Page 35 of Nightstalker

“Good luck Jasmin, see you around.” Before I could say anything he started to walk away.

“What the fuck!” My shrill voice surprised even me.

I needed to just shut the hell up and let him walk away before I embarrassed myself any further.

“What sweetheart? Do you want a thank you?”

Oh hell no, my temper had reached thermonuclear again and the verbal vomit was about to spew. I could not hold back, “Go fuck yourself with that condescending sweetheart shit. I was so God damn wrong about you with all your “sweet Jasmin’s” and “you’re safe” bullshit! You didn’t need all the flowery words to get me to fuck you, you piece of shit. You can take your thank you and shove it straight up your ass! Go to hell you fake ass liar.”

Nothing fazed him. His mask was firmly in place. His eyes didn’t even flare with anger when I cussed at him. Dead. Nothing.

“You should be happy. Now you have six orgasms to walk away with. This is all on you Jasmin. I asked you to cool your jets and listen to me, warned you that you were making bad plays. Your ass would not listen. Now all you get is your orgasms. That is the only part of me you will ever get. My dick. You wanna come again, no problem, you have a tight ass pussy, and its good. I am happy to oblige but there will be no “please baby’s”, no kissing, or cuddling bullshit. Straight up fucking, Jasmin. That is all this ever was to you anyway, so why are you acting all hurt and shit?” He laid me out with a few well-placed words, using my own against me.

Shit and damn! I fucked up so bad. Why couldn’t I just spit out the words “I’m sorry” or, more accurately, “I was wrong”? Thinking back, I don’t think I have ever uttered those words to anyone in my life. I don’t even know how to say them out loud.

He must have grown impatient waiting for my response, because he just shook his head and walked away, leaving me standing there alone. Fuck my life! How did it come to this? Hot tears started flowing down my cheeks. I made no attempt to stop them, leaning my back against the wall I just screwed Lincoln against. I slid down, sitting on the ground with my knees curled up. I hugged my knees to my chest and buried my face in my crossed arms. So I was going to have a mini pity party, a party for one. I damn well deserved it. My life had turned into shit and the nervous fucking break down was coming.

“Jas.” Shit and damn, it was Eric.

My mortification was now complete, “How much did you hear?” I asked as I wiped my eyes, trying to conceal the evidence of my weakness.

Eric sat down next to me and lifted my face to meet his eyes. For once they were not masked with the humor he hid behind.

“Enough.” He wiped a tear from my cheek.

“Fucking A, it just gets better and better. Poor little Jasmin crying like a bitch after she gets nailed like a whore.” He flinched at my words.

“Don’t. Don’t you fucking dare call yourself a whore! A woman who has sex with the man she loves is not a whore. I don’t care where it’s done.” His vehement response surprised me.

“Love? Who the hell said anything about love?” I scoffed.

“Come on Jasmin, it’s time you watch the next video.” Eric stood, grabbing my hand to pull me up.

Still reeling from his use of the L word, I followed him, not saying another word. Making our way back into the house, the living room was empty. I didn’t even bother to ask where Z and my uncle went. I just stared at the laptop that sat on the coffee table like it was a poisonous snake ready to snap out and bite me. How could something as simple as a laptop unravel my life?

“Do you want me to stay while you watch?” Eric’s voice was filled with compassion.

“No, I need to do this alone. Thank you though.”

Sitting down on the couch I placed the laptop on my lap and pressed play.

Suddenly I was on the screen; my hair was pulled up into a ponytail, a wide smile across my face. Lincoln was sitting next to me holding my hand. Scanning the video for details of the room we were sitting in, it looked to be a doctor’s office. A dark walnut desk full of papers, bookshelves full of books behind it, and framed diplomas hung on the wall. A short older man came into the frame and sat in the third chair next to Lincoln and I instead of behind the desk.

“Laura, how are you feeling today?” The doctor asked in a thick German accent.

“Much better thank you, doctor.”

I smiled over at Lincoln. He brought our joined hands up to his lips and kissed mine. The gesture was so tender and loving.

“How are the night terrors?” The doctor posed his question towards Lincoln.

“She is still having one to two a night. Some nights she can get back to sleep easily, some nights we have to stay up, and, let’s just say, find more creative ways to exhaust her,” Lincoln replied to the doctor.

I focused on my face to watch the blush I knew was coming creep up my cheeks. Sure enough, my face flushed pink. Damn that man was sexy as hell.

“Good, good, it is important to find ways to rest and heal. Have you thought anymore on the treatment we discussed?” The doctor asked me.

“Yes, we discussed it and we think it is best to try the treatment. My terrors are not getting better, but it is the seizures we are most worried about,” I answered.