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Sext(33)

By:Penny Wylder


"Of course." He squeezes my hand as I leave, and I cast a grin over my  shoulder at him before I jog up the path toward the bathrooms.

Inside, it's dingy and dark, away from the path and streetlamps. There's  a single bare bulb dangling from the ceiling but it's burned out and I  have to squint to see myself in the mirror as I splash cold water onto  my cheeks.

That's when I hear the door swing shut behind me.

Another woman steps inside. For a moment, I don't recognize her, the way  she's holding her head-face down, eyes averted, hair falling across her  forehead. She's cute, shorter than me, with a pixie cut and dark eyes.  Then she catches my eye in the mirror, and I smile in recognition.

"Hannah, hey, how's it going?"

I only get a scowl in response, which makes my stomach tighten. Crap,  did I get her name wrong? She works in my office, but she's pretty new  and she's always so quiet. I think back to the last time I saw her, on  the day the email with my photo circulated around the building. She'd  been glaring at me something awful that day, but then again, who hadn't?

"Sorry," I say, when she doesn't respond. "It is Hannah, right?"

She crosses her arms and stands in the doorway, weight on one hip. "So  you remember one thing about someone besides yourself. Congratulations."

I blink in confusion. "Um … " What the hell did I ever do to her? "Well, it was nice seeing you." I move toward the door.

She sidesteps to block me. "Great to see you too. Really funny, running into you here of all places."

"What do you-"

"Here in Central Park. Here where he took me to break up with me on the  anniversary of our first date. Did he tell you about that?"

My stomach sinks even farther now, knotting in sudden realization. Oh my god.

No wonder she knew where to find me. No wonder she was able to circulate  my image to everyone at work and use our own company servers to do it.  "I don't know what you're talking about," I lie, even as I try to ease  past her again.

She steps in front of me once more and uncrosses her arms now. When I  try to walk around her, she reaches out and shoves me, hard, in the  shoulders.

"What the hell are you doing?" I ask, my voice going loud. Why didn't Zayne tell me, why didn't he tell me her name?

"I know all about you, Clove Walker. I know what kind of whore you are.  Marketing manager at your big fancy publisher, just another boring New  York transplant, another country-bred slut who came to the big city to  chase other women's men."

Fire flares in my veins. "You don't know anything about me."

"I know what our boss thinks about your performance on that camera." She smirks.

"That photo wasn't for anyone else to see. That was private. All of this  is private-you need to leave Zayne alone. Let him live his life."

She rolls her eyes and laughs, a harsh, echoing sound. "Oh sure. Easy  for you to say. Now that you've brainwashed the poor guy into saying  whatever you want him to think. I know you sent him to speak to me, to  try and mediate. You think that will work? He'll see through your  bullshit eventually."

"Hannah, that's not what's happening here."

"You stole my boyfriend."

"You weren't together anymore."

"Only because he's confused. He doesn't realize what he needs. He  doesn't realize that I'll give him more than any woman could. He needs  me. You? You're just the fuck of the minute. He's had a million sluts  like you in his bed. He'll get bored of you before the week is up."

"Hannah, let me leave."

Instead, she squares off in front of the door and spreads her arms wide.  "Well I've had enough," she's saying. "I'm not letting you fuck with  him any longer."

"You're the one who's fucking with him," I counter, my voice rising. "You won't leave him alone. That's not normal, Hannah."         

     



 

"Of course it's not normal. He and I were never boring, normal. We were  better than that. We are better than that. As soon as sluts like you  stop distracting him, he'll see that. He'll realize he's meant to be  with me."

"You have to stop this. Let go of him."

"Make me," she snarls. Then, without warning, she launches across the  room at me. I manage to catch her wrists in mine, but her momentum sends  us both flying backwards. My back cracks against the tile wall and I  groan. She takes advantage of the moment to pry one hand free and slaps  me across the cheek. I shove her off me and bring up an arm to block her  next strike which lands against my forearm. It stings, but not as much  as my cheek, which burns where she hit it.

