WEBVTT

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When I first started out as a corrections officer,

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I was told to keep an eye out for the bad ones,

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or the influences. As a woman, it was easy to

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get trapped, to get caught up in the life of

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a criminal. But at 25, I thought I had my head

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on straight. I thought I had everything under

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control. And it stayed that way for two years.

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I kept my head down, did my job, and kept those

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criminals in line. That was… until Vince Trevato

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came into my life. He was booked for assault

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and possession of a deadly weapon. He's also

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known to be in a gang. I got transferred to the

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night shift, which meant I saw him every minute,

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every second. And I don't know. There was just

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something about this man that drew me in. Vince

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has this smirk, a smile that calls to me, a sweet

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and dangerous one, just on the edge of trouble.

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And then the tattoos. They are different. I've

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seen tattoos over the years. But on him? They

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look good. They look fucking sexy. Vince is the

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solid build of a guy who frequents the gym and

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can pick me up with one hand. I'm a relatively

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big girl, so I know what I'm saying. He has a

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deep tan and a look my mom warned me about. Like

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the bad boy in high school. The kind that gets

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you in trouble and disappears when you're stuck

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in a rut. But every night, when I do my rounds,

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Vince is standing at the bars, looking at me.

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I'll stop, take one good look at him, and he'll

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smile, just like I always imagined. I'm getting

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out tomorrow, he says, and it takes me by surprise.

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Guys like him didn't just walk out, they stay

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in or get transferred to the worst of the worst.

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So that means either he has a damn good lawyer,

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Or the guy he works for has high people in their

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pocket. I guess that's a good thing, I say. Are

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you gonna miss me? I shake my head. I'm not even

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supposed to be talking to him. And yet, here

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I am. I'm gonna miss those thick thighs of yours.

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And those beautiful lips. I can't say the same

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about you. Oh, come on. There's gotta be something

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you'll miss. I don't even know you. You know

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me enough to stop and talk to me tonight. I didn't

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respond. Just stared down the hallway where I

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should have been moments ago. Don't worry, babe.

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I'll find you. That stops me cold. Find me? He

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winks. Go on. Don't give them the wrong idea.

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Then he turns around and heads back to his bed.

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Good night, sweet thing. At first, I don't think

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anything of what Vince said. After all, he's

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just a criminal with a good lawyer. But when

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I come back the next day, he's gone. Just like

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he said. I get off my shift that morning, and

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as I'm driving home, my phone rings. It's an

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unidentified number, but I answer anyway. It

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could be my brother. He's always had a thing

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for burner phones. Yes? I answer. Hello, sweet

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thing. A chill runs through my spine at the sound

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of his voice. How did you get my number? It's

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quite easy. Missed me? I hang up. My heart's

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racing. And I have to pull off to the side of

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the road. I've done it. I've finally done the

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exact thing I swore I'd never do when I started

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this job. I played with the devils. And now,

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they want me. I take a breath, then another.

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By the time I'm home, I'm staring at my phone,

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thinking maybe he'll call back. But he doesn't.

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Not that night. Not the next. Not even the one

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after that. But five days later. I'm on my way

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to my mom's house for the weekend when my phone

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rings again. It's a different number, but I answer.

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Are you gonna hang up on me now? That depends.

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What? You don't want to talk to me. How did you

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get my number? It's not that hard, actually.

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Are you scared? No. Good. Should I be scared?

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I don't know. Maybe you should tell me. What

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do you want from me? I want to see you. That's

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going to be impossible. Make it possible, sweet

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cake. Or do I have to come find you myself? I

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go quiet. I'm parked outside my mom's house.

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A glance up tells me she's standing on the porch,

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probably wondering why I'm still in the car.

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She'll be walking over any minute now. Listen,

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I say to Vince, I'm busy right now. I can't talk.

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So you want a rain check? No, I need you to stop

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calling me. I don't think I can do that. Then

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try. I hang up and step out of my car. I don't

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know why, but this thing between us, this banter,

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feels good. It's edgy, dangerous. But I'm playing.

