Hunted by desire, Bound by love

The sound came first. A wet, steady slap of skin on skin. It filled the quiet inside the SUV. Each thrust pushed her firmly into the cool leather seat. The whole car rocked a little, letting out a soft creak with every movement. Hank was on top of her, his weight solid and familiar. His breath came in hot, fast puffs against her neck. He smelled like cheap deodorant and old sweat. His big, rough hands held her hips in a tight grip. He was strong, and he used all his strength. It was not about love. It was about completion. Jade’s mind was somewhere else. It was up near the roof of the car, watching. Her eyes were open, staring at a smudge on the window. She could feel everything, but she did not feel it the way he did. For her, it was a list of facts. Fact: The dashboard clock read 7:05 PM. Fact: The pine air freshener was too strong. Fact: The seam of her black dress dug into her shoulder blade. Fact: The Hunger, a growing ache inside her all afternoon, was finally starting to fade. Hank moved with a determined rhythm. In. Out. Deep. Hard. There was a brutal efficiency to it. “Yeah,” he muttered. “You like that?” He wasn’t really asking her. He was talking to himself. He was performing. He wanted to be her favorite. He didn’t understand that she didn’t have favorites. She had a schedule. He was a reliable part of it. His effort was nice, but it wasn’t necessary. All that was necessary was that he didn’t stop. Jade looked out the windshield. The parking lot behind the big box gym was almost empty. One streetlight buzzed, its orange glow making long shadows. A shopping cart was stranded near a dumpster. She focused on the cart. She counted the thrusts by the rhythm of the car’s creak. Creak. Seventeen. Creak. Eighteen. Inside her, something was switching off. The Hunger was not an emotion. It was a physical need, like thirst. A tight, hot coil in her stomach screaming to be released. This act, this mechanical coupling, was the only thing that loosened it. Each movement drained the tension away. It was not pleasure. It was relief. Hank’s pace changed. His breathing got ragged. His thrusts became faster, more desperate. “I’m gonna… I’m gonna…” he choked out. She didn’t answer. She just waited. This was the final part. With a sharp cry, he shoved into her one last time and held there. His whole body locked up, trembling. She felt the hot rush of his finish inside her. It was the signal. The click of the lock. The terrible ache of The Hunger vanished. Just like that. A switch flipped from ON to OFF. A cool, hollow calm spread through her veins. He collapsed on top of her, heavy and slick with sweat. Finally, he let out a long breath and pulled out. The air felt cold where he had been. He patted her hip, twice. A habit. Good job. “Okay,” he said, his voice rough. “Wow. Okay.” Jade sat up slowly. Her body felt used. Empty. Clean. She straightened her dress and looked at the clock. 7:11 PM. Eight minutes. She reached for her purse. “So,” Hank said, pulling his jeans up. He sounded hopeful. “That was good, right? Better than last time?” He was fishing. He wanted a good review. “It was satisfactory,” Jade said. Her voice was flat. A report. “Your consistency is valued.” He blinked, a little disappointed by the cold word. Satisfactory. But he nodded. A deal was a deal. “Next month? Same time?” Maybe I could get a room somewhere. We could take our time.” “This location is discreet and efficient,” she said, opening the car door. The dome light came on, harsh and yellow. Cool night air rushed in, washing away the smell of s*x. “I will send a confirmation text.” She didn’t wait for his reply. She stood up. Her legs were steady. The world was solid. The Hunger was quiet. For now. “Take care of yourself,” Hank called. She shut the door. The sound was final. She turned and walked across the cracked asphalt. Her low heels clicked softly. She listened to his engine start, the crunch of his tires on gravel as he drove away. Silence. Jade stopped under the buzzing streetlight and took a deep breath. The air was cool in her lungs. One down. Two to go. Roger at 10:30. Jose at 1:00 AM. It was a long night, but it was planned. The machine was running. She walked to her own car, a plain silver sedan. She got in. The interior was clean and smelled of nothing. She started the engine but didn’t drive yet. First, the log. She took her simple phone and opened the notes app. The file was called “Gym Schedule.” Her thumbs tapped on the screen. Log: Day 1, Cycle 27. Encounter 1: Hank. Time: 7:11 