by Tia Lewis
“I didn’t think to ask, and he's never said anything that made me think he did.”
My father nodded, looking grim. “Where’s he from? When is his birthday?”
“I’m not sure.” My stomach sank with every new question as evidence piled up against me.
“Then what do you even know about him, Sophie? You’ve been sneaking out of your home—the home I provide for you—to meet up with a complete stranger, and you expect me to be happy about it?” He was starting to get angry.
“He’s not a complete stranger, Dad! We’ve been talking for nearly two months now. No, I don’t know every detail about his life, but I know he wouldn’t do anything to hurt me. I know he’s not a bad person.”
I thought my father was about to blow his stack. I really did.
“How can you possibly know that? You can never know everything about someone. God, your mother and I have been married for over twenty years, and there are still some things we don’t know about each other. We’ve slept side by side for all that time, and she can still surprise me sometimes. You can’t confidently tell me this guy is good news because you haven’t been around him long enough. There hasn’t been enough time for you to know what he’s like when you’re not around. People are good at hiding the bad things about themselves, to make themselves seem like their best self. That’s what dating’s all about, really—and why relationships and even marriages go sour. You’re supposed to find out about a person before you commit yourself to them, but there has to be enough time for all those masks to fall away and the real person to come out. Do you understand? Two months is nothing!”
My head spun. I knew, in a deep part of my heart, that my father was right. He made a good point. But he didn’t know Preston. He didn’t know how things were between us.
“You can’t trust him, Sophie. Not yet. Think with your brain instead of your heart. You’ve only known him for two months and already you’re lying to us, sneaking out even when you’re grounded. Covering for him. Honestly, sweetheart, do you think he would drive you to do things like this if he actually cared about you?”
Defensiveness crept up, threatening to explode from me. Preston was everything to me. If he wasn’t a good person, well, maybe I didn’t want to be a good person, either. I only wanted him.
I started convincing myself my father didn’t know what he was talking about. I felt myself disconnecting from the conversation—nothing I said would convince him, anyway, so what was the point? I started pulling away, going elsewhere in my mind. Maybe I should have lied about everything, after all. Now, my parents would think I had met some monster on the internet. I couldn’t share anymore with him. It was better to end the conversation where it was, rather than trying to explain myself.
I smiled ruefully. “You’re right, Dad. I do need to be more careful. I’m glad we had this talk.” I stood up, then leaned down to hug him. I hoped he didn’t smell Preston on me. That would only bring even more wrath down on my head. But he didn’t seem to notice, thank God.
“I love you, sweetheart.” My father held me by the shoulders, standing as he did. His face was stern. “I have a bad feeling about this guy. I’m worried there’s more to the situation than you’re aware of.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not sure yet. I’d like to do a little digging and see what I can find out about him. What do you think?”
It was all I could do to keep from laughing. “Sure. Go for it. I know we would both feel better if you did.”
Because he wouldn’t find a thing. Then again… would that only make him more suspicious? I felt a pit of worry land in my stomach.
I grabbed my purse and went up to my bedroom. The first thing I did was take the little red package out of my purse and slide it far along the shelf in my closet, until it was near the very back. I placed a stack of sweaters in front of it, just in case. And just in time, too, since there was a knock at my door.
My father was there, holding my computer and phone. “You forgot these.”
“What?”
“You can have them back. Just because I don’t trust him doesn’t mean I don’t trust you. I only ask you to do one thing.”
“What’s that?” I took them from him, placing them on the desk.
“If you want to leave the house between now and when you leave for school, please let your mother or I know where you’ll be and when you’ll be back. Otherwise, I’ll assume you’re in your room. But if anything should happen… Well, I’d want to know where you were last, at least.”
“Dad, don’t let this spiral out of control in your head. This isn’t an episode of some police show.”
“I realize that… but you’d be surprised how true-to-life those shows can be.” Great, my father thought I was dating a psycho. I gave him a hug.
As he was about to leave, he turned at the last moment. “If you do choose to leave without telling us where you’re going, there will be consequences.”
I nodded. “Yes. I know, Dad. Understood.”
Once I was alone again, I breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Even though I didn’t need the computer or phone, since I had others, it felt good to have them back. I opened both to see if my parents had gone through anything, but it looked as though everything was just as I’d left it. Not like they’d know how to access any of the truly damning materials, anyway.
I couldn’t stop playing my father’s words over in my mind, even though I knew he was wrong. How well did I know Preston? I could never know everything about someone. Still, that didn’t mean that what I didn’t know was bad, per se. It was parental paranoia, simple as that. I’d never dated before, so an entire five or six years of over-protectiveness was coming out all at once.
So why didn’t I feel any better? Maybe because I was walking the line between my parents and Preston and didn’t know if I could keep living a double life. I wasn’t any good at lying to them, that was for sure. All of my lies came back to bite me. And they made me feel terrible on top of everything else. I felt gross, dirty, ashamed of myself for trying to deceive them. It was one thing to lie by omission—like about hacking, which I never told them about—but it was another to actively lie with the intent to deceive them.
