Nikki's Secret Read online

  Another element that had always swayed Mark to thinking Nikki was real, aside from the content of the posts, was the wish list that had a permanent spot above the posts themselves. Why would the Adult Friend Finder site want guys like him sending them sexy garments and sex toys? It didn’t make sense.

  Forget that, Mark told himself. What doesn’t make sense is this girl emailing you and suggesting you come to her place and fuck her so she could write about it on the new blog she was creating.

  Why go so far when nothing was really going to happen?

  If the email had required him to once again sign up for the Adult Friend Finder site he would have finally concluded she was an employee of it, but this time around the message had been sent to him on the OK Cupid site, which was free. Getting him to sign up served no purpose. In fact, it was this sudden switch, after months of silence from Nikki that had convinced him to give her a second try; convinced him she was real.

  All because you stupidly looked at the blog again after five months, he scolded himself.

  It had occurred two weeks earlier. Facebook had gotten dull, and the basic cable at his parent’s house sucked, so without really thinking about it he started browsing some adult sites and eventually went to the Nikki blog out of curiosity (and because the stories and pictures had the ability to get him off). As expected nothing had been updated, the last post still bearing the April date upon it, but Nikki had made her presence known. It was in the comment section beneath the final post on the site, and was in response to twelve comments that had asked her where she went.

  My email account was hacked!!! Nikki wrote, the comment being a guest comment rather than from her standard blogger profile. I can’t log in to the site anymore! I’m now on OK Cupid! Click my name to see my profile!

  Normally Mark would never have clicked on such a link within a blog, past experiences having taught him that it would either take him to some pyramid building scheme or put some Trojan virus on his laptop. This time, however, while hovering his mouse icon over the name, he saw that it really was a link to the OK Cupid profile and clicked it. After that he set up his own profile and sent her a Remember Me? email and waited. The reply came three hours later.

  He looked at that reply now and followed the thread of their conversations to his last message, which had been sent this morning and told Nikki how excited he was about getting to see her later. Nikki had not replied.

  Don’t even bother, he told himself as his mind contemplated sending a new message. Just leave it alone.

  The advice was probably good, but Mark ignored it and quickly wrote and sent an angry message. A demand to know why she had lied to him was present as well, one that he wasn’t really expecting to get a reply to but sent nonetheless.

  After that he contemplated posting a message on her blog that warned people of what she had just done to him, but in the end was able to hold back. Public shouting matches always made both parties look like idiots, and such a shouting match would probably develop electronically if he posted something.

  15

  Guilt followed Bill up the stairs. Concern was present as well. He had lied about having used the name Nikki to sell certain novels on Amazon, and about the possibility that someone named Nikki had once lived downstairs. His assurance to Kimberly that the Nikki connection had been a coincidence wasn’t a lie, however, and had been the reason he felt it was okay to keep the truth of the situation to himself. There just was no way that his use of the name Nikki could be connected with that young man thinking Kimberly was Nikki. It wasn’t possible, not when he would have been the one setting everything up.

  “I’m not doing anything like that in my sleep, am I buddy?” he asked Toby who was sitting atop his TV room perch.

  Toby didn’t reply.

  Thankfully Bill didn’t need any reassurance that he wasn’t signing online in his sleep because he would need a web connection to do that.

  Unless you’re driving to Panera in your sleep, he said to himself even though he knew such an excursion wasn’t possible. Sleep walking was extremely rare. Hell, just moving in general while sleeping was rare given that the body paralyzed itself while in the dream state so it wouldn’t actually hurt itself in the midst of a dream. Most people didn’t know this, though, which was why movies and TV shows were frequently allowed to get away with scenes where people tossed and turned while suffering a bad dream.

  Just a coincidence, he concluded. An eerie one that no one would believe if you used it in a novel, but a coincidence all the same.

  And the situation with the pictures probably isn’t related at all, he added several seconds later. That’s a whole other issue, and really is the only thing Kimberly should be worried about.

  Satisfaction with his conclusion arrived, and for a moment all was well. He then made the mistake of thinking about Kimberly’s statement about receiving mail addressed to Nikki.

  What kind of mail?

  It was a question he wished he knew the answer too, yet was one he hadn’t asked because it could have led to other questions about why it mattered, which in turn would have forced him to explain everything.

  Had it been a letter or some sort of bill then it wouldn’t mean a thing, but if it had been a risqué garment or sex toy that would mean someone had actually purchased something through the wish list link he had posted on the blog; one that his friend and model had suggested he put up as part of her payment for the continued pictures and videos he occasionally embedded within the posts and used on the Adult Friend Finder profile. The agreement had been easy to make because the two had needed various outfits and toys for the pictures and videos, and since the expense of such things was his responsibility, he preferred to get the stuff free of charge. Being able to then hand the items over to Nicole as a deduction to the agreed upon payments for her modeling services had been perfect. Plus it had been fun to see her wearing the items and using the toys. A lot of fun.