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I'm literally playing at the devil's door. Because

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why the hell do I want this so badly? Am I really

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that bored with my life that I'd consider a rendezvous

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with a criminal? I fix my dress, close the car

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door. and smile as I walk up the cobblestone

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path toward my mom and her sister. What were

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you doing in the car so long? Mom asks. I was

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on a phone call. Work thing. Sorry. That's alright.

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My phone buzzes again. I ignore it. Well, you

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can answer it. No, I'm fine. But I'm not. I'm

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itching to answer it. Itching to hear that deep,

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wicked voice. This man has me in a chokehold.

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and I don't know why. The day is almost over,

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and not once has Vince called me back. I've been

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on edge the entire evening because of that. Because

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I want him to. But he doesn't. And now I'm a

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wreck. I leave my mom's place and drive home,

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thinking maybe, just maybe, he'll know I'm home.

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But still, nothing. I wait another week. An entire

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week. And when he finally calls, I answer without

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hesitation. Someone's quick to answer. He says,

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I thought it was my mom. He laughs, deep and

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unfiltered. And damn it, I smile. It's good to

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know I can make him laugh. Your mom. So you do

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have a mom. Instant regret. Shouldn't have said

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that. It's okay. He murmurs. You don't have to

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lie. Your secret's safe with me. What secret?

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Nothing. So, are you ready for me to see you?

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No. Then I guess I'll have to come to you. You

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don't know where I live. The moment it leaves

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my mouth, he recites my address like he's known

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it his whole life. Like it's his own damn nursery

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rhyme. I suck in a sharp breath. How did you

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know that? I told you. It's easy to know things.

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Have you been watching me? Do you want me to

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watch you? I stay quiet. I guess you do. I never

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answered you. Would it turn you on to know I'm

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watching? Again, I'm silent. Because the idea

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crawls over my skin and burns down through my

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veins. I hate it. And I fucking want it. You're

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liking this, aren't you? I don't know who you

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are. I'm not going to trust a criminal and a

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stranger. Then don't trust me, Angela. Now he

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knows my name. I've never given him my name.

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Shit. So, you got a boyfriend? Yes. I answer

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too quickly. He tisks his tongue. I don't believe

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you. Why? Because the entire time I've been watching,

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not once have you had a guy over. Silence. This

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is spiraling. He knows too much. This should

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be the end of the call. This is the point where

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I should run. I should alert the police. And

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yet, I stay. So, do you wanna fuck? I swallow

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a lump in my throat. Excuse me? When last have

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you been fucked? That's none of your concern.

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It is now. What do you want from me? There's

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silence for some seconds, but then he says...

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I want us to become friends. Close friends. Sorry,

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I don't acquaint with criminals. Ha ha ha Still

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nothing. Are you always this mum when people

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ask you questions? What do you want, Vince? I

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already told you. I want to see you. I could

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lose my job just speaking with you. You won't.

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Trust me. It's hard to trust a guy I barely know.

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Don't you trust your boss to pay you at the end

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of the month? Even though you don't know them?

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Okay. He says? Let's make it a bit easier. How

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about we video chat? You get to see me, I get

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to see you, and I'm the only one doing the things

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around here. What things? You'll see. I don't

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have a laptop. That's not a problem, sweetheart.

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Tomorrow. We'll do it then, okay? I'm confused.

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Do what? You'll see. Don't worry. I've got you.

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I still don't say anything. I feel like every

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word is digging me deeper. Like if I speak, I'll

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cross the point of no return. All right. If you

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don't want to say anything, I'll talk to you

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tomorrow. I hang up. I barely sleep. I wake up

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the morning and I'm a fucking wreck. Not even

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three cups of coffee are calming my nerves. Hi,

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sweet cakes. What do you want? Feisty. I've got

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a gift for you. In less than 30 seconds. 20,

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actually. You'll hear a knock at your door. No

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one will be there. But you can collect your gift.

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I shoot to my feet and rush to the door, checking

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the peephole. No one's there. But I hear footsteps.

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Quick, fading. I open the door, and down the

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hallway, a guy disappears around the corner.

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I look down. A decent -sized box sits at my feet,

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wrapped in shiny purple paper. Did you get it?

