Page 46 of Written in Sin
I give him a quick nod, thinking if only it was as simple as he makes this seem. I look down, my fingers brushing over it lightly. It’s a simple black card with no name, just a number. The image of it sends a ripple of doubt through me. It’s so impersonal and detached. I never imagined my life would feel so wrong. I used to fantasize about leaving home and being my own person. But it feels like who I am, I can no longer be. I’m not sure what’s waiting for me or if the offer of help is as easy as he’s making it sound. But I don’t have the luxury of turning any of this down, and even I can see that there’s no point in being defiant or curious. “Thanks,” I say, my voice sounding unfamiliar.
I press the power button on the side and the screen flickers to life. The phone is already set up, just like he said. It’s clean. No messages. No missed calls. No saved contacts. Just an empty device. I glance over at him, my fingers tighten around the phone. “There’s nothing on here.” My head shakes, and I lookup, meeting his eyes. “No number. No way to reach you. Kind of feels like you forgot the part where I might need to contact you.” He sees the question before I even finish asking it.
“Trust me, if I could leave a number, if I could give you something, I would. But that’s not how this works.”
He crosses his arms and leans back in his chair. “You’re going to be okay. You’re going to build a life, one that’s yours. You don’t need my phone number for that.” The words land harder than they should. I don’t even know him, he’s a stranger, but something about hearing it out loud still gets to me.
“So that’s it?” My voice cracks despite me trying to keep it steady. “I’m just on my own?”
Nathaniel puts his elbows on the table, placing his head in his hands. “You’re going to be fine,” he says, almost like he’s seen it before. “I know you don’t believe it right this moment, but you will. You don’t need to have it all figured out right now.” I don’t even know what “fine” means anymore. I shake my head, staring at the screen again, thinking maybe if I look long enough a name will appear.
“I don’t even know where to start.”
“Look. No one expects you to have a roadmap, and I certainly don’t have one I can give you.”
I blink, fighting the lump in my throat. Loneliness isn’t new to me. I just hate that I have gotten used to not being lonely. Used to having him. His voice softens. “We’re all alone at the beginning of this journey. I was. Others were. You will find your way, just like we did.” I eye him up and down, looking at his small frame. There’s something about the sharpness of his features and those light eyes that haven’t stopped scanning my face since he entered the room.
I drop my shoulders, letting the weight of it settle. The idea of being alone for the first time in my life. Something I hadwanted at one time so badly, now feels distant, and I can’t even remember why I ever wanted it at all.
It isn’t some big revelation, it’s just the bitter truth—that some paths you have to walk on your own, bound by something you can’t escape. And that’s exactly what I am—because if someone is coming for me, it won’t be to save me.
Epilogue
Catarina
My heart pounds in my chest and my feet come to an abrupt stop on the sidewalk as I walk toward the entrance of my destination. I blink a few times before realizing it was all in my head. It’s been two years since I ran. Two years since I saw his brown eyes. I’ve started to see him in strangers’ faces more than normal now.
I brush the sudden onset of nausea away and push through the heavy glass doors just as the elevator dings. The sound kicks my movements in gear. I start running so I don’t miss the ride up and I catch it just in time, pressing the button before the doors shut, sliding open with a soft hiss.
Ashley’s waiting for me when I step out, whispering, “She’s with a client, so we have to be quiet.”
“And you’re laughing, why?”
“Because you’re never quiet,” she answers. We tiptoe over and I raise my finger to my lips, shushing her. I stop at the door, hoping I can catch a piece of the show. We both press listen to Charlotte speak on the other side.
“I think politicians who introduce bills they know will catch the attention of the media, do it just to rile people up because they’ve got a degradation kink. Don’t you? You little slut.” A wet sound follows, and I’m pretty sure it’s spit.
My eyes widen and I look at Ashley. “Who the hell is in there?”
She lifts her shoulders. “Virtual client.”
“You’re not a leader.” Her voice is loud, even through the door. “You’re a toilet in a suit. Isn’t that right, you little shit stain?” I put my hand over my mouth but it’s not enough. We both head out the balcony before I blow our cover. When the session ends, she steps outside to join us. Her red hair is pulled back from her face. I turn when I hear the doors glide open. “So, who was the lucky recipient?”
She smirks. “No one important, just another politician with a humiliation fetish.”
I don’t know how she does it. “How’d you even find him?”
She lifts her shoulders, shrugging. “I posted something online.”
Ashley gets excited and pulls out her phone. “Let me read it to you.” She looks at a smirking Charlotte who now sits in a plastic patio chair, propping her feet up on the railing. “Genuine question, and I promise not to bully you. What’s your party approved answer when asked about our state's election scheme?”
Charlotte stands and walks to the kitchen, yelling over her shoulder, “It worked. He replied, ‘What if I want you to bully me?’ So I did some digging. Found out who he was. Told him my rate was astronomical and that I’d only tolerate one session. He still agreed and paid up front.”
“What’d you do with the money?” She walks back out with a brown paper bag.
“I donated every cent to Planned Parenthood.”
“And if he finds out?” I question.
