“It's a long story,” I begin. “But a few weeks ago, a guy made me think he was someone else, and then he trapped me in the car with him. He held me down, and—” my voice starts cracking as I try to finish the sentence, “and he raped me. Then he told me how he's going to come for me, and lock me away, and—and I don’t know the fuck what. Anyway, he has a tattoo on his arm of bluebonnets.” My heart is racing, but for some reason, saying it out loud feels like a relief.
“Who’she?” AJ growls.
I take a deep breath, preparing to tear open the wound again for someone else.
“The guy who murdered my sister.”
The silence returns. But I can hear AJ barely breathing on the other end of the phone.
“I don't know who you are,” I continue. “I've never seen your face. And now I don't know if I want to. I can’t talk to you anymore until I know that you’re not…” I trail off, clenching my jaw in frustration.
“Ry…” he drawls, almost painfully.
My voice suddenly turns hectic. “Does it ever bother you that you don’t see my face, either?”
“Of course,” he replies. “But I know your reasons for doing what you do.”
Well, now they’ve changed. Fake names and masked personas no longer offer the freedom they used to. Maybe this is it. Maybe I’m the first one to blink in our proverbial staring contest to see how long someone can have an anonymous friend on the Internet before they can’t stand the suspense.
Or maybe AJ’s not who he says he is. Maybe he’s some con. If he’s not Bowen infiltrating every aspect of my life, maybe he’s one of Bowen’s pals who’s been keeping tabs on me. The thought is enough to make my stomach turn.
“I’m coming to see you,” AJ finally says.
“What?” I croak in astonishment.
I am not prepared for this response.
“You’re still going to GalactiCon, right?”
“Yeah?” It’s only the biggest gaming convention in the region, and my friends and I made sure to get tickets.
“I’ll be there. Just give me until then.”
I listen to the sound of my own breaths, over and over while I mull over his proposal. I don’t want my suspicions to be correct. I want AJ to be AJ—my AJ.I want him to be who he says he is. And as much as I don’t want to admit it, I want him to remain my escape. Because that’s what he’s been for the past three years. For some reason, AJ’s anonymity brings me more comfort than most people I see every day. Part of me doesn’t want him to be real just yet. I couldn’t bear it if it turned out he’s…
“GalactiCon,” I agree. “But that’s it. If you’re not there—”
“Baby, I’ll be there. I promise.”
His sudden term of endearment catches me off-guard and renders me speechless. He’s never said anything like that. It’s usually cursing and laughing and shit-talking. And I don’t know what to say except, “OK.”
“OK,” he echoes. “Let me know when you land tomorrow?”
“Sure,” I agree, but unsure whether his promise quells my anxiety.
After I end the call, the realization quickly sets in that things have changed in a fundamental way. How the fuck can AJ remain my confidante while I’m simultaneously suspicious of him? That’s another level of insanity altogether.
But I can’t think about this right now, I need to finish packing and get in the zone. I’m supposed to log on soon to playDark Souls.After throwing a hoodie on top of the pile, I zip my suitcase and grab my headset.
How many lives can I live at the same time?
To Shelby, Maddie, Carter, and even Austin, the male profile and the voice mod is a way for me to freely interact without anyone knowing that I’m a woman. Still problematic, yes, but this is the world I live in. There’s also another reason they aren’t privy to; one with a more deliberate goal in mind.
As soon as I see the familiar handle show up on my screen, I confirm my settings and start recording.
Get your head in the game and deal with the mindfuck later.
“Hey, Bo.”