Two days back, while lost in work emails over coffee, Daniel mentioned Caleb's coming. He'll help expand the company. Staying a few weeks.
I remember the moment—spoon frozen, granola getting soggy. My throat went dry. I gave a nod that felt anything but casual. Oh. That's… good.
Good? Seriously?
Now, staring out the window, flame pendant bumping my chest, I watch Daniel's car. Headlights slash across the house, into the darkness.
My pulse didn't just jump—it exploded.
The masked man's whispers hang on me still, but it's Caleb's voice from forever ago that stings more—low, careful, so full of things he never said.
I'm not ready. Thought I was. The play had a million reactions. Innocence. Wickedness. Everything...
Now it's real.
The dream is gonna hit my skin.
I'm stuck by the window as Daniel gets out, goes around, opens the passenger door.
Air catches.
Boots on the drive. A body leans out—broader now, firmer.
Then Caleb's in the porch light.
It's him, but not.
The grin I knew? Hardened. Killer. Jaw sharper. Hair longer, dark, slicked back like he ran his hands through it. Black jacket. Gray shirt.
He looks up. Right at the window. Right at me.
I freeze.
His eyes lock. No surprise. No pause.
Just a slow, hot stare.
Something inside me breaks.
For one scary second, I'm in his head. The masked man's hands. Heat between my legs. The command: You don't move until I say.
And in Caleb's eyes—the same ghost. Same pull. Same danger.
I stumble back. My robe sticks to me like guilt. I grab a shirt, pull it on, but still smell like sex. Still look like I've been touched by something unreal.
Footsteps. Voices downstairs. Daniel yelling something happy. Caleb's low reply.
Then—a knock.
My door.
My throat closes.
Soph? He wants to say hi.
Daniel.
My fingers twitch on the vanity. I glance in the mirror.
Swollen lips. Red cheeks. Eyes wild with secrets.
Not a wife. Prey.
Yeah, coming, I choke out.
I open the door.
Daniel's facing away, waving down the hall, still talking. Told him you're all grown, but still bunk here like summer. Just ditch the mopey tunes.
He turns.
Caleb too.
Silence.
He looks at me like the world just came into focus.
His lips part—barely. No smile. Just that slow sweep from my collarbone down.
His voice. Soft silk. "Hey, Soph."
I can't breathe.
"Hi," I whisper back.
Daniel laughs, clueless. You two look like a still from a movie. Come on, you know each other.
I can't look away.
Caleb's eyes linger.
Then—a flash.
A small tilt of his head.
He remembers something.
Something he shouldn't.
Something in a mask.
His gaze drops to my pendant. His throat bobs.
Then, like nothing happened, a half-smile.
But it doesn't reach his eyes.
"Long flight," he says to Daniel. "Shower time. Catch you in the morning."
He brushes past me.
Close.
Too close.
And I catch it—cedar, smoke, sin.
Room 3.
I stare after him, shaking.
He turns the corner.
Then—a glance back.
All heat. All danger. All promises.
You still haven't earned it.
My legs almost give.
Daniel chuckles. Jet lag, I guess. He'll lighten up by morning.
I can't speak. Can't blink.
If Caleb's the man in the mask…
He touched me before he said a word.
And if he isn't…
Then he knows. Someone knows.
And now, he's sleeping down the hall.
Where the walls are thin.
Where the locks don't hold.
My pendant throbs.
The hall takes him.
Cedar, smoke, sin—stays.
I stand frozen. Not just from shock, but something worse—recognition.
Not just his eyes—a secret already undressed. But the message in that last look, that blink of power that set me on fire.
He touched me.
Not here.
Before.
And if it's not him—he knows.
He knows what someone did.
The air thickens. My robe sticks to me. I touch my pendant. Not just heat now. Memory. Control. A question I can't answer.
Daniel steps away, humming, to the kitchen. I turn back into my room and shut the door.
Locked.
I lean on it, let out a breath.
My legs shake.
Fear?
Want?
My feet move to the mirror. Same face. But the eyes are wrong. Wild.
Someone who wants to be seen. Touched. Taken.
You still haven't earned it.
Text.
Blocked Number: He's not alone under the roof tonight.
I blink. My heart flips.
Still watching.
Masked man? Caleb? Am I losing it?
I untie the robe. It falls.
Air kisses my skin, but it's not enough. I need more. I need him.
He hasn't earned it?
Have I?
I ache.
I reach for the red lace slip—the one for feeling ruined. No panties. No bra.
My reflection blurs.
Not tears.
Lust.
Another buzz.
Blocked Number: Your window. Now.
My heart cracks. I step to the window, part the curtain a bit.
Nothing.
Then—a figure.
Not near. But there. Lawn, beyond the hedge. Still. Watching.
Too dark.
He lifts a hand.
Runs two fingers down himself.
He wants me to copy.
Air leaves. My hand lifts. I copy him. Fingers down on me.
I don't look away.
He doesn't either.
The curtain flutters. The scent is back. Room 3.
You don't move until I say.
My hand shakes.
But I obey.
I tease. Stroke.
Never enough.
Never full.
My knees bend. I grip the window, head back, burning inside.
Another buzz.
Blocked Number: Not yet. Open the drawer by your bed.
I move on autopilot. Open it.
Velvet.
I pull it out. Shaking.
A blindfold.
His.
And a card.
Tomorrow, wear a white dress. No bra. No panties. I'll know. I always do.
I stumble back to the bed, holding the blindfold.
He was in my house.
In my room. Touched my drawer. Left a thing where Daniel would never look.
But I would.
I did.
And part of me doesn't want him to stop.
I curl on the sheets, shaking. Not satisfied.
Still waiting.
Then—buzz.
A different number.
Caleb: Couldn't sleep. You okay?
I stare.
My finger
s hover.
Was he outside? Someone else?
Or is the truth worse?
They both want me.
One has taken me.
The other is about to.
I type nothing.
The house creaks.
And then—a whisper.
Hallway.
Just one word:
Soon.