Page 9 of Right Number, Wrong Man
I ain’t a man of many vices. I don’t smoke often and I don’t gamble. I do enjoy a glass of bourbon, but I only have one serious, lifelong addiction:
Hailey.
I went through years of excruciating withdrawal and it felt like fucking dying. Eventually, I convinced myself I could live without her, but that craving for her—for her smile, for her voice, for her touch—it’s always in the back of my mind, waiting for me to slip up.
Once an addict, always an addict.
Seeing the raw lust on her angelic face, her sweet lips parting with moans—it got me high and buzzing, but I’m coming down fast.
My burning need for her never died. I starved the flames, but the embers remained, and this moment of weakness was enough to stoke the tiny spark into a roaring fire in my chest.
Only it doesn’t light me up.
It’s devouring me.
I rewind the video and pause at the beginning.
Even if I didn’t see her face, I would recognize that tattoo anywhere. It’s a tribute to her favorite slasher movies, theWraithface Chroniclesand its main character’s weapon, a big kitchen knife.
She likes to show it off at theRetro Reel, too. It gets customers talking, and chatty customers buy more popcorn and drinks, which is great for business, but I despise when men talk to her. When she smiles at them.
I don’t give a damn that she’s just doing her job and being friendly. It makes me want to take each of these bastards on a trip to the basement of my hunting cabin outside of town. Five minutes alone with me and my tools and they’ll regret the day they first came into this world.
I have a much bigger problem now, though, and it ain’t the ridiculous number of tissues needed to wipe my cum explosion off various spots in my bedroom.
How am I gonna look into Hailey’s face at work tomorrow without losing my shit?
More importantly, how will I stop myself from bending her over the concession stand?
If she gives me lip again, I’m done. Arguing with herfeels like foreplay. The mouthier she gets, the more I want to stuff my cock between her glossy lips to shut her up.
For Hailey, working at theRetro Reelis a dream. Her eyes light up when we get new movies and she takes spare posters home instead of throwing them away. On slow nights when we have empty seats I let her watch the screenings, too.
She doesn’t know it, but I didn’t just buy the place cause it was conveniently across from her apartment and as a passive investment. I bought it cause I knew she’d love it. I always planned to give her the reins when I re-enlist.
But for me, working with her has been the sweetest torture.
I smell her fruity shampoo and raspberry perfume every time I pass by. I hear her laugh. I watch her scroll on her phone while she chews on her lip. I see when she sneaks a handful of popcorn, but I pretend not to notice.
My heart feels like it’s exploding.
Calm. Keep calm, I tell myself.
I’m set to leave town at the end of summer. That’s just a few weeks. Surely I can keep it together until then?
I grab my own cell from the nightstand and punch in the hotline number for the phone company. After explaining my issue with Mike’s account not being canceled and spending an unacceptable amount of time on hold, the customer service lady gives an apologetic chuckle.
“I’m sorry, Sir,” she croons. “It seems there was an error in our system. The number you referred to has been added to your account as a family package instead of being disconnected. Would you like to cancel now?”
“Hell no!” I cough, taking a deep breath. “I mean, no, thank you, ma’am. Please leave everything as it is."
The woman says something else about a limited timeoffer for 5G coverage, but I can’t hear her over the ringing in my ears and hang up.
An error, hmm?
I stumble to bed and my head hits the pillow like a boulder, restless sleep bringing back memories of Halloween twelve years ago.
5
