Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 140742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 563(@250wpm)___ 469(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 563(@250wpm)___ 469(@300wpm)
I scoff. “He really is a dumb fuck if he thinks that’ll ever happen.”
For the fourth time since I got home, I click the video of the lobby at Onyx that night. My sister looks nervous as she speaks to the hostess, which is unlike her. Behind her, Olivia and Josslyn are smiling as they talk. Seeing her there shoots a wave of possession through me that makes me wish I could jump through the screen and drag her out.
For bullshit reasons, the owner, who’s an acquaintance of my cousin’s, didn’t want to give us the footage from inside the club. It took some convincing, but he finally turned over this video saying it was, “The only footage that survived the fire.” I highly doubt it, but I’ll take it. I hit play and watch as my sister hands over two masks. It was an all-black mandatory mask night, which means everyone was wearing the same fucking mask. I keep my eyes on the three of them as they step inside, when suddenly my sister says something and keeps walking down the hall, while they stay behind.
Olivia and Josslyn walk to the main bar—a safe space where sex is off-limits. There, people can drink, flirt, and give and receive invites to hook up without getting too forceful. The girls take a seat by the bar, and my eyes move to the frame my sister is in. She walks down the hall until she reaches one of the private rooms, which she disappears into. I keep my attention there for a moment, and when nothing happens, I look at the bar again. Two men have now joined the girls, and I watch as Olivia smiles at one of them. The other man is leaning against the bar as he speaks to Josslyn.
I look back up at the hallway my sister was in and still see nothing. When I glance back at the bar again, Olivia is walking out with the man she was just speaking to. The sight of the other man taking the seat Olivia vacated makes my blood boil. As he goes to the bar to get drinks, a blonde woman wearing a bunny outfit walks up to Josslyn.
From the way they’re talking, I can’t tell if the woman is hitting on her or if they know each other. I take my eyes off them and scan the camera that points to the hall, where I see Olivia and that guy leaving the club. I look back at the door my sister entered and shortly after, see a man in a black suit walking in. I replay and watch him walk around the corner and go into the room.
I rewind it again. And again. And again. He has a very similar build to Titus. Very similar. Too similar. He’s wearing a mask, though, so I already know this won’t count for anything. I replay it one more time, then let it play out. A few minutes after he goes in there, the feed goes dark, along with the rest of the cameras. What the fuck?
I play it again, and finally, go to my next email, which has the latest pictures my PI sent me. In one of them, Titus is walking out of his downtown office with a man and woman who look a little older than him. The note from my PI says, “Two days ago. Old friends of his. They own a construction company.” I don’t open the rest of them because I’ve learned that my PI notes ones I might take interest in, and this wasn’t one.
The next picture is Josslyn running at the park wearing a neon green sports bra and tiny matching biker shorts. The note from the PI reads, “This morning. Ran at the park and played a pickup basketball game.” This time, I click to see the rest of the pictures. I’m shocked she was there this morning. Was it before or after I spoke to her? She’s the only woman on the court, and some of the guys are well over a foot taller than her.
I can’t imagine why she thought it would be a good idea to join them. In some of them, she’s shooting the ball. In others, she’s crossing it over and getting past the tall guy covering her. In one, he blocks it easily and grins at her as she sticks her tongue out at him. In the next, she falls and visibly scrapes her knee. In the one that follows, the same guy is leaning down and inspecting her knee. That’s where the pictures end. Who is he? What happened next? Did he take her somewhere?
A strange feeling comes over me as I keep scrolling. It’s clear that they know each other. That, or they hit it off at the park this morning. For some reason, I can’t stand the thought. After the tenth one, I stop looking and log onto the first social media icon I find. My heart leaps to my throat when I see a pre-recorded video of Josslyn wearing a black bikini. A tiny black bikini. Miniscule. She’s talking about the pool party she probably won’t go to, but asks them to vote for the outfit she should wear if she decides to go. My fingers itch to type “NOT A BIKINI,” but I don’t.