I wasn’t hungry, and when my mother called me down for dinner, I didn’t go downstairs. I spent the rest of the night lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. Trying to make heads or tails of my conflicting emotions.
Chapter 18
When I woke up the next morning, I felt like a new person. Things really did have a way of looking better after a good night’s sleep.
I had to stop thinking of my situation as a “me and Preston” or a “me and my parents” scenario. I’d lost sight of the big picture. The most important thing was the work of The Alliance. Nothing else mattered more than that.
As I cooked breakfast for myself, my parents already long gone, I reminded myself that the group’s work was the reason I’d gotten involved with Preston in the first place. They wanted the same things I did. I wanted to be part of them, to make the world a better place. I wanted to use my skills to give people the freedom they deserved. My mission, just like the group’s mission, was to expose how corrupt our government had become. I had the feeling Boxutrin was just the tip of the iceberg—there were probably dozens, maybe hundreds, of things the government slid behind our backs in the form of indecipherable bills that only benefited the rich while hurting the poor. And the world deserved to know the truth. I had an opportunity to uncover that truth. I needed to regain my focus.
Sure, Preston made me feel good. I couldn’t sit down to eat, or do much of anything, without remembering that. But he was only part of the story. So were my parents. What mattered was the work. That had to come first.
I was going to make a difference. I was going to blaze my trail, just like I’d always hoped I would. Nothing would stop me. So what if I had to lie to my parents a few times to protect my work? It was nothing in the grand scheme of things, and it
was all for a good cause.
My nerves buzzed as I thought about the meeting coming up that night. I could hardly wait.
As I finished eating, I texted Preston from the cell phone he’d given me. I couldn’t be too careful—my phone could be confiscated at any time.
Good morning, I texted. How did you sleep?
Good morning, beautiful. I slept well. How about you?
Not bad. I stayed awake for a while, thinking.
What were you thinking about?
You. What do you think?
Hopefully, they were all good thoughts.
Of course.
Did you hide the package?
Yep.
Good. Remember, you’ll need that for our meeting. 10 pm at the address I gave you yesterday.
Yes, sir.
I spent the rest of the day preparing for the meeting. Preston wouldn’t tell me what we were doing there, and I had no idea who I was going to meet. I thought it would be best to refresh myself on everything group related, so I reviewed the documents I’d worked on and read through the group’s recent blog post. I had to look like I belonged, like I had earned my place.
I wondered if any of the other members knew about my relationship with their leader. Did he tell any of them that we’d developed a personal relationship? I couldn’t imagine—he was such a private person.
Then, another thought hit me. Had Preston been intimate with any of the other women? Was that his method? Would they know what was going on between us as soon as I was introduced as the new member? A sour taste filled my mouth as I considered it. No. He would never do that. I was special to him. He’d told me so.
I made it a point to have dinner with my parents that night. It was important to rebuild our relationship and the trust between us.
I should’ve known I wouldn’t have the chance to cut into my turkey without my father pouncing.
“So. I did a little research on your new friend,” he began.
I was careful not to flinch or even react at all. “Oh, yeah? What came of it?”
“That’s the interesting part. I wanted to browse around online to see what I could see, but there doesn’t seem to be anything. I thought I’d at least find a social media account, maybe an image. But… nothing. It’s like he doesn’t exist.” Old Sherlock Holmes clearly thought he was onto something. Well, he was, in a way. I lost my appetite.
“What do you mean? What did you think you would find? A police record full of manslaughter charges? Maybe a list of all the women he’d lied to online?” I forced a forkful of food into my mouth, chewing even though it tasted like sawdust.
My father smirked. “No, but I did hope to find something proving he was a real person. Did you give me a fake name?”
“No, of course not.”
“So, what’s the story?”
I shrugged. “Some people like to protect their privacy, is all.”
“Exactly. Which makes me wonder what he’s actually trying to protect.”
“Sometimes I wonder who the attorney is in this house,” I muttered. “I just don’t understand why you assume he’s up to no good. I thought you said you were going to trust me.” I pushed mashed potatoes around on my plate. The urge to leave the table and flee to the sanctuary of my room was tempting, but I couldn’t run. I had to stand my ground.
“Like I said. I trust you. I don’t trust him.”
“Trust my judgment.”
“We’ve already had this discussion. You’re not thinking clearly.”
I sighed. My father sighed. My mother was silent, looking from one of us to the other, like a spectator at a tennis match.
“I’m not sure what I thought I would find,” he admitted. “This whole situation isn’t adding up. Either you’re not telling me something, or he’s not telling you something, but either way—I’ll find out what it is.” He picked up his knife and fork again, resuming his meal.
My mother cleared her throat. “Your father just wants to make sure you’re safe, is all. We’re not telling you that you can’t see him. We’re just asking that you be aware of him. He might not be who he says he is. You need to keep that in mind. Please.” She placed her hand on top of mine, squeezing slightly.
