Page 3 of My Deepest Desire

Fire floods my veins at the thought of someone harming her. She’s the only one in this world, besides my parents, who I’d killfor with no questions asked. “What did he say to you? And don’t leave anything out,” I warn.

“I’m not sure if he was joking or not. Maybe he was, but it didn’t sound like it.” Maggie takes a deep, cleansing breath, her ample chest visibly rising and falling. “He said he wanted to choke me. Wanted to see fear in my eyes. See the bruises forming on my skin.” She visibly shudders. “He wanted to cut me to see what my blood tasted like. Said he thought the noise my bones would make when he broke them would sound like music.”

Her voice is shaky now, and I tug her closer. I’m ready to find this motherfucker and kill him with my bare hands. Drain the life out of him while I laugh in his face, then fuck Maggie in a pool of his blood.

I keep my tone indifferent so my anger doesn’t scare her. “Did you ever meet him?”

She shakes her head. “No, I never did. He had my phone number, but I blocked him. Blocked him on the app too. I thought that would be the end of it. But then, I started getting calls and texts from new numbers. Emails started coming in from fake accounts, telling me they were watching me. That they knew what I was doing, knew where I was.”

“Did you tell the police?”

“I did, but they couldn’t help me. They said without proof that it was Chris—I couldn’t even tell them who Chris was because I didn’t have a last name—and since he hadn’t physically done anything to me, it was out of their hands.”

Of course, they wouldn’t do anything.Lazy fucks.They could’ve at least tried to investigate.

“Then the notes started. I’d find them on my doorstep, or the mailbox, and sometimes on my car.”

I’m pissed she waited until now to tell me, but it’s my own fucking fault, and I have no one to be mad at but myself. “What the fuck, Maggie? You should’ve come to me sooner?”

Her laugh is humorless. “Are you joking? You’ve hated me for years. Why would I have come to you? I’m only doing it now as a last resort before I decide to move away so he can’t find me.”

Over my fucking dead body is she leaving.

“What do you want me to do?” Just tell me, and I’ll do it.

“I don’t know.” She sighs with apprehension in her eyes. “Maybe you could pretend to be my boyfriend or something? But only for a little while!” She blurts out the last part as if she’s worried I’d say no. “Just until this blows over. If Chris, or whoever he is, sees that I have a man in my life, maybe he’ll lose interest and go away.”

My poor little Mouse. So delusional.

No man could ever stay away from her, and not one obsessed like I am. If anything, having a boyfriend will only piss this guy off. But if he’s ballsy enough to come near her, I’ll destroy him and take pleasure in ending his life.

I sink deeper into the leather cushions, spreading my muscular thighs farther apart until my leg touches hers, and she jolts. “You want me to be your boyfriend, baby? That what you need?” I taunt her because I like watching her squirm, just like she did when I used to chase her around my yard with worms.

“My fake boyfriend, Trey. Fake.”

“Fine. Then we start now.”

Maggie’s eyes go as big as saucers, and her mouth drops open.

“I’m taking you home, and you can tell me everything I need to know. We have a lot to catch up on, Mouse.”

It’s time for me to stop pushing away the only woman I’ve ever loved. She’ll either accept me, or run for good once she learns the truth.

2

MAGGIE

Why do men become hotter as they age, but women slowly turn into hobbits? So unfair.

Trey Smith gets sexier every day and I hate it. I hate him. Well, that’s not true. I don’t actually hate anyone because I’m not that kind of person, and I could never hate Trey. I just don’t like him very much anymore. There was a time when I did, though.

We used to be inseparable. He had the coolest treehouse in his backyard, and we spent hours up there playing around and daydreaming about the craziest things. We went on adventures in the neighborhood, getting into the stuff we shouldn’t have, as he always pushed me to do things out of my comfort zone. He made me happy when I was sad, made me laugh until I cried. He was everything to me until he moved away.

When his dad took a new job in Lunsford, it was like they moved across the ocean instead of an hour away. Our parents promised we’d still be able to see each other, but that didn’t prove to be the case. We’d text and chat online occasionally, but the messages died off as we got older, and I chalked it up to us both being busy with extracurriculars. So when mom told methat he was moving back our sophomore year, I couldn’t contain my excitement—I was finally getting my best friend back.

Only I didn’t. Because the boy who came back was not the one I used to know.

Trey was different. He left a boy and came back a man. He looked nothing like the scrawny, pimply-faced teenagers at school, and he had bigger muscles than most of the seniors. At over six-feet tall, with a chiseled physique and a no-fucks-given attitude, I hardly recognized him. He’d always been well liked growing up, but at sixteen, kids flocked to him like he was the second coming of Jesus or something.

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