Billy walked me home that evening, and I was pretty sure he could tell something was up with me. We’d worked together for years, and he knew me well enough to know when something was up. He didn’t ask- I got him off on a tangent about his brother, and let him rant to me all the way home, nodding along and pulling faces and making exclamations where they were necessary. I was listening, but half of my brain was still hung up on everything that had just happened between Anthony and I. As soon as I got into my apartment, I tossed my phone on my dresser, flopped down on my bed and let myself dedicate all my brain space to him once more.
God, that had been some damn good sex. For me, hook-ups were often few and far between because I spent so much time getting the restaurant in hand - it was hard to find the space to find someone appropriate to fuck and then actually fuck them when I was working until the small hours of almost every morning, weeks on end. If I was being honest, I couldn’t remember the last time I had actually had sex. But that didn’t matter because Anthony had blown them all out of the water anyway. I would be coming back to our encounter over and over again, I was sure of it - the feeling of his hands gripping my hips, the weight of his body on top of mine as he leaned over to kiss my neck… I shivered as I peeled off my jacket and shoes, and wondered where he’d learned to fuck like that.
I let out a huge yawn and managed to drag myself into a shower, even though I knew that it would wash that delicious scent of his aftershave right off me. A little bit of me wanted to luxuriate in it for the entire night; to close my eyes and pretend that he was right there next to me. But I had to be up early the next day for my next shift, and if I came in stinking of a dude, most of the staff would have some serious questions to ask me (and with cause). They were so used to my entire life revolving around the restaurant that even a hint that something interesting might be going on in my personal life would lead to endless questions. I already knew that Lily was going to corner me as soon as I got through the door and demand to know everything that happened last night. And the last thing I wanted was to be accosted by every member of staff about the same thing.
After I had bathed, I slipped under the covers and closed my eyes. He was good. God was he good. Just the right level of rough, totally in control without being an asshole about it. Determined to make me cum without putting all that pressure on me. My pussy clenched as I remembered him inside of me, like a muscle memory, and I wondered if I would ever get to do it again.
He had been pretty keen to get out of there once we were done. Well, as soon as I’d said what I’d said, he’d seemed to tense up, finishing and then quickly dressing and getting ready to leave. I mean, I couldn’t blame him - I had dumped a rather big piece of important information on him, right as we were screwing our brains out. Maybe he thought I was going to hand him into the cops, or something? That was the last thing on my mind if I was being honest. I had no intention of getting him arrested for what he did. Yes, I probably should have, but I had my own horse in this race, and I wasn’t going to object to couple less bastard rapists out on the streets. Not after what happened to Lia.
He had been so quick with them. I couldn’t shake that. I had blacked out for a matter of seconds, and when I came to, he had practically dealt with them. Well, killed them - there was no point beating around the bush about it. I shivered a little at the thought of it. When we had been having dinner, he had been so careful to evade all the questions that I had for him about his job, his past, and where he got his skills. I had gone over and over it in my head. Was he an ex-cop, a personal trainer, an MMA fighter? But if it was any of those things, why wouldn’t he have told me? None of it was illegal, and none of it necessarily implicated him in the murders either. Another thought crossed my head, one that had been playing on the back of my mind since we finished dinner.
Maybe… maybe he did that kind of stuff for a living? I dismissed the thought as quickly as it popped into my head. I was being ridiculous. What, was he some kind of assassin, stalking the street at night and taking people out for cash? Guys like that weren’t exactly known for their compassion and dedication to saving random women they bumped into on the street now, were they? Or perhaps he was a vigilante. Maybe he’d decided to Batman it up and clean up the streets. I wasn’t sure which concept was more outrageous.
Still, it was something to think on. He’d clearly done it before - I mean, he had the mask and everything. Was he taking justice into his own hands to make the city better? I scoffed to myself - yeah. Because guys like that existed outside of comics. I didn’t really want to linger on why he was so good at what he had done, but it explained why he had been out of there so quickly after we hooked up. No doubt he thought I was going to hand him over and he’d be screwed - well, not just in the sexy way. I let out a sigh. Had I scared him off? Fuck it, even if half of what I had come up with tonight had been true, then it was probably for the best that I didn’t see him again.
I mean, I had always been attracted to bad boys. That was a total thing, wasn’t it? Women finding themselves “into” men who probably weren’t the most wholesome guys in the world? It wasn’t that I didn’t like gentlemen, just that they weren’t a pre-requisite for people who wanted to get in my pants. I didn’t want to fix them or turn them into some docile little house-husband. I guess I liked them more because they expected less of a commitment from me and I didn’t have to turn myself into somebody’s girlfriend. I hadn’t been a romantic partner to anyone in a long time, and I had no intention of becoming one. All I knew was that when I thought of Anthony, I wanted more. He was bad news, there was no arguing with that, but I wasn’t sure what kind of bad news he was, and whether or not I wanted to have him printed all over my pages.
I smiled to myself. Way to labor the metaphor. Despite the fact my brain was overflowing, I found myself drifting off to sleep… until I was suddenly roused by the buzzing of my phone on the dresser. Who could be texting me at this time of night? One of the chefs looking for time off in anticipation of a hangover he was going to have? I blearily reached across the bed and grabbed my cell, holding it at arm’s length so the light didn’t sear my eyes.
The text was from an unknown number, one I didn’t recognize. I cocked my eyebrow - that wasn’t good. The only people who had my number were the people I gave it to. It had to be some kind of marketing scam, or one of the guys from the restaurant getting a new phone and not bothering to tell me. I clicked to open the message, and my heart dropped to my stomach when I saw what it said.
“It’s going to happen again. And this time, there won’t be anyone around to save you.”
I threw my phone across the room and pulled the covers over my head. My blood pulsed through my veins as the words carved themselves onto my brain, and it felt as though I would never be able to focus on anything but them ever again.