Ethan
I was at a mixer at school, not that I wanted to be there—my uncle insisted. I sat at a
table, staring at my phone, a picture of Henry pulled up on my screen. I still got
weekly updates on Henry from my pawn I kept at his side. He was doing fine so far, which was good, though I hated being away from him. "Just give me a little time,
little lamb," I murmured to myself. "Soon enough, you'll see why we should be
together." My phone buzzed. That was strange—it wasn't time for our usual check-in.
Does she want it now? I opened it. It was a video, and what I saw made the blood run cold in
my veins. For a moment, I stopped hearing anything around me. Henry. My Henry. Kissing someone else. No, not—impossible. That couldn't be him. But there it was, undeniable proof in front
of me. "What's wrong?" Samantha sauntered over, needing to convince her father to sign a
deal with my uncle's company. "Nothing," I replied, trying to hide the simmering rage threatening to spill over. I
gripped my phone so hard I nearly broke it. I forced a fake smile. Just a few more
minutes and all this would be over. Then I'd know the fool who had just signed his
death warrant for touching what was mine. No matter who they were, they would
pay. The rest of the night passed by in a blur until I could finally free myself from
Samantha. She disgusted me, made my skin crawl, made me want to cut off the
parts she touched. While I was driving, I picked up my phone and dialed my contact. She didn't pick up. "Pick up, you bitch!" I yelled, slamming my hand against the steering wheel. On the
next ring, she finally answered. "Who?" I barked, my grip on the wheel turning my knuckles white.
"I don't know," she replied. "Don't play with me. Don't you fucking try, okay? I'll ruin everything you hold dear if
you don't tell me who he is."
"I don't know him, really," she insisted. "I just saw him today at the party."
"Party? What fucking party? You didn't say anything about a party." She hesitated. "It felt irrelevant, so I didn't mention it."
"What's his name?" I demanded. "Andrew," she said.
I started thinking. Where had I heard that name? "Andrew," I repeated slowly. Memories I'd tried to suppress for years began to surface—the very same name that
haunted my sleep. It couldn't be right. "It's impossible," I muttered. "What's not right?" she asked.
Ignoring her, I pressed, "What's his surname?"
"I don't know," she said. "I only saw him today."
"Tomorrow morning, I want his picture and name. You hear me?"
"I'm not a detective, I need more time—"
"Don't you fucking play smart with me! You understand the words I'm saying, right?
Tomorrow. Don't you dare disappoint me. I want his name and picture tomorrow, or
else you know the consequences."
"Yes," she said weakly. "Good girl. Don't forget. Tomorrow."
"Yeah, I heard you," she replied, and hung up.
I relaxed slightly. Soon enough, I'd know if it was that bastard or just another
unfortunate idiot bearing his name. Whoever it was, they were a dead man
walking—they just didn't know it yet. As much as I wanted to run over there myself, I
had to finish what I had going on here. I couldn't just leave—my uncle would kill me
for ruining the deal. They'd live—just a little while longer. Henry's POV
Waking up, I searched for Andrew using my eyes. Our gazes met, like it was planned.
I couldn't help it—a small smile crept onto my face. I was surprised to see all of them
still in bed, nobody making any effort to get up. "No classes?" I asked. Only Julian responded, "Nah, we don't feel like participating in anything educational
today. We'll just stay here all day." Andrew didn't say anything, just kept staring at me like he wanted to burn a hole
through me. "Dude, stop staring, you're scaring the kid," Mason joked.
If it was before, I might have agreed, but not after last night. I smiled. "It's fine," I
said. "Huh?" Mason said, surprised.
I laughed and made my way to the bathroom. As I showered, I remembered a dream
I'd had the night before, and a blush crept onto my face. In the dream, I was in a
cave with someone else. I couldn't see the face clearly, but I remembered the events, the emotions coursing through me. Slowly, my hands reached down to stroke my
hardening cock, and strangely, Andrew's face began to replace the faceless lover
from my dream. I could feel the pressure building as I continued stroking myself, quietly muttering Andrew's name. Just as I was about to climax, a knock shattered
my pleasure. "Uh, you're hogging the bathroom," someone called. "If you guys wanted to use it, why didn't you before I woke up? You all were just
sitting there doing nothing, and now suddenly I'm hogging the bathroom?" I
snapped, annoyance clouding my features. "Just take your time, sorry," the voice replied. "I sure will, asshole," I muttered under my breath, frustrated that my release was
ruined. That feeling from earlier was gone. Something nagged at my mind—I'd only
ever felt like that before, and it was with Andrew. Then who was that in my dream
last night? Why did the image fit seamlessly with Andrew's?
"Oh well, that's for another day," I muttered, cleaning up. Leaving the bathroom, I saw Andrew staring at me with a knowing smirk. There was
no way he could have heard me, right? Ignoring him, I got ready for my classes. On the pathway away from my dorm, I met Jenna and Lena.
"Hey," I greeted. "Hi, sweetheart," Lena said. "Ooh, I saw someone cheerful this morning."
"Yeah, I feel okay today."
"That's good—so spill," Jenna said. "Spill what?" I asked. "Don't play dumb. I saw you last night, talking with Mr. Hot-and-Dangerous," Jenna
pressed. Lena chimed in, "Ooh, that's old news. I even saw them kissing before the fight
started and he had to go play backup."
"No way," Jenna gasped, her mouth wide open. "You did? She's lying, right?" she
asked, stepping in front of me.
I sidestepped her, not answering. "You slut!" Jenna teased. "Language," Lena scolded, laughing. "You don't even know his full name," Lena said. "True," Jenna echoed. "He's someone you just met, and you're already kissing and
stuff. I've got to say, I'm proud of you! So what's his name?"
"Andrew," I replied. "Andrew Morgan, I think. Not sure, but that's what I saw on
allocation day."
"Andrew Morgan, huh?" Lena said. "I don't think I've heard of him before."
"Yeah, he's from Chicago, came here for college," Jenna said incredulously. "Beats me," I shrugged. "Oh well," Lena said, "this is where I part ways with you guys." We hugged, and she
headed off. Jenna and I kept walking to our faculty. During lectures, I caught her glued to her
phone. "Hey, focus," I whispered.
She looked startled. "Yeah, I will. Good. And stop focusing on your phone—you'll
have all the time after lectures." She smiled sheepishly.