Page 19 of Lust

“Cum all over your tits while you suck my balls” is a particularly vivid highlight. I try, and fail, to imagine the logistics of this particular act.

Delilah. The name sounds familiar. And then it hits me: the waitress from yesterday. I don’t even have to scrutinize her profile pictures to be sure that she’s one and the same. Brent’s pictures, on the other hand, are over a decade old.

What could compel a beautiful girl like her to fall for someone like him? The answer isn’t hard to find. She’s kind, she’s thoughtful, and she has a kid. A seven-year-old boy. He’s her world, and no doubt her greatest vulnerability. She probably thinks she has to settle. Even for a selfish, cheating prick like Brent.

But when she waited on him the other day, there was no hint of recognition in her voice. So this asshole is creeping on his online mistress at her job and she doesn’t even know it. Which means they’ve never met in person.

I file all of this information away for future reference. Maybe it will help me with my plan. First, however, after I drop off Ruby’s next gift, I’ll head up to Hawk Ridge. There’s an item on his list that’s only available at the Hawk Ridge High School cafeteria. The lunch ladies at my alma mater will be thrilled to share their bounty with the school’s most prestigious alumnus.

Chapter 8

December 1st

Aaron

AfterslippingRuby’spackageinto her mailbox the next morning, I hit the highway. Just outside of Hawk Ridge, I stop at a little cafe. Grabbing my notebook out of the glove box, I step into the blustery afternoon.

Dry oak leaves swirl around my feet, rustling against the asphalt parking lot. Even the Corolla looks out of place between a rusty old Dodge pickup and a nineties model Subaru. Everything here is covered in a thin layer of red dust. It hasn’t rained much yet this winter, but once it does, all that dust will turn to mud. I shuffle my feet over the large black welcome mat before I step inside.

The interior is surprisingly warm, with every corner illuminated by the yellow glow from exposed incandescent bulbs strung along the ceiling. After ordering a double-shot of espresso from a pretty young woman, I find a good spot in the corner and pull out my notebook.

Okay. What do we know so far?

1. Brent is an asshole

2. Brent is a drunk

3. Brent is meeting some guy in a suit talking about large sums of money

4. It’s time for Brent to go bye-bye

5. Probably a knife

6. Or a crash

7. Or crash, then knife

A knife is my preferred method, of course. After the attack, I found solace in a forge in Hawk Ridge, where I made knives with the carved initials of each of the boys who’d beat me. But I do have to be practical. There are other logistics to consider. His drunkenness could certainly work to my advantage. Much easier to overpower someone who’s already tranquilized themselves for you. And I wouldn’t want to do it at the house. Too much mess, too close to Ruby. Have to lure him away…

“Can I get you anything else?” a voice tugs me out of my fantasy. The barista stands next to my table with an expectant look on her face. “A scone or something?”

My stomach growls. It’s been a few hours since my breakfast protein shake.

“Yes. Another double-shot.” I smile at her. “And a blueberry scone.”

“Coming right up.” She looks at me with a quizzical expression, like people do when they’re sure you’ve met before, but they can’t remember your name.

Sigh.Fame creates the constant risk of recognition. Oh well. If this girl realizes who I am, I’ll toss her an autograph or a big tip or a particularly attractive match in the Arrow app.

Almost out of habit, I discreetly snap her photo, then log into the app and find her profile. Everly. Nineteen years old. Cute pictures, with her long brown hair, her bangs hanging down to thick brows that highlight piercing blue eyes. The girl gets lots of messages from older guys eager to show off their anatomy.Disgusting.Sometimes I hate this app, even though I created it.

Poor Everly. She deserves a lonely rich man who will sweep her off her feet and out of this tiny mountain town. As long as she doesn’t mind a teensy age gap.

Opening the Arrow Black app, I feel the familiar thrill, the excitement that comes from holding people’s future happiness in the palm of my hand.

Plenty of men on Arrow Black request a young partner with brown hair and blue eyes. Some even specified someone “innocent” or “inexperienced”. It’s been loads of fun teaching the algorithm how to define words like that.

Dustin McAdams, surgeon, forty-two… he’d love a pretty girl like Everly, but he looks too jaded. Leroy Williams, colonel in the US Army, forty-five, divorced, no kids… too rigid.

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