Page 2 of Ravage
“Oh no! I’m so sorry that I’m late; I didn’t realize how fast the time had passed.” Her voice comes out breathless as if she’s running.
“No worries at all, see you soon.” I end the call just as the kitchen doors to the café slam open and a flustered woman rushes out. The same woman that took my order earlier. Her hair looks wild as she frantically looks around the room; her cheeks are red with embarrassment as she runs her hands down her jeans. She’s no longer wearing the work-issued apron and is now donning a mauve-colored sweater over a black T-shirt. Our eyes meet, and she rushes towards me, weaving through customers that just stop directly in front of her. She pulls the chair out from across me and plops down into it with very little grace, almost toppling herself over.
“I’m so sorry I kept you waiting.” She whispers, staring down at her hands that are clutched tight in her lap. I’m not even hearing the words she’s saying, completely enamored by the sound of her voice as she speaks. She looks up into my eyes, and the once dull and shy girl from behind the counter completely transforms in front of me. She sticks out her hand, waiting for me to shake it. “I’m Sloane, nice to meet you.” I’m so distracted by her sudden beauty that I completely ignore the friendly gesture. It’s like someone is shining a spotlight directly over her. Her skin glows, highlighting the scattered freckles over her nose and the soft natural highlights in her hair. Her lips curve in an unsure smile as she withdraws her hand.
“Nice to meet you, Sloane. I’m Kole.” I finally find my voice and speak to her in an unintentionally gruff tone, sticking my hand back out for her to shake. Her small hand drifts into mine, squeezing lightly around my palm, my hand completely dwarfing hers when I close mine around it. The handshake lasts a ridiculously long time, but I don’t give a shit. Once we pull away, she pulls a small notebook and pen out of the pocket ofher sweater, flips to a blank page, and writesApartment Infoin cursive at the top.
“I’m ready when you are.” She says, her soft voice wrapping around me like a cashmere blanket.
Picking up my coffee I drink the last sip before starting. “As you saw in the ad, it’s a two-bedroom, two-bath apartment. You would have your own bedroom as well as your own en suite bathroom. The apartment is fully furnished, so anything you bring with you would just be extra. You would be responsible for your portion of the rent, $200 a month, as well as any groceries or necessities that you would like. There is an in-apartment washer and dryer, and we can share laundry soap; I really don’t mind.” I sit back in my chair, spreading my legs out in front of me, my left knee knocking against hers. She jolts a little but doesn’t bother moving her leg, which makes me smile. I watch her jot down notes in her small notebook until her pen stops and she looks up at me. “I see that you do in fact have a job, so I shouldn’t have to worry about your portion of the rent, correct?” She nods her head eagerly, and the absence of her voice irritates me. “Please use your words when I ask you a question.” I say, watching as her eyes widen in shock.
“Y-yes, that’s correct. I work full time here, and sometimes overtime. I make more than enough each week to pay my portion.” She ends with a smile gracing her lips.
“Perfect. My work hours can be a bit odd sometimes and aren’t always the same each week. Basically what I’m saying is if you hear someone coming into the apartment at 3 a.m., don’t panic.” That gets a giggle out of her that goes straight to my cock; I grip the tops of my thighs in a tight grip to keep me from lunging across the table and devouring her.
“What do you do for work, if it’s okay to ask?” It confuses me as to why it wouldn’t be okay to ask that; it seems a silly thing to keep private.
“I’m a nurse at a mental health facility.” I decided to omit my exact place of work because it’s not always mentioned in a good light. I won’t lie and say that my place is a fantastic place to work, it’s sketchy as fuck, but it pays my bills and then some, so I couldn’t give two shits what others think about it.
“Oh, wow, that’s really awesome! I could never do anything in the medical field; the sight of blood makes me queasy.” She shivers in her chair, making a disgusted face at the mention of blood, and even with her pulling that face, she still looks beautiful. She leans up against the table, her arms flattening against the wooden top. A piece of her hair falls in front of her face, and she just leaves it there. Doesn’t bother swiping it away, and it makes me twitch having her beauty disrupted.