PM. Location: His vehicle. Duration: 8 minutes. Observations: Reliable. Performed consistently. Physiological relief achieved. Efficiency: Satisfactory. She saved the note. She looked in the rearview mirror. Her face was pale. Her hair was still in its tight bun. Her lipstick was not smudged. She looked calm. Normal. Like a woman who had just finished a late gym session, not a feeding. This was her life. For ten days every month, her life became this. A series of clinical appointments to satisfy a curse she never asked for. She called it The Hunger. It woke up inside her like a sleeping animal, and it demanded to be fed. Three times a day. Every day. For ten days. If she did not feed it, the pain began. A deep, bone-deep ache that grew until it was all she could think about. She had learned the hard way not to let it get that far. So she built The System. The System was about control. It was about managing the wild thing inside her with cold, clean logic. When the headache came earlier that day, she began her preparation. Her apartment was not a home. It was a storage unit. White walls. A bed with gray sheets. Nothing that could hold a memory or a feeling. She took a shower as hot as she could stand. She scrubbed with plain, scentless soap. She was cleaning a tool, not a body. After, she put on lotion with no scent. She did not wear perfume. Scents were memories. Memories were dangerous. Then, the clothes. Simple, black underwear. A plain black dress that zipped up the back. It was not meant to be sexy. It was meant to be removed quickly. It was a uniform. Then, she reviewed the roster on her tablet. Hank, Roger, Jose. Three men, carefully chosen over two years. They were not lovers. They were contractors. They provided a service. In return, she provided discretion and punctuality. It was a business exchange. They didn’t know about The Hunger. They just thought she was a busy, lonely woman with simple needs. It was a good system. It kept her alive. It kept her safe. It kept her from feeling. Now, the first part of the night was done. She had two hours before Roger. She should go home. Rest. Prepare. But a tight knot was forming in her stomach. It was silly. The System was working. She picked up her phone for a check-in. She opened the messaging app she used only for this. Three conversations: H, R, J. She tapped R for Roger. Her last message read: Confirmation for 10:30 PM. The Luxe, room 411. Usual terms. He had replied: See you then. She started to type: On schedule for tonight? But before she could send it, a new message from Roger popped up. Her blood went cold. The message was short. Roger: Can’t do tonight. Family thing came up. Sorry. Jade stared at the words. Can’t do tonight. Roger never canceled. He had no family in the city. Family thing was a lie. The knot in her stomach pulled tight. She looked at the time. 7:23 PM. The Hunger would wake again around 9:30. She had just over two hours to find a replacement. A stranger. Finding a stranger was risky. It meant danger. Variables. Someone who wasn’t vetted. But she had to do it. The System demanded it. Her hands felt cold. She took a deep breath, but it shook. Recalculate. Adapt. She had backups. Men she had met once. Liam. He was eager. She found Liam’s number and pressed call. It rang. Then, a recorded voice. “The number you have dialed is no longer in service.” A trickle of fear dripped down her spine. She tried another backup, Marcus. The call went straight to a full voicemail. The fear flooded her chest, cold and heavy. Something was wrong. Her phone buzzed in her hand, making her jump. A new message. It was from Jose. Her heart hammered. Jose wasn’t supposed to message until after 1:00 AM. She opened it. Jose: Hola Jade. Something amazing! A gallery bought my whole new series. I am leaving tonight for an artist retreat for two months! Sorry about tonight. We will celebrate when I return! The words blurred. Leaving tonight. Two months. Jose. Gone. Hank was done. Roger canceled. Jose gone. All three. On the first night. The System wasn’t just broken. It was gone. The truth crashed down. The Hunger would return in two hours. And she had no one. She needed three strangers today. She was alone in the dark, and the animal inside her was going to wake up screaming. Her hands trembled so badly she dropped the phone. It clattered at her feet. For the first time in years, Jade felt true, raw panic. A wild, screaming thing in her head. It drowned out all the cool, clinical logic. She was hungry. And she had nothing to eat. The hunter was suddenly prey.