Chapter 10: An Unexpected Visitor

**Kait**

The street is dark and quiet, with only a small drizzle remaining from the earlier storm. I pass beneath a broken street light, its white haze flickering on and off.

Jake and Nathan had declined my offer for a drink, as I’d expected them to. I was a bit disappointed. I was looking forward to peeling back the layers they were hiding from me. I know there is something more to them, and I need to find out.

My “feelings” told me something would happen tonight. Looks like they were right. If only I knew what they were talking about in that office.

I’d thought about eavesdropping, but something told me they would know if I had. So, I waited and waited, and waited, until I heard the crash of the window breaking. I could hear them arguing, but it was so disjointed I couldn’t make anything out.

The drinks were just a ploy to get something out of them, but when they declined, I had no choice but to close up shop and go home. Jake didn’t even say goodbye, but I could see the pained expression on his face as he walked away.

And the way Nathan looked back at me with sympathy, as if I had just walked into something I wouldn’t be able to walk out of.

Whatever the case, there is nothing I can do about it now. As I near the apartment I share with Marcey, I see the living room light is on through the window. Odd. Marcey shouldn’t be back from her shift at the hospital yet.

Maybe she just accidentally left the light on.

I enter the lobby and wave at Fred, who’s busy typing something on his phone. The elevator dings when it reaches the lobby floor, and I punch in good ‘ole number thirteen.

The hallway is dingy, and the low light makes the place feel haunted. If it is haunted, I wouldn’t be surprised. I hear enough spooky things here at night to make me rethink a few things.

I open the apartment door and am surprised to smell something cooking in the kitchen. It doesn’t have the usual earthy scent most of Marcey’s “potions” have. Instead, this almost smells like…

“Good. You’re home. I made spaghetti.”

***

I sit across from John, his youthful face locked in a mischievous grin. He’s wearing something different than what I saw him in earlier.

He’s still wearing his black jacket but now wears a pair of Converse and black jeans with white stains on them. Both of his ears have gauges in them, highlighting the tattoo that curves around his neck.

“I’m glad you liked the food. I’m not much of a cook, but I always was a fan of spaghetti,” he says, twirling his fork between his fingers.

“Well,” I murmur, “you didn’t really give me much choice.”

He chuckles. “No, I suppose I didn’t. You looked thin. I thought you could use a decent meal.”

“What? Beer and wings don’t count?”

He lets out a full burst of laughter at that, the curves of his smile reaching his eyes. “No, I’m afraid not, love. That’s a snack at most.”

Unable to help myself, I giggle and immediately regret it. The next thing I know, John is reaching over to me and grabbing my hand.

“How would you like to get out of here?” he asks.

After my failed attempt at figuring out what’s going on from Jake and Nathan, maybe John is my best bet. But something about those eyes makes me think I shouldn’t be hanging out with him.

Then again, Jake won’t exactly be forthcoming, and I can’t help but be curious.

Besides, John did apologize for his behavior before forcing food down my throat.

“Sure. What did you have in mind?”

He smiles at me mischievously, “You’ll see.”

He takes my hand and whisks me out of the apartment, but not before he makes me change into a little something he’d brought with him.

When I first put on the tight black dress, I think I could easily pass off as a stripper. When I try to take it off, John puts his hands around my waist and dutifully informs me I should keep it on.

Again, those red-silver eyes gleam at me, and I do as I’m told, not because I’m scared of him but because I am honestly concerned.

We step out into the night, and I note a slight chill in the air. It’s well past midnight now, and the creatures of the night have come scurrying out of their holes.

Women in short skirts and barely-covered bras hang around the street corners, some of them jeering us as we walk past. John ignores them all and keeps his eyes locked on the road, occasionally smiling at me.

We end up in front of a club with a blue neon sign that says, “Unencumbered.”

“Big word,” I comment, “for a strip club, I mean.”

John laughs and takes my hand. “This is no ordinary strip club, little lamb.”

Before we enter the fine establishment, I think to myself how idiotic this all is. Sure? Why not walk into a strange club with a guy I don’t know who probably had something to do with the destruction of my boss’ office?

Why not willingly walk hand-in-hand into a building full of naked women with a guy who could pass as an emo teenager with a drug problem?

But then, this emo teenage-looking guy has a face full of stubble and little lines around his eyes and mouth. He definitely isn’t a teenager, but he sure as hell acts like one.

We go inside the club, and the place is bursting with music and bodies pressing up against each other. With each drop of the beat, the mass of flesh pumps out its fists in violent exuberance.

People laugh in the corners of the room, laughing with friends while drinking cocktails of one form or another. The whole room is a buzz of smoke and flashing lights, sending my brain into a wave of fluidity.

John grabs my arm and drags me out onto the dance floor, clearly not seeing me flail as I try to go back. There are many things I enjoy doing, but dancing is not one of them. Before I can object, he twirls me along with the beat, and I find myself lost among the heated bodies.

The song turns into a slow, methodical rhythm that snakes and coils around the audience like a snake charmer to a snake. John grabs hold of my waist and pulls me in close, the smell of cigars thick around him.

His musty aroma drags me into him, accepting his embrace. He then pushes a drink into my hands. I must have missed it when he grabbed it. I try to shake my head no, but he shoves forward again, and I give in.

I chug down the drink and cringe slightly as the hot liquid goes down. Yup. That’s vodka. He gives me another, and I drink it. Pretty soon, the world is spinning as the people around me fall into smooth colors and textures.

Am I crazy? I must be because when John leans in, his mouth so close to mine, I lean forward and make the connection. The world ignites with fire and sparks, electrifying every fiber of my being.

His hands circle around me, groping, pulling, catching, searching for everything they can. My skin burns for his touch, and I find myself finding him, stroking him, rubbing him.

He moans into my ear and presses his hips against me.

“I need you. Now,” he whispers into my ear, and then we’re gone, fleeing the club and the people in it.

We’re back in my apartment. Marcey is still out. Now, we’re in my bed, naked bodies pressed together and clothes strewn chaotically about the room.

He enters me with full thrusts and my back arcs in pure ecstasy. My eyes roll as he moves back and forth, his form rough and sharp against mine.

Then I’m on top, and my hands are outstretched on his hardened muscles. He moans with satisfaction and bites his lips, rocking with my every move. Then, he screams as he finishes inside me, and I let him as I move into my own climax, lights and colors exploding around me.

Pure, raw gratification floods through me. And then, I collapse on top of him, completely spent.

I roll off him and laugh. “Holy sh*t!” I cry.

I look at him, and he’s smiling with a merciless and wicked smile.