“I will have a contract drawn up for you within the next few days.” I say as I lean forward on the table, swiping the stray lock of hair back behind her ear. Her eyes widen, and she shrinks back into her hair before returning her hands to her lap. “You can move in on Friday, and we will sign the contract when you come.” I reach over the table, grabbing her notebook and pen to jot down the address of the apartment as well as the door code to get into the building. “This is the door code; you’ll need it at the main door as well as inside the elevator.” I point at the code and watch her face screw up in confusion. “Don’t worry, there are instructions inside the elevator.” I say, chuckling. “We’re on the 4th floor, room 42.” She nods at me as I continue to write down the floor and room number on the notepad. “Well, I better get to work now. I look forward to seeing you again, Sloane.” Standing up from the table, I push the chair in and stick out my hand to help her up. Her hand slips into mine, and I pull her to her feet. She’s a tiny little thing, about a foot shorter than me if not more. She shakes my hand, tells me to have a good day, and scurries back towards the café kitchen. Once she’s out of sight, I walk towards the café door.
The bell above the door chimes as I push it open, walking out into the brisk fall air. The wind chills me through my tweed jacket while I walk towards my car parked down the street. The morning traffic whizzes past me as people mill about on the sidewalk, walking quickly to their desired locations. My black M2 Coupe BMW comes into view at the end of the street. Pulling my keys from my pocket, I unlock it, and the brake lights flash back at me. This car is my baby; I've been saving for it since I was 18 years old. I treat this car better than anything else I’ve ever owned. I slide behind the wheel and start the car, heading to work. Sloane’s voice playing over and over in my head, daydreaming of hearing her say my name while she’s beneath me. My hands tighten around the leather steering wheel, creaking under the force as visions of her face flash in my mind. “My sweet obsession, ready or not, here I come.” I say, chuckling into the open space of the car as I press down hard on the gas pedal, peeling out onto the highway.
My meeting with Kole went much more smoothly than I expected. I was a nervous wreck all morning at work, even going as far as messing up a few orders. Which is why I was on the register in the first place and my apron was stained to shit. Cassie wouldn’t say it to my face, but I could tell she was getting annoyed with all of my fumbling. When my parents died last month, they threw me into the deep end with no floaties. And it’s worsened the longer they’ve been gone. Bad news is hitting me at every corner. I've had a strange feeling in my stomach all daythat I was about to be hit with bad news again. When my phone buzzed to let me know it was 9 a.m. I was frantic about almost being late to this meeting. I ran to the locker room in the back to stow my apron and called Kole as quickly as I could. My palms were so sweaty my phone nearly fell from my grip. I ended up launching myself into the chair across from him like a bumbling baboon.
The nervousness in me didn’t ease up, and once our eyes met, it just got worse. He had no business looking that hot. He looked absolutely edible in a light blue button-down shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. When he stood up to leave, I got a peek of his toned legs in a pair of skinny dress pants and brown oxfords. His whole look was giving college professor, and I almost drooled at the sight. How am I going to live with someone that good-looking? I put on my best customer service face as we talked business. His voice was deep and smooth, causing a burn in the pit of my stomach like a strong shot of bourbon. The deeper we got into the conversation, the better I started to feel, but there was still this nagging feeling in the back of my head. When his knee knocked up against mine under the table, I was sure it was an accident, but then when he swiped my hair behind my ear, I knew it was anything but. I swear as soon as I sat down, he was fixated on me. At first I thought it was just because he was listening intently, but he didn’t look away from me until he was jotting things down in my notebook. After we parted ways, I went to the back to get my apron to continue working. Cassie met me at the locker door and started grilling me with questions about him. Sadly I couldn’t even answer most of her questions, because all I knew about him was his name, address, and job profession. Which is the exact reason I’m sitting in the library mooching off of their free wifi.
I’m sitting far in the back, against the wall behind some bookshelves, trying to make myself as small and unassuming aspossible. How awkward would it be for someone to catch me creeping on some guy? I typeKole Mastersoninto the Google search bar and then double-check my notepad for any spelling errors. The search doesn’t pull up much, just a website and a social media page, which has me frowning. I click on the website that pulled up first, and it brings me to a page for Wellard Asylum. Shock fills me as my eyes pop out of my head. I’ve heard whispers about that place, and not good ones at that. Rumor has it that only the deeply depraved and sinister are housed inside of there. From my little knowledge, no one has ever left there before. At least not alive anyway. My heart rate increases as I read on down the web page, finding a photo of a smiling Kole wearing a pair of scrubs. The words above him are in bold print and celebrate the fact that he was nurse of the month.
