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I snap another picture, this time of my crotch with the bulge in my gray sweatpants very obvious.
Bullistic: look how lonely. No one here to play with me. Should I play with myself?
Mel: Don’t you dare! That belongs to me.
Holy fuck. A thrilling little jolt runs up my spine at her message and my cock is all the way hard in a second.
Bullistic: Yes, Ma’am!
There’s a pause. I’m not ready to let the conversation drop, but I don’t want to disobey her. I need something to take my mind off playing.
Bullistic: then will you distract me, My Lady? Maybe you could tell me who I should kill for forcing you to sleep in your car last night.
Three dots appear on the screen, then disappear, then reappear, and my heart lurches. I was being flippant. Maybe I’ve upset her. Maybe I shouldn’t have raised the issue again. It was clear she wasn’t ready to talk about it earlier.
Then she responds.
Mel: I know you’re only joking. And for your information, it was my ex.
Mel: It’s complicated. I didn’t think he knew where we live. Now I’m not sure if I should be worried or not.
Bile rises in my throat. I stalk to the kitchen and pour a glass of water, then change my mind and pour a glass of whiskey. Even that doesn’t erase the bitter taste in my mouth. But I can’t solve this problem for her. She won’t let me. I can be an ear to listen, though.
Forcing myself to stay calm, I type back.
Bullistic: what worries you?
Mel: he never actually hurt me.
I let out a long huff of breath and set my glass of whiskey back on the table.
Mel: It’s not like that. And he’d never hurt the kids. He just likes to control everything. When we were together, he used to have everything in his name. Bank accounts, lease. Everything
There’s a pause. I’m still weighing up what to say.
Mel: God, sorry. I don’t know why I’m telling you all this. Should we just go back to dick pics?
Bullistic: No!
Bullistic: I mean my dick is yours whenever you command, but I’m glad you could tell me. I’m here to listen. I’m here for whatever you need
Mel: thank you xx
I put down my phone, certain she’s cutting me off. When I check it a few minutes later, though, she’s sent another message.
Mel: I’m so mad. I’m mad that I thought I got away, and here he is again, barging in, sneaking back into my life when I don’t want him around. But how can I deny that he has a right to see his kids?
I scratch the base of my horns. This is tricky. I know what my gut’s telling me: she should get a whole team of lawyers to make sure he can’t set foot within half a mile of her or the kids. But I’ve seen the way Mel works. That’s not who she is. Not unless he has to. She’s trying to be a good mom to those kids despite what it costs her.
Bullistic: he scared you last night. That’s not OK. You’re not a bad mom for making sure he can’t do that again. Does he know where your sister lives?
Mel: No. I don’t think so
Bullistic: good. If anything changes, or if you need somewhere to go, I will arrange it. I mean it. Doesn’t have to be here. Can be a new apartment, a hotel. Anything. I can transfer you the cash and you can arrange it yourself so I don’t even have to know where.
I get a little work done after that.
Not half as much as I should, though. It makes me feel better to know she confided in me, if only a little.
