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Yet here I am. Listing my parents’ killer on the Nemesis Watchlist. I’m feeling conflicted about it, which is why it’s taken meweeksto do it. Initially, I wanted to do it during my first week here, and then I kept telling myself I’d do it the week after, until an entire month flew by. I still can’t let it go, no matter how hard I try.
I know if he’s been let out, he’s paid his dues in the eyes of the law. I shouldn’t be listing him at all, but I can’t help it. I can’t rest easy without eyes on him. I need to know that what he did to my parents won’t happen to anyone else.
My phone buzzes, and I jump, startled out of my thoughts.
Ash:Did you see the new anonymous watch list entry? I assume you approved that?
I hesitate, feeling guiltier by the second. Being on the watchlist means our members will trace his every transaction, his every move, every job application. Anything he does, I’ll know about. I’ve never allowed watch list entries for anyone that isn’t a confirmed criminal on the loose.
Nyx:I did.
Ash:That reminds me. Our death row case was picked up and escalated by the social media team. They pushed it for weeks, until it was picked up by the major news outlets. His execution has been put on hold due to the media pressure, and they’re reinvestigating. I believe that means you owe me a favor, Nyx.
Nyx:You got it, Ash. You worked so hard on this case. Thank you for everything you do.
Ash: You do realize none of this would be possible without you and the amazing platform you’ve built, right? Thank you for being you.
I freeze, surprised. Ash has a habit of saying things that throw me off. Sometimes it’s weird puns and lame pickup lines, and sometimes it’s stuff like this… stuff no one that really knows me would ever say.
I want to reply, but I don’t know what to say. I end up typing a dozen texts, and delete every single one of them, giving up in the end. I put my phone away and climb into bed, my thoughts whirling. I can’t help but overthink my choice, and my mind automatically drifts back to the burglary. Now that I’m older and the wounds aren’t as fresh… I don’t know. I still can’t forgive him, but the gun that killed my parents was their own. It wasn’t an armed robbery. That doesn’t make it right, but I’m also not sure it warrants putting him on a watch list.
My phone buzzes again, and I reach for it, welcoming the distraction.
Ash:I forgot. Compliments turn you into a turtle.
I laugh, startled out of my thoughts. Trust Ash to do that to me.
Nyx:A turtle? What?
Ash:Yep. Compliments make you retreat into your shell. I imagine you like a little turtle, your head disappearing the second someone voices their appreciation of you.
Nyx:Are you hiding in my room somewhere? Are you creeping on me, Ash?
Ash:I wish. Oh, to be in your room, Nyx. I can totally imagine myself in your bed, your body against mine. I bet I could win you over if I spent a night with you.
Nyx:You’re that confident in your skills in bed, huh?
Ash:I actually meant that I’d love to talk to you all night, tell you lame pickup jokes that Google taught me, and make you smile. I’d lie there with you, looking into your eyes, learning what makes you tick... But yeah, in case that fails, there’s always my dick. He’s never let me down before. If I can’t win you over, he can.
I laugh out loud, my heart skipping a beat. How does he do this? How does he make me smile even when I’m having a rough night?
Nyx:You refer to your dick in the third person… of course you do. Does he have a name?
Ash:He doesn’t… I should probably name him.
I giggle and almost drop my phone on my face.
Nyx:Let’s name him Asher. Because, you know… Ash and Asher… he’s the Asher version of you.
Ash:Wow, you need Google. I’m telling you, Google’s pickup lines aren’t half bad. Yours… yours are terrible.
I laugh, wondering if he’s in bed, smiling at his phone, too.
Nyx:I don’t know what you’re talking about… I like Asher.
Ash:Hmm, you like my cock, huh? Because that’s what it is, and that’s what we’re calling it.
Nyx:Look at you, being all cocky. Cock-y, get it?
