Call Me (27 page)

“I don’t want you to ‘like’ it. You’ll fucking hate it, and I’ll love the fact that you hate it. That’s what sluts like you are good for, cocksucking. If I were there with you right now…in fact, I might just come down and find you, for being such a mouthy fucking whore. Oh yeah, darlin’, I know where you work. I could easily come and get you. Anytime I want.”

My hands begin to tremble with that admission. Whether it’s true or not, it’s never crossed my mind that it could be a possibility. I mean, I’m sure the Conrads have disgruntled past employees and other weirdo callers. I bet this is why they need that secured entrance.
Oh God. It’s just me and Destiny and maybe two others here.
I’m trembling by the time his words begin to register again.

“Are you listening to me? Tell me you’re ready, whore.”

Shaking it off, I answer: “I’m here. I’m on my knees. Ready.” I whisper. Hoping I can appease him and move this along. “I’ve got your cock in my hands,” I try, hoping it’s the right thing to say.

“No. Fuck you. This is my show. Now I want you to sit and listen to me. I’m pissed you’ve ruined this for me. I should come find you, bitch. Wait for you in the shadows when you leave the building.”

My heart begins to thump wildly in my chest.
Ellie, he’s bluffing, it’s all just part of his fantasy, right? Just tune him out, do what he says
.

“I’ll grab you. Wrap my hands around your stupid fucking neck, rob you of your breath. I’ll take you when you aren’t expecting it. Once you’ve walked far enough away, thinking you’re safe. I’ll grab you and push up against a brick wall, ’cause worthless sluts like you deserve it rough.”

I gasp audibly, and it only spurs him on. I can’t seem to stop listening, my body is frozen. I can’t convince my hands to click the off button.

“You like that, bitch? The idea of me taking you? Knew you were a whoring cunt. Next, I’ll fuck you in that nasty-as-fuck hole of yours. Stretching those butt cheeks, while I switch from ass to dirty cunt! Your asshole taking me over and over, in and out. When I’m good and fucking ready, I’ll pull out, only to slip it back into your filthy mouth. You’ll swallow my cum, taking my seed down that stupid whoring mouth of yours while I fuck your throat. Then, I’ll grab my blade an—”

“Nooooooo!” I yell, finally breaking free from my frozen state and disconnecting the call. I’m shaking. Tears stream down my face and I can’t catch my breath. I’m a mess. A complete wreck, not just from his words but more because, deep down in my gut, I know that he’s some creep who actually gets off on that violence shit. I’m mad at myself for not ending the call sooner, for freezing up—that, and allowing him to make me feel this way. For letting him degrade me like that. I’m suddenly angry at my fucking knee, at Dr. Robinson, at school. I’m angry for having to work in this kind of environment because of my need for money.
Fuck the money.

Without thinking, I leave everything as is and exit the room in search of Destiny. I need to debrief and compose myself. I text her and she said to walk into Sweet 16, her door would be unlocked. But as I make my way along the hall, I find myself face-to-face with Greta.

“Oh goodness, Ellie, dear! What’s the matter?” she says, walking me to the couch near her desk where she sits us both down.

“A bad call,” I hiccup. “I didn’t know y—you were here,” I barely get out.

“Yes, I’m here. I decided to work the night shift. I need a day off next week so I figured I’d come in tonight and get stuff done. Is this your first bad one?” she asks, and I nod, taking the Kleenex she’s offering.

“He was so mad, said he’d come and get me. Said he wanted to
hurt
me,” I say, wiping away the tears that refuse to stop falling. “I can’t believe I let him talk to me like that, let him say all these terrible things. I’m a
person
, Greta. I don’t need to let anyone talk to me like that,” I huff angrily.

“You’re right. You don’t. No call is worth you getting upset about like this. You hang up. Know it’s the right thing. You hang up and flag it for Mrs. Conrad, and she’ll look into him.”

“No-one should have to deal with that. I’ll make sure I go back and flag him.”

“Good. And you’re right, Ellie. When the job starts taking more from you then you’re getting from it, its time to reevaluate what’s important. You have to remember to keep Chanel separate from Ellie, though, too. That caller was using your character, not the real you. He’s probably some lonely man with a distorted sense of reality, one who’s hopeless and is counting on having made you feel scared. Let Chanel take that on and laugh at it, and allow Ellie to simply let it go when you log off. Walk out of here knowing Ellie is safe.”

“I try. I do, but it’s getting too hard. I don’t think I can keep doing this job. I’m keeping secrets from people, my mom, my boyfr—. Never mind, I’m good. I just needed a minute away. Sorry, I’m having a bad night.”

“We all have them. They all have them.” Greta gestures to the hall. “I’ve sat here with almost every one of you girls, listening to the same thing. You’re going to be all right, Ellie.”

“Thanks, Greta. I know. Like I said, I’m mad at myself for letting him get to me. Never again, next time I’m hanging up right away. Regardless. I won’t ever let a caller make me feel like that again. They can fire me…well, if I don’t quit first.” I nod, agreeing with my own words.

“We love you here, Ellie. Trust your gut, always, and know they won’t fire you for not finishing a call like that. They care about you girls; they know they need to keep you all happy and safe. This isn’t like those other places,” she waves and I think about the two young women Ace had told me about.
God, I can’t imagine what they must deal with.