  What a mess, he concluded. You should have deleted the blog once the books started selling.

  If he had done that there would have been no possibility of a connection, which would have been great because then he would have felt better about lying to Kimberly. Such a step had never occurred, though, because he had been proud of the success the site had achieved, and had always wanted to keep it up and running just in case his books stopped selling one day due to the traffic the site still earned and the income potential it still had.

  You need a fallback plan, his family had always insisted and despite his denial of the necessity he had actually created one. He just would never reveal what it was to them.

  Don’t worry about it, he finally said to himself. It’s a coincidence and will blow over. The guy with the flowers now knows Kimberly isn’t Nikki and will move on, and whoever is leaving the pictures will display a motive soon enough if they continue.

  Unfortunately, the concern would not fade and made for a sleepless night, his mind too worked up to allow itself to drift away.

  Even watching some of the videos he and Nicole had made, sound muted so Kimberly wouldn’t hear, didn’t help, though the eventual ejaculation and hot shower did feel good. It wasn’t enough. Back in bed his mind went about speculating on the strange situation as the hours ticked by until he eventually gave up on sleep and watched four episodes of The X-Files back to back, unconsciousness finally arriving during the fourth episode.

  His alarm clock went off an hour later.

  Friday, August 19, 2011

  1

  Dear Horny4you!

  I’m going to play hard to get and will probably act confused when you come to the door. PLEASE DON’T GIVE UP! If I slam the door in your face it is all an act. Come back over again and again. If you have persistence I will give in and suck your dick and let you fuck me in the ass. If not, someone else will eventually do things correctly and I will have sex with them. I hope you make the cut because I’m looking forward to seeing you and that thick hard cock. Nikki. PS: Make sure yo
u only knock on the first floor door or else you’ll get my neighbor who lives upstairs.

  2

  Confusion followed by pain ushered Kimberly into the daylight hours, her body having mistakenly spent the remainder of the night sleeping on the couch rather than her bed. The TV was the reason for this. Unable to stay in the dark silent bedroom she had moved to the couch to be near the TV, her finger not really caring what program she selected just as long as it cushioned her with sound. The National Geographic Channel ended up being her destination, a program on something called String Theory helping guide her mind into a state of sleep.

  A large kitchen knife had also added to her comfort, its blade tucked beneath a cushion so all she had to do was reach down and grab the handle if someone tried to get inside.

  Thankfully it had not been needed.

  But will it later?

  She thought about the pictures that had been taken and Bill’s statement about how whoever had left them probably would not stop with just them, not when it was such a bold move, filled her mind. How far would they take this? Would it reach a point where the knife was truly needed? If so, would it be enough?

  No answers arrived. Instead she simply asked herself why someone would do this. Unfortunately the answer to that question was a mystery as well.

  Nikki.

  The name sat in her head for several seconds, but didn’t really guide her mind anywhere. Bill had said he had used the name for some ‘non-horror’ titles he had sold on Amazon, the connotation being that they were porn novels.

  He also said they don’t exist anymore, her mind quickly added, which; she had to admit, made it seem very unlikely that the two incidents could be connected. Instead she thought about his suggestion that someone named Nikki had lived there before the Roberts and that hearing about her had sparked the use of the name for those books. Such a situation would explain the mail. But would it really explain why someone would suddenly start leaving pictures?

  And if Nikki did something so horrible to make someone leave pictures like that wouldn’t they know enough about her to realize you’re not her?

  This thought made so much sense that it put an end to all the speculation, though not in a way that brought relief because if such a situation went unrealized by whoever was doing this then that meant their ability to rationalize things was lacking.

  A chill slithered through her.

  She pulled the knife from the couch.

  If things got out of control she would help whoever was behind this understand the consequences of their failure to comprehend reality.

  A memory appeared, the thought of stabbing the blade into some one’s flesh sparking it. Blood filled her mind. She then thought about the cat she had loved and that horrible moment of insanity.

  NO!

  She tried to push the thought away, but it resisted. Tears arrived. She couldn’t help them. Reliving the terror she had faced last night when seeing the pictures would be better than visualizing the moment in the bathroom back in Champaign, but the recent memory wouldn’t replace the old familiar one. Chances were nothing short of being killed, or maybe some form of brain injury (electroshock therapy?) would ever rid her of it.

  Maybe not even death? If Hell existed and she went there she could think of nothing more fitting than being forced to relive that awful day over and over again.

  She shivered, and then wiped the tears from her face and forced herself into the kitchen where she set the knife on the counter and contemplated some breakfast.

  In the end she didn’t relish the thought of making anything and decided to head out and see what types of breakfast joints were in the DeKalb area.

  Need to call the landlord at some point too and ask about Nikki, she told herself.