Something about the photo doesn’t sit right with me. It looks like it’s photoshopped, almost as if someone took a photo of him and just placed him inside some random sterile-looking building. I shake my head and continue to read the article written below it.
Kole Masterson has excelled in his career here at Wellard Asylum! The patients are so lucky to have a nurse like him roaming the halls. He is attentive to every small detail regarding his job and takes great care of his patients. Kole is the epitome of what a nurse should be here at Wellard Asylum.
The screaming praise in the article makes me smile, but then again, how high are the employee standards at Wellard Asylum anyway? I’m guessing that he’s not a serial killer at least, because he wouldn’t be employed in a place like that if he was. I spend more time searching the internet for any crumb of information I can scrounge up about my new roommate. After an hour I come back with a barely active Instagram page. The page layout is chaotic and showcases random images of anything he seems to find fascinating. There’s a photo of him hiking in the woods at sunset and one of a dog running off in the distance, but the last one posted is the oddest. It’s of a girl lying on the sidewalk; she looks to be asleep or basking in the night air. Her brown hair is spread out around her haphazardly, and the dress she’s wearing is precariously close to exposing her. The image is quite blurry, like it was taken in a rush to remember the moment, as if he was on a nightly walk and came across her unexpectedly. The more I stare at the photo, the more uneasy it makes me, but I can’t place why that is.
After staring at that photo for far too long, I exit out of the Instagram page and close down my laptop altogether. I lean my head back against the wall behind me and rub my eyes with my balled-up hands. My mind is running a mile a minute trying to put all the sparse information I found together like a puzzle.Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I contemplate calling Cassie to talk everything over with her, but I fear that once she hears that he works at Wellard Asylum, she will blow a gasket. I lose out on the mental battle and end up calling Cassie anyway just to have someone to talk to. The phone rings and rings until Cassie finally picks up on the last ring.
“Hey Sloane! Sorry, I was cleaning the house. How are you doing?” I can hear the blare of pop music in the distance as she rushes to answer the phone breathlessly.
“Cassie, do you have a minute just to talk?” I whisper into the receiver, almost hoping she will tell me no so I don’t have to go through with the conversation.
“Oh yeah, sure thing, just give me a minute to turn the music down.” She chuckles as she walks through the house flipping the speaker off. “Okay, spill the tea that you seem to have steeping.”
Taking a deep breath, I push the words out in a rush, because I know that if I don’t, then I won’t ever get them out. “I went to the library to cyberstalk Kole, and I found some stuff, or well,lack thereofis probably a better explanation. There wasnothingon this guy, Cassie! The only thing I found was that he works at Wellard Asylum and he has a barely active—” Cassie stops me right where I thought she was going to.
“Wait right there, missie, you can’t just speed past that like it’s nothing! He works atWellard Asylum?As in the infamous asylum that houses all the deranged people? You’re joking, right? Saypsychright now!” She yells the words out so loud that I have to pull the phone away from my ear before she bursts my eardrums.
“Uh, well… I don’t really know what to say to you now.” The other end of the line is silent for a few moments, and I almost fear she’s thrown the phone to the ground at this point.
“Sloane, he seriously works at that awful place?” She questions through tight lips.
“Unfortunately…buthe was nurse of the month according to their web page.” I say with as much enthusiasm as I can muster.
“‘Cause that totally makes me feelsomuch better knowing the standards in that hellhole. Sloane, you can’t move in with that man. I don’t care if he’s a nurse or the president of the United States. The fact that he works in that wretched place should be enough for you to say no!” Cassie's words bounce around in my head, and I know that she’s right. That asylum only houses the worst of the worst, so it makes sense if they also employ the worst of the worst to keep things running smoothly.
“Cass, I know, but I don’t have much of a choice right now. I’m living in mycar…”I drift off, my words stuck in my throat and my nerves shot for the day.
