Static by Darien Cox

Author:Darien Cox [Cox, Darien]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dusk Notes
Published: 2017-10-14T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Five

When I arrived home from the club, a white cat with orange spots sat on my front porch. Keys in hand, I stared down at it, and it stared up at me. “Go away.” The cat’s eyes looked me over, like it was assessing my appearance, then its yellow eyes met mine again. “Go. Away. Cat.”

The cat turned, tail in the air, and darted off behind the house.

Shaking my head, I unlocked my door and stepped inside, flicking on the lights. My laptop sat on the desk, open but dark and silent. The first thing I did was peel out of my costume and go take a shower. The residue in my pubic hair assured me I hadn’t imagined tonight’s hand-job in the alley, and I felt slightly nauseous as I scrubbed myself clean.

After changing into my comfy sweats, I went into the living room and sat down at my desk, booting up the computer, then simply staring at the screen. “Are you there?”

No response. Was I crazy? Was I genuinely cracking up? I wanted to speak to the voice. I wanted answers.

I logged into Netflix and put on my detective show, hoping this might trigger a response. For twenty minutes I waited for the buzzing. For the screen to freeze up. But it didn’t happen. I left Netflix and found some porn. As the video played, I waited. I went so far as to peel the masking tape off of the webcam and stare right into it. “Are you there? I need to talk to you! Damn it.”

Great. I was getting cyber-snubbed by my stalker. How low can you go?

Giving up on the porn, I closed out of the video. Rubbing my chin, I replayed the night’s events. Miko. The hacker told me several times that he didn’t have a name. Yet.

Doing a google search, I looked for the name Miko. Clicked on one of those name-origins pages.

‘The name Miko is Slavic. Miko is a form of Michael: Who is like God?’

I chuckled softly. “Who is like God? I have no idea, but I think he just jerked me off in a dirty alley.”

I screwed around online for another half hour, stalling, waiting to see if anything unusual happened. Nothing did.

Finally, I went to bed, grateful for my exhaustion. I didn’t think I’d be able to sleep, but I went down hard, and didn’t stir until my alarm went off in the morning.

After dressing for work, I made another attempt, booting up my computer and trying to lure the hacker out of hiding. After twenty minutes of nothing, I gave up and left the house.

One good thing about last night’s activities, they had my brain so preoccupied I forgot all about my dinner later on with Tim until I was pulling into the parking lot at work.

Shit.

Dinner with Tim Greenfield. Tonight. Damn, seeing him dressed in that football costume nearly did me in last night. But Tim wasn’t just hot. He was sweet too. I liked him so much, had liked him for so long.

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