“Let tonight be a reminder,” he says, letting go of me.
“Time for you to go home now, Myssa, until we meet again…” His voice trails off.
And just like that, I’m thrown back into the reality of my bathroom, blood still trickling down my arm, sending droplets to the floor. Instantly, nausea takes over, and after turning to the toilet, I drop to my knees, emptying the contents of my stomach.
Too weak to stand, I lay there, pressing my heated face against the cold tiles of the bathroom floor, and I let the darkness take over.
Chapter 10
Myssa
Although Jasper doesn’t show up in my nightmares again, the lingering sting of his torture still haunts me. A week goes by, and I can’t help but withdraw into my apartment with our interaction playing on repeat in my head. It’s almost as if I'm on autopilot. I’m not even sure who I can tell my truth to—who would believe me? I’m being tossed around in this madness with no understanding.I’ve given excuse after excuse to those who have checked on me the last few days.
But today I woke up with a different mindset. Fuck this asshole, he doesn’t get to win and dictate my life from wherever the hell he is from. I’m not living like a prisoner in my home, afraid of the shadows that lurk in corners. I’m over this bullshit.
My phone buzzes on the kitchen island, and Vix’s name flashes across the screen. This is what I need, a distraction to keep my mind occupied from this crazy mind-fuck I’m living.
Vix: Come to frequency tonight. Miss your face and I haven’t heard from you all week.
Me: Sorry, I have had a lot going on. What time?
Vix: 11 should be good
Me: Ok, I’ll see you then.
Vix: Oh yeah, and Myssa?
Me: Yeah
Vix: It’s Wet Dream Night, bring an extra pair of clothes.
Me: It’s what?
Vix: Just trust me, you are going to love it.
Vix: Gotta go Kthxbyeeee.
I just shake my head—another weird, cryptic message from Vix, but if she’s saying I’m gonna love it, I most likely will.
I decide to pamper myself a little today, feeling I earned it from all the chaos my life has turned into. Mani/Pedi should do the trick.
As I step to the front desk, I let the receptionist know I’m here for my appointment. Denise, my nail tech, waves at me from the back of the room as she comes up to the front.
“Hey, Myssa, the usual?”
“Yes, thank you.”
We walk along the line of pedicure chairs on the side wall until she points to one.
I sit back in the leather chair as she fills up the small tub.
“Earbuds today or no?” she questions.
Here’s the thing about Denise. She gets that some days you wanna talk, and some days you just want an hour of escape.
“Yeah, I’m fried.” If she only knew the half of it.
She nods, putting her own in.