"Hannah, stop."

"Fucking slut. I'll ruin you. I'll make you regret the day you laid eyes on him."

She lunges at me again, and this time, I'm ready for it. I catch her  shoulders with both hands and shove her sideways into the sink. She  roars with rage as she crashes against it, and pushes off the sink to  grab my hair. I ignore that and punch her straight in the nose, the way  my dad always taught me. The way I've never had to do before.

But it works. Her eyes start to water, and she shrieks, letting go of my hair.

"Hannah, please-"

"You bitch!" She hits me with both arms now, and I don't see the other  hit coming, don't have time to block before she's shoving me against the  wall again, hitting my chest hard enough to make me gasp for air.

Dimly, at the back of my mind, I'm aware of the door swinging open,  someone else barging in. I hear shouting, voices. I'm too focused on  catching my breath, forcing air through my aching throat into my lungs  once more.

When I come to focus again, someone has pulled Hannah off of me and is holding her by both arms.

Zayne.

I gape at him, watch him pinning her o the wall as she struggles against  his grip. At the same time, someone else, a young woman, pushes through  the door and sees the three of us, Hannah kicking at Zayne as he  struggles to stop her fighting.

"I'll call the police," the woman gasps, disappearing once more. Hannah,  for her part, only takes that as a renewed reason to fight. She swings  at me with a leg, trying to kick for my arm, but I back out of the way  before the kick lands.

"Hannah, please, just stop," Zayne says, his voice low with anger.

"This slut is corrupting you. Brainwashing you. Don't you see?"

"All I see is you attacking my girlfriend," he spits back.

A little thrill sparks in my stomach, even in spite of the circumstances, at hearing him say that. Girlfriend.

"She doesn't deserve you. She won't care about you the way I do. She  won't give up everything, sacrifice the world for you. Don't you see?"  Hannah twists in his arms to meet his eye, her face a mask of  desperation. "Zayne, this is real. Me and you."

"No, Hannah. This was never real." His face, on the other hand, is torn between fury and pity.

"How can you say that? I've been here every minute. Watching you,  waiting for you. I helped you get rid of those ugly sluts on that dating  app-"

"Hacking into my phone without my permission and harassing women I like isn't helping me."

"They weren't good enough for you. Nobody is. Nobody but me because I  love you." She twists in his arms until she's facing him, and I can see  even from here what effort it takes him not to cringe away. "This is  real love, Zayne."

"No. It's not." He releases her, carefully though, hands still poised to  catch her again if she lunges for me once more. But as he lets go of  her, his gaze drifts to me, his eyes dark and serious. "Love is not  toxic or controlling. It's not spying on people and hurting innocent  bystanders in the process." He locks eyes with me. "I know what real  love is now."

My mouth falls open as I look at him, a flurry of sparks setting off in my belly. Does he mean … ?

Just then, the door bursts open once more. Zayne steps away from Hannah  as the woman who poked her head in before returns, now with a couple of  police officers in tow.

"What's going on here?" the cop asks.

I open my mouth to explain, but I don't need to because Hannah chooses that moment to lose it again.

She's been shooting me death rays ever since Zayne looked my way. Even  more since he said those words. Words that haven't stopped echoing in my  head since he said them. I know what real love is now.

"You whore!" Hannah flings herself at me again, and I raise my hands over my face defensively.         

     



 

The officers catch her before we collide again. It takes both of them to  wrestle her into handcuffs, and only when they've finally subdued her  do they ask us what happened. Zayne takes over, explaining about how  Hannah has been following him, hacking into his phone. At that point, I  interrupt to explain that my company, which Hannah also works for, is  pursuing a lawsuit against her for hacking their equipment. Zayne  catches my eye at that, startled. Hannah, for her part, just continues  to yell from the corner, calling me a slut and a man-stealing whore  until the other cop finally frog-marches her outside to sit down while  we finish explaining the situation to his partner.