fallon. It’s a dangerous game, one that could consume us both.

As we walk through the deserted campus, I can’t shake the feeling that this is more than just a pursuit. It’s a battle for control, and I’m determined to come out on top.

We reach the admissions office, and I peer through the glass doors. Locked, as expected. I pull out my phone, dialing the only person I know that can help.

“Hey, it’s Remy. I need a favor,” I say, when the line connects. “Yeah, I need access to the admissions records. Can you get me in?”

There’s a pause on the other end before a reluctant agreement. “Fine, but this is you cashing in.”

“Deal,” I reply, hanging up. I turn to Nix with a grin. “We’re in.”

We wait in the shadows, keeping an eye out for any campus security. After a few tense minutes, a figure approaches and unlocks the door. It’s Jake, a tech-savvy senior who owes me a favor for getting the Dean off his back for hacking into the student portal to change grades. Admittedly, he was doing it for a member on the swim team so they didn’t get booted, persuading me to use my power to get him off the hook.

“You’re lucky I like you, Remy,” Jake mutters as he pushes the door open. “You have ten minutes.”

“Thanks, man,” I reply, slipping inside with Nix. The office is dimly lit, rows of filing cabinets and computers lining the walls. Jake heads straight for the computers and starts typing furiously.

“What’s the name?” he asks.

“Fallon Monroe,” I snap, making him stop to look at me.

“What?” I bark. Without answering, Jake continues his incessant typing.

“Got it. She’s a freshman, majoring in Psychology. Dorms in Willowbrook Hall, room 514.”

I grab a piece of paper and jot down the details. “Perfect. Thanks.” He gives me a wary look. “I assume you want everything in here?” he asks.

“Email it,” I demand. He opens his mouth to say something then snaps it back shut.

“Spill it,” I grit.

“It’s just, this isn’t like you. What are you up to?” My hand curls around Jake’s throat. He may be older but I’m bigger, and this little geek is about to get on my wrong side.

“This doesn’t concern you. I have the information, so you are no longer needed.” He nods, then drops to the floor after I release my grip.

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