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I did. Good. Now open it. I head back to my couch,

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tear it open, and freeze. It's a laptop. I stare

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at it like it's glowing. Like it's illegal. And

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maybe it is. Suppose it's stolen. What if I just

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received stolen goods? Where did you get this

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from? An electronics store. He says like it's

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no big deal. Load it up. There's an app on the

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desktop, right below the recycling bin. Click

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it. I open the laptop and boot it up. Just like

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he said, the app is there. I click it. Select

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log in. I do. The camera flicks on automatically

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and suddenly I'm calling him or someone. My gut

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twists. Are you still there? Yes, I say, holding

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the phone taut to my ear. Good. You're calling

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to have a video conversation. When I answer,

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you'll see me. It's up to you if you want me

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to see you. You can turn off your video or leave

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it on. It's your choice. Just mute it and keep

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the call rolling for me. I swallow. Okay. What

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are you doing right now? Sitting on my couch.

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You comfortable? I think so. Good. He answers

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the video call. He's lying in bed, propped up

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against white fluffy pillows. His sheets are

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perfectly tucked, thick and clean, like some

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luxury hotel. The room is softly lit, gray walls,

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padded headboard, serene. But it's him I can't

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stop looking at. Tattoos everywhere, teardrops

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under his eyes, the number 51 on his cheek, skulls

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inked into his neck, stitched symbols around

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his lips. He's all danger. And I'm completely

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drawn to him. There's movement in the background,

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then the laptop lowers onto the bed. Vince steps

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away from the screen for a second, out of frame.

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Want to hang up the phone? He says. You can always

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just listen to the audio. No. I prefer to keep

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it on. You sure? Isn't this your work phone?

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All the more reason to keep it safe from you.

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He laughs. Okay. But I think you'll change your

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mind soon. The camera shifts again, and Vince

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comes back into frame, shirtless, wearing only

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navy blue boxers. He runs his hand across his

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lower stomach, then slowly up over his chest.

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He's built like a brick, and before I can even

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process what's happening, he drops his pants.

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My breath catches. I'm frozen, staring at the

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screen without even blinking. Like what you see?

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He asks. tapping one side of his earpiece. I

00:16:03.929 --> 00:16:07.389
don't answer. Instead, I switch off my camera.

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He laughs low and rough. A little shy, aren't

00:16:11.990 --> 00:16:16.470
you? I still don't say anything. Then he shifts

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his weight, moving one hand over his length,

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slow and deliberate. I can hear him breathing,

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heavy, controlled, turned on. He's hard, fully

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erect. And I hate how much I'm liking what I

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see. This is what you do to me, Anji. He breathes.

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I don't respond. But he can hear my breath. I

00:16:42.370 --> 00:16:47.669
know he can. You watching? I'll stop if you don't

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answer. Yes. I say quietly. Good girl. He turns

00:16:55.309 --> 00:16:58.110
to the side and shows me everything. His full

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length, his profile. the tightness in his butt

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cheeks. It's been a long time since I've seen

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a man like this. Raw, unfiltered, and unapologetic.

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Is this good enough for you? Yes. He smirks and

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rubs his thumb over the tip, slow and purposeful,

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showing me how wet he is. Then he shifts again,

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cock slapping lightly against his thigh with

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every sway of his hips. Taunting me. All of this

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could be for you, but you don't want to see me.

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The screen zooms out slightly, and I realize

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I'm rubbing my own tits, squeezing my thighs

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under the laptop. Good God. And since you don't

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want it, he continues, then someone else shall

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have it. That's when she appears. A woman, long

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black hair, Naked. Slim body. Nothing like me.

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Vince tosses her onto the bed and she yelps playfully.

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He slaps her ass. This could be you. He says,

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climbing behind her. But you love playing games.

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He spits in his hand and strokes his cock. Annoyance

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rises. Jealousy too. And something else. Rage.

00:18:27.669 --> 00:18:33.329
Watch this The moment he plunges inside her I

00:18:33.329 --> 00:18:37.009
hang up fuck him and fuck her too