I hated when people worried about me. There was absolutely nothing risky about what I was doing—Preston had already promised that he’d keep me far away from danger, but they’d never believe that. He was always ten steps ahead, making sure I didn’t do anything that would get me in trouble. He was the one risking himself, if anything, and all for the greater good. I hoped there would come a day when I could come clean and tell my parents everything I’d been concealing. They would understand by then. For the time being, however, there was no point in getting upset or trying to convince them he was a good person. They were just going to have to worry for a little longer, until The Alliance’s mission was complete.
“I wish there was something I could say.” I picked at my food again, hoping to change the subject.
“Why don’t you bring him for dinner tomorrow night?” My mother suggested. I almost choked on my meatloaf. What a way to go.
“I don’t know. He’s always working. I’m sure I could introduce you at some point, but he’ll probably need a little advanced warning so he can work his schedule around our meeting.”
No way. No flipping way, not until our work was complete.
“Tomorrow is Saturday. He’s working tomorrow?” My father looked skeptical.
“Yeah. He has a software company…”
“Somebody your age with their own software company?” His eyebrows shot up so far, they nearly left his head.
“I didn’t say he owned it. It’s his father’s. He works Saturdays.”
“That’s great, honey.” My mother smiled supportively.
“Yeah, that’s great,” My father smirked. “The next time he’s free, be sure to invite him. I’d like to have a talk with this young man.”
“Sure, Dad. I know he’d be happy to.” I knew I was lying. I was fairly sure my father knew I was lying. But there was nothing I could do about it.
Dinner couldn’t be over fast enough.
I escaped to my room as soon as I could. The cell phone Preston had given me was in my desk drawer, and I pulled it out to find a series of messages from him.
Instructions for our meeting:
All black. Pants, long sleeves.
A hat. Preferably knit.
Do not take an Uber or cab. Take the subway, walk the rest.
Do not bring phones or any electronic device.
Confirm receipt.
My entire body hummed. My first meeting. But… why all black? Why a hat? I pushed my concerns aside long enough to reply. Got it.
He started typing a new text. I waited with bated breath for it to appear.
You can open the red package now.
Jeez, I’d only been waiting long enough. That little box had been burning a hole in my brain for an entire day. I reached back to where I’d hidden it, sliding it from its spot.
I sat on the bed, hands shaking just a little. What was inside? What could I need for the meeting? I undid the red wrapping. A black box was beneath. I pulled the top of the box away. What greeted my eyes was something I’d never seen before. I pulled it out, my brow creased with confusion.
I had to ask. What is it?
An accessory I’d like you to wear tonight.
An accessory? I held the rubber device and examined it from all angles. It looked like a penis, really, with an extension at the base that had a little rubber nub sticking out from it. The rubber was purple and nearly clear, and I could see there was a device inside. A computer chip? What the hell?
What am I supposed to do with it? I knew I sounded childish and inexperienced, but I had to ask.
You’re to insert it into your pussy, with the nub at the end over your clit.
My pulse picked up speed.
Watch this, he texted. Just then, the device buzzed in my han
d. I almost dropped it on the floor. Did it work? he asked.
Yes! It vibrated.
Good. That’s what it’s supposed to do. I control whether it vibrates, how long and how strongly. Are you starting to get the picture?
I was, and my skin flushed with all sorts of dirty thoughts. It was a vibrator, one he had power over even from a distance.
Yes, sir.
Good. After you bathe, insert it—carefully, of course—and make sure it’s positioned correctly. Confirm when this has been done.
Yes, sir.
I put it aside, staring at it. I was wet at the thought of wearing it, though I had to wonder what it had to do with our meeting. Was he trying to test me, to see how much I could take while in public? It was fun, I couldn’t lie. The thought of him pleasuring me while those around us were oblivious.
I quickly showered and once I dried off, I pulled the box with the vibrator inside from my underwear drawer.
I put one foot on the bed and squatted slightly, then began to insert the rubber head inside my vagina. It wasn’t nearly as big as Preston, but there was still a real feeling of pressure once it was fully inserted.
After checking to make sure the nub was up against my clit, I texted Preston. I’ve inserted the device.
Good, he replied. Then, to my surprise, I felt a buzzing between my legs. I clamped my hands over my mouth to keep from crying out in shock. Then, I gripped my bed to keep from falling to the floor.
Do you like that?
I fumbled a little as I replied. Yes, sir.
Good girl.
Another buzz, stronger than the last, and longer. I moaned softly, touching my bare nipples, feeling them harden under my fingers as the vibrator pleasured me. I imagined Preston at the other end, controlling my pleasure.
When I finally let you come tonight, you won’t believe how strong it is.
It didn’t take long before nine-thirty rolled around. My parents were in bed. I’d changed into a black long-sleeved tee and black jeans. I didn’t have a black knit hat, but I did have one in dark gray which I hoped was good enough. Every so often, I’d feel a little buzz between my legs. Knowing Preston was thinking about me was more than special. It was everything. Just another way I could be connected to him when we weren’t together.
