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She gave me exactly what I was looking for, and in turn, she acted exactly like I knew she would.
She allowed it, never told me to stop, despite it being harder to handle than when I had pulled her hair and hurt her after finding her in my shower.
She’s into pain and degradation. I found out the pain doesn’t have to be physical.
I wake up alone this morning, which I always knew I would.
The tangible pain is something she can manage. She can treat those wounds with antiseptic and bandages.
It’s the psychological hurt, the emotions that live deep inside of her, that are impossible to cut out, that are the most distressing.
I thought pushing her to her limits would leave marks on her skin, but I found out differently.
Slow, passionate sex, giving her body what it wanted rather than ripping it from her with violence, was her breaking point.
I should feel happy that she’s gone, and I do in a way, but at the same time, her absence in bed this morning also leaves me feeling a little empty myself.
The vacancy, the void inside of me, isn’t a new thing. Noticing it, not liking the barrenness, is what alarms me the most.
I’ve lived my life this way, yearned for the desolation, the lack of anything.
Now it feels like I’m actually missing something.
There’s a sense of loss.
I fucking hate it.
I don’t waste time getting a shower. I dress and gather my limited belongings before scouring my truck for more AirTags. I find two hidden, one just under the driver’s seat and the other crammed into the backseat. I wouldn’t put it past her to have more in the truck, so after driving around town for a while, I drop that truck off at the storage facility I lease space at and grab one of my other vehicles.
I can’t see her again. The ties need to stay severed. I can’t risk the chance of her following me back to my house. It’s not something she’d survive. Intruding at the motel isn’t the same as showing up to her in my home.
I hit the shower not long after entering my house, and her distaste for how we ended our time together becomes evident under the heated spray on my back.
She had to have dug her fingernails there during the slower session because I never gave her the opportunity the first time I took her last night. I stay under the spray, torturing myself with the pain until it fades away. It’s a goodbye of sorts I guess, or maybe it’s a good riddance because the woman has taken up too much of my time, too many thoughts in my head lately to be healthy.
I’m honestly shocked not to find her in my home when I walk out of the bathroom, and it takes me checking the security system connected to my computer for alerts to actually believe she isn’t here.
I ignore the disappointment as I check my phone. I have no notifications from her despite adding my number to her phone when I went through her shit as she slept off her drunkenness.
I have no idea why I did it. It’s not like I’d go running to find her if she called me because she was in trouble.
Lauren Vos is the epitome of you get what you ask for.
She purposely puts herself in dangerous situations because it’s fuel to feed the demons lurking inside of her. It’s going to get her killed and we both know it.
Wanting or even expecting her to change doesn’t count for shit.
The only thing that sets my skin on fire is knowing I won’t be the one to teach her that final lesson.
Her behavior is going to get her killed. We both know it.
She’s going to die a horrific death, and she seems to be getting closer to that ending with every day that passes. She seems almost relieved that it’s going to happen. Her pain in living is greater than any death could possibly be.
After grabbing a granola bar from the kitchen and making a mental note to go grocery shopping after being gone for nearly a month, I head to my office.
I had software running the entire time I was gone, but nothing seems to catch my eye. I don’t take jobs under a certain threshold, but even the higher paid jobs don’t look interesting to me.
Images flash on the screen, matches from missing persons reports that coincide with dark web auctions for the same person, and it makes me wonder if Cerberus uses a program like this. I bet they could solve a lot of these cases if they did.
