Page 30 of Room Six

I’m home. Waited for Rune but he didn’t show up. Hope all is ok. Much love.

I wait but only get silence in return. That is not like them. I message and someone answers in seconds.

Fear rears its ugly head. My conversation with Raja comes to mind.

Was the flower a send off? Like a thanks for the fun and we loved toying with your emotions?

I can’t go there just because they are busy and can’t answer the phone. My heart hurts for no real reason. It’s ludicrous to think they need to live by their phone in case I call.

I need a shower and some downtime, anyway. Sleep. God, do I need sleep. I check the front door locks, head for the kitchen for a glass of water, and turn to my bedroom when my phone rings.

I pick it up hurriedly. “Hey babe! Is everything okay?” I don’t know which of the men it is and don’t care. The flood of relief that fills me is very telling, but I will reflect on how much I’ve grown attached to them later. After they come over and ravish me from head to toe.

“Magnolia, I missed you too, baby girl. Do you want to come and see daddy? I have longed for this day. I hope you have too, sweet thing. Did you like my gift?”

The nasally, sweet voice makes my heart constrict.

My blood runs cold and I hang up the phone. I check the number. It’s a private caller. Dots fill my vision. Acid burns the back of my throat and my knees are so weak I have to sit down. Trembling fingers make it hard to dial, but I manage to get the front desk.

I wrangle the fear in my voice. “Security, there’s been a breach. Someone has entered the building and I need every level checked for a man with brown hair, brown eyes and a scar over his left cheek. Consider him dangerous.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I hang up and call the cops next. The first thing I did when I arrived in the city was contact the police department and tell them my story and why a man named Einar Weston would be at the top of the suspect list, should I ever go missing. Am I a little over the top? Fuck yes, but I enjoy living and I watch all those true crime shows. I don’t feel so paranoid now.

It takes two hours before the security team on Club Sin’s payroll and a couple of seasoned cops clear the entire twenty-three floor apartment building.

A female cop comes out of my bedroom replacing her weapon while her partner comes back in from the outside hallway with his notepad out. “It’s all clear, ma’am.”

“Thank you, Officer.” The idea Weston could be in here the whole time has me freaking the hell out.

Her partner takes out a card and puts it on the dining table next to my phone. “Call us if you have any more trouble. You were smart to call the first time, too. Someone matching the stature of Mr. Weston entered the building wearing a cleaning service uniform. We couldn’t see his face, or any identifying markings, but there was no scheduled cleaning crew for today.”

The freaking security guy likes to sleep on the job. As of tomorrow, he will be looking for alternative employment without a recommendation. I’ll personally see to it.

And with that I’m all alone again. I triple check the locks and shove a chair under the handle just to make sure.

I got little sleep that night or for the next ten days. I’ve grown to hate the bags under my eyes and the dark circles that take a tone of make-up to hide.

Another week later and Christmas is over and New Year’s is spent in front of the TV binge watching crime shows with either pizza or ice cream as my companion. I go to work, have security escort me to my car and another escort see me to my apartment after checking it. I can’t live like this anymore. I just can’t.

I toss my spoon on the living room coffee table and shut off the flatscreen. Silence cocoons me. It terrifies me how much I’ve grown dependent on the likes of Danika’s lingering touches. Oliver’s comforting silence and Rune’s raw need to be filling me with his seed.

I toss a small blanket from my legs and head to my bedroom. I pull a suitcase from under my bed and start packing. I catch my reflection in my vanity mirror and cringe. Shaggy hair, no makeup. Zombies look better than me.

I don’t recognize who I’ve become. I grab the bedside telephone and throw it into the glass. Millions of pieces shatter onto the marble floor. Rune once liked to use that mirror to watch himself fuck me.

Liked, as in past tense. Never happening again. He’ll never touch me again. That era of my life is over.

I have only a few days left before I have to give Raja a name for the New Orleans position and I haven't even looked at anyone’s resume yet.

I grab my cell phone. If this is ghosting, I don’t like it one bit. I guess they fulfilled their thirst for their kink of coming in a willing woman and playing house until they grew tired.

I pull up Raja's name and shoot off a message.

If you still want me, I’m in for Nola!

I hit SEND and almost immediately I receive a message back.

---