Page 74 of Caution Tape

With that, I walk away. I don’t even turn back.

I know that she’ll be there.

She might even be early.

I’ll admit it; I’m anxious.

It’s 8:52 p.m. and the house is eerily still, like it’s waiting patiently to watch what we are about to do. Nolan seems unbothered; he goes into Michael’s office and starts spinning around in the chair, twirling a pen between his fingers.

I’m hoping Natalie does as she’s told. There’s a pit of unease in my stomach as I wait near the door, checking the window for her every time I think I hear a car.

What if she shows up and isn’t wearing a mask? What if she wants to talk to Nolan? If she shows up vulnerable and crying, this will all fall apart.

What if Nolan doesn’t want to kill her? What if he takes it as a betrayal and tries to kill me? Fuck it, he might kill us all. He might give up trying to stay ahead of the police and just paint the walls with our blood.

That’s not it, is it Cora? You’re worried he might actually like her. Just a little. He might like that innocence in her; that innocence you never, ever had.

Headlights flare across the windows.

“Nolan,” I say sharply. “Bedroom. Wait for us there.”

He ambles out of Michael’s office, scratching his head. He’s wearing a dark sweater that clings to him tightly and loose jeans that hang low on his hips. His black hair is tangled and messy; he looks etched out of a Calvin Klein ad. “You know that there’s a lot of bloodstains in there? I tried cleaning them but uh, it didn’t help much.”

“Cover them with blankets or something. “

He shrugs and wanders away. In that instance, he seems almost normal. Like any other guy with a slightly demanding girlfriend.

There’s a meek knock at the door. I fix my hair and examine myself quickly in the mirror in the hall. I’m wearing a black corset with frilly black panties. Boots that hug the top of my knees. My hair is drawn back, and I’ve put on a pair of large hoop earrings.

Nolan hasn’t complimented me yet. He seems distant. Distracted. And I hate that I notice. And I really hate that I care.

Natalie steps in and as she sets down her bag and takes off her long coat, it is clear she came to play. Her corset is sleek and cinches at her waist tighter than I thought possible. Her makeup is flawless, and her hair is done into pigtails. She’s wearing fishnet leggings that crisscross her legs as her thighs strain against them. Her boots go up further than mine, and that bothers me. I hear the heels clunk on the hardwood floor.

“Nice outfit,” I tease. “I guess I’m not the only whore, huh?”

She glares at me. “How is this going to work?”

“You brought a mask?”

She nods.

“Put it on.” I pull out a long chain with a collar at the end. “Then put this on.”

“Oh, come on.”

“If it’s too much for you, you can leave. I’ll wear it for him. He’ll love it.”

She edges around me, looking deeper into the house, hoping to get a glimpse of him.

“Does he know I’m here?”

I close the gap between us, grabbing either side of her hips and pulling her directly against me. She pulls back slightly, her face drawn in agonizing confusion. I sway my body slowly against hers, the fabric of our outfits rasping against each other.

“Natalie, imagine this. I bring him a masked girl on a leash. A girl who will do anything he says.” Natalie’s perfume, vanilla and coconut, smells sweet and alluring. The smooth skin of her bare shoulders looks so inviting, I want to press my lips against it. “Then when he’s done fucking the living hell out of this obedient slut, he takes the mask off to come on those pretty lips,” I kiss her, gently, feeling her freeze in shock, “and realizes it’s you.”

“Um—“

“Boring old Natalie has a different side he’s never seen. A side that matches his. You think he’ll let you go after that? Even I see how good you look right now, and I fucking hate you.”

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