  Ideally she would have taken care of that before heading out, but knew he worked during the day with a temp agency called Manpower, one she had actually submitted info to before getting a job with Steak and Shake, her thinking being that working a temp job would be perfect for a college student. The agency, however, hadn’t thought so, not when she told them school would come first.

  Upstairs she heard footsteps.

  You could ask him about breakfast places, maybe even invite him along?

  In the end she vetoed the idea and headed to her car, a quick detour to the front of the house to check and see if anything had been left on the door.

  All clear.

  Relief arrived, but didn’t last long. More would come. She knew it to be true. Even if Bill hadn’t stressed it last night she would have eventually realized it herself. Whoever was behind this had only just gotten started.

  I won’t let them get the better of me, she insisted.

  Yeah, we’ll see, the cynical part of her mind replied.

  3

  Oh cry yourself to sleep, why don’t you? You weren’t for me. I realized it the moment I answered the door. WTF made you think I’m a flowers type of girl? Did you ever really look at my website? I just want a good hard fucking from the guys I talk to, no strings, no drama. Men should think of themselves as a self operating vibrator when they come to see me, nothing else. If you think you can get this through your head maybe I will let you try again. Swing by tomorrow afternoon to find out. The best you will ever have, if you’re lucky, Nikki.

  Mark stared at the reply on the OK Cupid website, his mind unsure what to think.

  A part of him was actually considering heading back to the house again, the promise of sex difficult to resist despite the doubt that was present.

  She’s teasing you again, he told himself. And you already decided that the girl last night wasn’t her.

  But then how did she know about the flowers?

  She could have been watching!

  Really?

  Mark had to admit that going to all the trouble of getting him to knock on someone else’s door so Nikki could watch him humiliate himself seemed a little over the top. It wasn’t out of the question though. The variety of people populating the planet was so great one would never be able to fully document all the different types of craziness out there. Now that he knew the motive wasn’t so he would continue to subscribe to a dating site that required a membership fee there had to be a different reason for her continued teasing.

  But what could that reason be?

  No answer.

  And what if there is no reason? What if she really did get pissed off by the flowers last night and put on an ‘I have no idea who you are’ act? Do you really want to miss out on another opportunity for sex due to your own ‘over the top’ theory?

  Do you really want to humiliate yourself again with that girl who had no idea who Nikki was? Fuck, she didn’t even look like Nikki.

  But maybe that’s because the pictures were dated. The blog was almost two years old, and since many of the pictures on the profile had been the same ones as the blog they too were probably older.

  Ask her about this, he told himself and see what she says.

  And risk pissing her off to the point where she gives up on you completely?

  The debate went on and on, his mind completely and hopelessly divided.

  4

  Bill stared at the laptop screen for a long time before the words began to flow, but even then the rhythm he was used to didn’t take hold. The sleepless night was to blame. Being creative required quite a bit from the brain, so failing to get any rest one night made it nearly impossible to get going the next day. The twenty-two pages he had completed the day before probably played a part as well. A normal writing period saw him producing ten pages of fresh manuscript. Doubling that had sucked him dry. It was like doing the same type of workout everyday at the gym and then, for no reason, doing a second workout one day when the urge struck. Trying to get back into the routine the next day wouldn’t be easy, not after having fully exhausted oneself.

  In the end he managed four pages of new writing, the total taking him to page three hundred and one. Normally crossing into a new hundred pag
e threshold was cause for some simple celebration. Today, however, it didn’t feel all that spectacular. Nothing ever did when he failed to hit his ten page daily total. Some satisfaction did come his way when he knocked out the rest of the movie review he had been working on the day before. It was funny too because he hadn’t really planned on trying to add anything to it until after lunch -- he didn’t want to break his routine -- but then, after realizing his work on the new novel wasn’t going anywhere, he decided to take a look at what he already had and the rest just came out.

  “What do you think?” he asked Toby who was lying next to the printer. “Knock out another six pages this afternoon?”

  Toby lifted his head, and then, realizing Bill was getting up, got up as well and hurried into the kitchen, a loud meow leaving his lips.

  Bill shook his head and then headed into the kitchen to dump some cat treats on the floor. After that, he added some fresh coffee and cream to his mug and then, unsure what to do, headed into his “library” (front room with bookshelves) and stared at the various authors he had read over the years. Disappointment that printed copies of his novels weren’t sitting on the shelf arrived. He knew being able to make a living from his writing was no small feat, and was proud of the success his Kindle uploads were achieving, but it wasn’t enough. Ever since he had been a kid his dream had been to see his novels on a bookstore shelf, a publisher logo and author blurbs decorating the cover. For years it had been his driving force; his motivation for waking up everyday at five to begin his writing before school or his shift at the different manual labor and fast food jobs he had worked, yet it still hadn’t happened.