Chapter Twenty - Ixion
I make my way down three stories of stairs, ignoring the call of Galaga and Pac-Man, enter the code to get into the control room, push through, and close it behind me, not slamming, of course.
Mustn’t fuck things up that bad.
I flop down in the chair in front of the screen and immediately my fingers are on the keyboard, pulling up the footage of what just happened on the far left screen, while simultaneously zooming in on the center screen and adjusting the night vision setting so I can see her lying in bed.
She still hasn’t moved.
It didn’t take me long to get down here, but a couple minutes at least.
Why is she still lying there?
I zoom in further, until the resolution can’t resolve and her face is a mess of pixels that make no sense.
Is she crying? I won’t be able to go through with it if she’s crying.
She still has the makeshift blindfold on, so I can’t really tell. I scan her cheeks for almost a minute, just waiting for something to happen.
But she stays still.
Do I need to tell her she can move?
I’m just about to reach for the intercom when she sits up and pulls the tie down her face, so it’s around her neck. I zoom out so she’s in perfect focus again, and we stare at each other.
Her looking at me through the black lens of the camera mounted on the fireplace mantel at the foot of her bed. Me looking at her through the filter of green night vision.
“Who are you?” I ask.
“I know who you are,” she says back. Even though I didn’t say that into the intercom.
It sends a chill along the nape of my neck that I can’t seem to shake.
She swings her feet over the side of the bed, her naked body highlighted in bright green instead of the creamy white she is in real life. She stands, baring her sexy physique to the voyeur on the other end of the lens, and whispers something so low, I can’t make it out.
And she reaches over to the moon nightlight, finds the manual switch on the cord, and turns out the lights.
I watch her—I can still see her in the night vision, and it’s my job to watch her, anyway—as she pulls the covers back on the bed, gets in, and hides.
I lean back in my chair and let out a long breath.
It’s a dangerous game I’m playing. There are a lot of things at stake. But I just don’t seem to care. Jordan is the perfect addition to the chessboard. A play for checkmate if ever there was one.
I spend the next thirty minutes rewinding the footage of what we just did up in her bedroom.
I obsess over every breath she takes. Tormented by her small whimpers and moans as I eat her pussy. Haunted by her need. Consumed with the idea of what will come next.
It’s only after I start to get hard again that I realize I’m still wearing come-stained jeans.
That shakes me out of it, but only long enough to wander over to the pile of clothes I stacked in the corner the second day I was here and pull on some cut-off sweats.
I take off my shirt, sit back in my chair, and rewind. Again, and again, and again. My hand inside my sweats, on my cock, pumping up and down as I think about how all this is gonna end.
Not caring.
There’s so many more plays to make before we get to the end, it’s not even time to care.
I come into my hand, gushing more than should be possible after emptying myself earlier, then get up, wipe myself off with the t-shirt I just took off, and settle back into my chair to watch her.
She wants to watch too.
I’m feeling generous, I guess. Because I’m gonna give her that gift.
When he asks me why, I’ll tell him I didn’t plan it. It’s the truth. I didn’t come here and accept this job to fuck with Jordan. It was just an opportunity, I’ll say. Just another move in the game.
Besides, Evangeline’s into it. She obviously gets off on being watched and there was no way to miss the breathless excitement when I offered her Jordan up as a potential target. And the way I see it, what better way to cure her, right? Let her switch places for once. Be the watcher instead of the watched.
When I’m sure she’s asleep and there’s nothing more to be seen tonight, I reach for my phone, find Jordan’s contact, and press his number.
“Yeah,” he says, after the first ring.
“What do you think of this girl?” I ask.
“In what way?” he asks. He sounds distracted—or maybe annoyed—and I can hear him shuffling papers around, like he’s still at the office or maybe working from home.
“Do you think she’s pretty?”
“I’ve only seen pictures of her, and none of them were very telling. So”—I can practically hear him shrug—“fuck if I know. Fuck if I care, either. And neither should you. I’m not paying you to care if she’s pretty.”
“You know, you’re pretty cocky for a guy who holds no cards.”
“You’re here, aren’t you?”
Yeah, I think to myself. I’m here all right.
“What happened?” he asks.
“What do you mean?”
“Obviously you’re calling, asking what I think of this girl, for a reason. So what happened?”
“Nothing,” I say, thankful that didn’t come out defensive. “She’s just… wound up tight, ya know.”
“Bottled the fuck up,” Jordan says. “Which is why we’re here. Push her to face her fear. I’m surprised she stayed, actually.”
“Why?”
“Because Lucinda told me she’s been locked away in her apartment for like ten years.”
“Lucinda,” I say. “That’s the doctor. Evangeline’s mentioned her.”
Now it’s not a shrug I detect. It’s a stiffening. “Tell me you did not talk to her, Ixion. I will be so fucking pissed off—”
“Relax,” I say, my eyes darting to the screen in front of me just in time to see her turn over in bed and stick her foot out from under the covers. She must be hot. “She was talking to the cameras.”
“Crazy bitch,” he says. And not in a joking way, either.
“Why the hell are you so antagonistic about her? Is there something I’m missing?”
“Like I said,” Jordan explains. “She’s weird. And she’s not really my client. I’m just doing a favor for Lucinda.”
“Your client?” I ask. “What’s that mean? You do this kind of thing often?”
He laughs. “Need-to-know basis, Ixion. Just do your job.”
“Are the others all being watched?” I ask. And then I quickly add, “Just asking in case you need me again.”
“No one but Evangeline Rolaine has this stupid phobia. Most of them are just your run-of-the-mill sexually repressed thirty-somethings.”
“Hmm,” I say. “So why me, Jordan? Why, after all these years, do you suddenly care?”
He’s silent for a few moments. Then he clears his throat and says, “You know I never meant—”
“Yeah.” I cut him off. “Sure. I know.”
“Don’t be a dick. I got you out of jail. She never pressed charges.”
No. She never did that. She did something much worse. “We’re not even,” I say back. “Not even close. And I never asked you for that favor.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt her,” Jordan whispers back.
“What about me?”
“Dude…” He exhales, lets the silence stretch again. “I chose you.”
“Did you?” I laugh, my words hoarse and low.
“You know I did. She didn’t really get hurt, ya know. She never loved you like that.”
If he was here right now I’d knock his fucking teeth out for that comment. He has no idea what I lost when she left.
“I made a mistake, OK?” Jordan says. “Everyone makes mistakes. But I fixed it as best I could. I never did it again.”
“That’s funny,” I counter. “You’re still playing games with people.”
“It’s not what you think, Ixion. Why do you always assume the worst of me?”
“Because dude, that’s all you show me.”
“Really?” he asks. And then he huffs out a breath of air that says he finds my remark incredible. “You never ask for anything, Ix. If you did I’d give it to you. You know that.”
“I don’t ask because I don’t need anything.”
“Well, then I guess it’s all gonna work out then, right?”
“Yeah,” I say, eyeing Evangeline as she tucks that foot back under the covers. She must be cold. “I guess it will.”
“We good?” he asks.
I say nothing. Because… good? Yeah, right. There’s no way we’re ever gonna be good again.
“Why did you even fucking take the job then?” Jordan snaps. “I mean, you could’ve said no.”
I shake my head and sigh. “You just don’t get it, do you?”
“Whatever,” he says. “Later.”
I press end. But the call drops with three beeps, not silence. Which tells me he hung up before I did.
“Whatever, indeed,” I say back to the dark room.
Tomorrow is a new day. And Mr. Wells had better rest up for it. Because he’s about to become a major player in my game. He just doesn’t know it yet.