Page 16 of Dramatic AF
His next message came instantly.
TRICK:Watch it.
I could practically hear the growl in his response, and it made me laugh, the sound unusually loud in the hush of my room.
Leaving the phone on the pillow, I forced myself up from the mattress and went to change into a baggy T-shirt and a pair of even baggier cotton pants. Dressed, I grabbed my phone again and headed to the kitchen to pour a glass of water.
Not because he’d told me to. I was just thirsty.
I drank deeply, downing half the cup before coming up for air. Okay, fine, maybe I had been more dehydrated than I thought. Trick didn’t need to know that, though.
Or maybe…
My eyes flared with a spark of mischief as I grabbed the glass and tilted it to my lips again. At the same time, I held my phone up, positioning it so the angle appeared only mildly suggestive, and snapped a picture.
JAYDEN:Happy?
I held my breath, waiting for his response.
TRICK:Good boy.
After reading the text twice, I snorted and rolled my eyes. I supposed I had it coming after that “Daddy” comment. Still, my pulse bumped, and a shiver worked its way up my spine.
I liked that I had made him happy.
Chuckling, I downed the last of the water, then carried the glass to the sink to wash it. Leaving it to dry on the rack, I padded out of the kitchen, a goofy grinned etched on my face as I reread our text thread.
I’d made it only a few steps down the hallway when I heard it—a faint mechanical beep.
It sounded kind of like the tone in my earpiece right before a sound check, which made me think I had probably imagined it. Gods, I was so tired, and my brain felt like oatmeal. It didn’t really surprise me that the echoes of the day had followed me home from the theater.
But then I heard it again.
One beep.
Two.
Three.
I stood frozen, finally recognizing it as the chime from the keypad lock on my front door. Another beep, followed by three quick pips, indicating the wrong code had been entered.
Then nothing, the silence thick and uneasy, as I waited to see if they would try again. The grin that had lingered on my lips faded, replaced by the tremble of adrenaline sliding through my veins.
I edged toward the entryway, muscles taut and every step measured, the floorboard behind the sofa betraying me with a creak. The beeps started again—a pattern that sounded oddly familiar, though I didn’t know why.
I gripped my phone tighter, thumb hovering over the emergency dial, and my heart pulsing in my throat. A shadow flickered under the door, blocking the light from the corridor of my apartment building.
Five beeps. Three pips.
My breath caught as I weighed my options. I could confront whoever was out there. Maybe a drunk neighbor who had accidentally wandered onto the wrong floor? A kid playing with the illuminated buttons?
The clock on my phone showed after midnight now, making the first option more likely. Yet, something didn’t feel right. Beyond the chirps from the keypad, I hadn’t heard any of the other sounds I would have expected.
No frustrated grunts. No quiet curses.
My other option was to retreat deeper into the apartment, call the police, and wait. If it did end up being a confused neighbor, though, I might actually die of embarrassment.
If that happened, my director would probably resurrect me, just to kill me again.
