Page 44 of Total Exposure

There’s not a lot of variety of food. Lucinda wants me to run out sooner rather than later, so I know she did this on purpose. There’s fruit, a slab of bacon, half a dozen eggs, some lunchmeat that looks to be turkey or chicken, a tomato, a head of lettuce, and butter.

In the pantry I find nothing but a single loaf of white bread.

Yeah, this is not gonna last more than a few days. I suppose she didn’t want to spend too much money on groceries when I could bail out on day one.

And almost did, I remind myself.

But I’m still here. Thanks to the stranger.

I make bacon, eggs, and toast with butter and scarf it down so fast, I regret not making more.

But I’m eager to see what’s next from my stranger. So I go upstairs and take a shower. I don’t see a camera in the shower, but he’s clever, right? There could be one. So I pretend there is one. I wash myself seductively, soaping up my breasts and rubbing bubbles between my legs until I have to close my eyes.

And then I feel stupid because I’m like ninety-nine percent sure there’s no camera in here, even though I wouldn’t mind if there was.

When I get out, I realize my suitcases are still downstairs.

There’s a brief moment when I consider walking down to get them…naked.

What would he do?

Would he like that?

The heat between my legs and the quiver in my stomach are back.

I’m kinda horny. I might like to masturbate and take care of that.

Instead, I wrap the towel tightly around my body and snap back to my senses. I’ve just been so alone for so long, these small flickers of attention are enough to make me irrational.

He’s probably old, I tell myself. And not my type.

Do I even have a type?

I laugh out loud at that as I make my way over to the double doors, but stop short when I pull them open.

Because my suitcases are already there. At the top of the stairs. Right outside my bedroom door. And there’s a note attached to them.

Evangeline, it says on the outside.

Take off that towel. Find the black panties and bra, the white sweater and the gray pants, and put them on. Then put on your coat and shoes and take a walk outside in the yard.

Don’t forget… I’m watching you.

X

Is that x as in x? Or an x as in hugs and kisses? Like xxoo?

I look up and find every single camera. Look straight into each one.

Your move, Evangeline, that silence seems to say.

So this is a game, is it?

I should be mad. Pissed off even. That Lucinda told me to come here as a place of safety. Somewhere I could be watched anonymously. Get used to the idea of eyeballs on me twenty-four seven. Get past it, over it, move on with my life and never have to think about my watcher again.

This is not about sex, Evangeline.

Sure, Lucinda. Sure it’s not.