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Page 9 of Written in the Scars

Hello, Ace!

I hope you didn’t change your mind.

Not when you’ve already given your whole self to me.

Orion.

That sweet tingle between my thighs starts up again. Argh, it’s only a message, yet my pussy betrays me. I attempt to rush across the street, to make my way to him, I hate being late. Shoving the dark figure to the back of my mind. A loud car horn and screeching brakes alert me, my body jumping back onto the pavement.

I watch as the black SUV pulls into the alleyway behind Crawl.

There it is. Finally, I have something.

While it may be nothing, it’s the first detail that has stood out and might be a possible lead to this dead end story. Keeping my phone in hand, I follow in its path, crossing the road successfully. This time I notice the dark figure has moved and I’ve still no sight of Orion.

I will only be a few minutes, I slowly make my way through the alley, it's grim but well lit from the orange lights above the side doors of each building. The loud engine cuts off, leaving only the sound of the streets behind me. I open the camera on my phone and begin to record. Who knows? It might be nothing, but I trust my gut and go for it. Quietly.

The SUV comes back into view as I see three tall scrawny men in suits stand by the bonnet, they are speaking between themselves, but not loud enough for me or the camera to hear them. My movements are slow and cautious as I try to approach, using the large bins to cover me as I try to get closer to the back of the car.

I’m overwhelmed by the whiff of some god-awful smell.

And then, nothing.

Orion

Her face told me everything I needed to know when she put that dress on, how she enjoyed the feel of the fabric caressing her skin and adding the choker. That small detail had my cock begging to be back inside her. Clever girl, she knew exactly what she was doing there.

I sent her another message twenty minutes ago, apologising for being a few minutes late, walking up the steps hesitantly as I enter the front entrance, maybe she came in already. I wouldn’t blame her, it's unusually busy tonight, maybe there’s an event of which I wasn’t aware of.

Making my way past the large queue to the cloak room, I assess everyone, hoping to link eye contact with those big green jewels of hers. Regretting blocking my number as I wander round the bar and not seeing her anywhere. The place isn’t too busy inside, so it doesn’t take long to do the rounds and the majority of the people in here are men, which is the norm here. I notice the 5ftblonde bartender I saw Reagan speaking with the first night I saw her.

“Excuse me”, I say, pulling my phone out of my pocket, “Have you seen this woman?” I sound desperate and slightly stalker-like, but I stand my ground as she looks at the picture of Reagan. “No, not since my last shift. Got stood up?” Her voice is lower than I expected, but playful as she gives me a wink. “It's starting to look like that, thanks anyway.” I head back to the entrance and slump against the handrail, opening up the camera footage from her room.

I rewatch as she puts everything in her bag, puts her shoes on and leaves the room. She was dressed to be here, so I pull up her number and press the call button. The obnoxious sound of the dial tone fills my ear, it rings twice before it cuts off.

Did she just hang up on me?

I try again, looking around in case she is close by, but nothing and the call cuts out again.

I’m starting to feel a little pissed off now, it’s been nearly an hour at this point. She could at least have the decency to answer and say she isn’t coming. Standing up straight I make my way towards the busy streets, pushing my way through the groups of people.

I keep the camera footage on my screen, watching for her to return. I keep calling as I make my way towards her apartment building, anyone would tell me that my actions are somewhat extreme, to wait longer or to just forget about her. Firstly, Iam extreme, everything I do, all or nothing. Secondly, I’m not forgetting about this woman, I couldn’t if I tried, the hold she has over me, has me obsessed and I’m not letting her get away.

Reaching her building, I make my way straight to her door. I may knock a little more aggressively than necessary, but I’m agitated, I ring again as I wait, and I hear nothing. No footsteps, No TV, and No ringtone. Unless she is passed out on the sofa and her phone is silent, she isn’t here. I knock again to make sure Selene doesn’t answer, I swipe my hand along the top of the door frame.

Not so clever, little girl. I grab the spare key. Way too many people leave a spare key on their door frames. A stupid mistake, if you ask me. Opening the door, a lamp is on in the corner of the living room but no Reagan. “Ace?”, my voice carries down the hall, my eyes scanning the kitchen as I walk further away, opening doors as I move past them.

She’s not here.

Orion

Sat in my recently redesigned home office, I keep flicking through the different video feeds playing across the four screens in front of me, the desk opposite tormenting me. She should be here, I keep imagining her sitting there, wearing only one of my t-shirts as she continues to work on her stories and free for me to take her whenever I want.

I added more cameras around her apartment while Selene was at work. I've been monitoring her whereabouts in hopes she would lead me to Reagan. I’ve noticed she has grown concerned over her friend not being home now, she keeps checking her bedroom and trying to call her phone. Her phone’s been off since I made hundreds of calls the night she went missing.

Now not even Frank can track it.

The last pin from her phone was by Crawl, so she did come to meet me, she just didn’t make it. I’ve been back each night in hopes that someone has seen her. Frank is in the process ofhacking street cameras, he’s turned his phone off now too. Sick of all my calls for an update.




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