I wish I could talk to Ace right now; I wish I could tell him everything. I will, one day. I’m just not ready to see the look of disappointment that’s sure to cross his face at my disclosure. I told him I worked at call a centre; I just left out the phone sex part.
I hope he understands.

Then it hits me:
what if we’ve talked on the phone before?
I use a voice adapter. Who’s to say he hasn’t? I know he told me he’s called a few lines for research.
Holy shit. Imagine? Oh my God, what if he was that guy tonight?

“You going to be okay, dear? You suddenly went all pale…” Greta asks, bringing me out of what-if land.

“Yeah, I will be. Thanks, Greta. But I think I’m going to clock out early tonight.”

“I think that’s a great idea.” She smiles warmly, patting my leg.

I take a taxi home.

Ace

S
itting in the
cafeteria, I can’t keep a smile from crossing my lips when I stare at my phone, reading this morning’s text exchange between Ellie and me. Reading it over a few more times, I’m extremely confident that I’m about to do the right thing.

Ellie:
what are you doing?

Me:
the usual.

Ellie:
oh yeah? What’s that involve?

Me:
thinking about you

Wanting you

Wishing we were together

You know, the usual…

Ellie:
sweet talker
♥

Me:
I speak the truth

Ellie:
I’m gonna kiss you so hard.

Me:
can’t wait.

Ellie:
see you soon, Doctor

Me:
E!!!!!!!

Ellie:
LOL, it’s just so fun!

Me:
har, har. See you soon.

Ellie:
can’t wait xo

“Sam. Thanks for meeting me,” I say, as my teaching assistant takes the seat across from me.

“No problem, Ace. I’ve got class in the next building in half an hour, so it’s no trouble.”

“How are you? How are your classes going?” I ask the man I’m hoping will be willing to assist me this late in the term.

“Good, pretty light right now. I ended up not needing to take The Origins of Animation, so I’ve got a lighter course load than I’d expected.”

“That’s a nice surprise, I’m sure.”

“Yup. I was able to get tuition fees back, too, so that was a huge bonus.”

“Listen, Sam. I won’t keep you too long. I asked you here because I need a favour.”

“Sure, what can I do for you? I mean, I probably owe you a few.”

“I need help with a student. Do you know Ellie Hughes?”

“Yeah, I do. I’d help her with anything, if you know what I mean. She’s hotter than hell,” he says, winking smarmily, and the urge to lay this shithead out instantly consumes me. But I’m a professional scholar, not an MMA star.

“Not appropriate, Sam.”

“Right, sorry, sir. Sure. I can help out, no problem. Tell me what you need,” he says honestly.

“Well…” I pause. “I need you to mark her thesis and go over her other papers. I need you to see if you agree with my grade assessments.”

“I can do that. Why, though? I mean you’re the profess—oh shit. I get it. You’ve got the hots for her!” He claps his hands together. “You dirty dog. Well done, man. I’d let her have all A’s.” At this point, I realize this was a fatal mistake.

“Sam. You shut your mouth. You have no idea what you’re talking about. There is nothing going on between Ms. Hughes and I. I’ve had some things come up and was trying to lighten my load.”

“I bet you have,” he interjects. I shake my head, trying to pretend that I misheard even though I know he said it.
Idiot.

“You know what, punk? Consider this your final warning. You’re off my team. Enjoy an even lighter load,” I grit out.

Leaving Sam, I make my way to talk to the last person I wanted to, but the first person I should have.

Ellie

R
eading the email
from Ace—saying that students who had previously been working with Sam as their thesis advisor needed to attend a mandatory meeting with Ace on Wednesday in the library’s second floor conference room—has my curiosity piqued.

I hope everything’s okay with Sam, he seems like a great guy. But by now, I’m getting a bit frustrated with Ace. I’ve texted him three times to check in and make sure that everything is all right and to offer my help if he needed it, but have yet to hear back from him.

Assuming he’s dealing with something, I decide to take my irritation to the gym for a late night work out. My knee has been locking up on me a lot more often since I’ve been slacking at the gym. I’m coming to terms with the fact that I might not run competitively again. My new immediate goal is to learn to live with the pain, using the pain management routine Doctor Robinson and his team created for me.

Since I’ve not been competing this year, I actually feel somewhat better; I sleep better, my body isn’t always sore, I can eat whatever I want and I love having all the extra time for myself. I didn’t realize how much running took up my life. I’m happy to say that jogging for leisure now sounds like a pretty good goal to aim for down the road.

Entering the gym, I wasn’t too surprised to hear a couple of machines going as I made my way to the change room. There are usually a few people here at this time, although normally by eleven I have the place to myself.

Whom I didn’t expect to see when I walked out of the change room were Ace and Mercer, running on treadmills. My steps almost faltered when I walked out, catching Ace’s eye and an accompanying lurking grin trained on me. I could almost feel his eyes blatantly
boinking
me from my toes up to my nose. Wanting to ward off the awkward feeling I was having with both men staring and smiling at me, I offer a small wave then bee-line it to the back of the gym and out of sight. Where exactly I was going, I had no clue. But if Mercer’s subtle, knowing grin told me anything, it’s that he knows something’s up between me and his friend.

Finding a rowing machine in the back corner, I hop on, relieved when I can’t see them anymore, giving me a bit a reprieve before I have to loop back into the main area to work on the strength-training machines.
Back to Ace’s heady stare.

Sooner than I’d like, I’m finished rowing, so I slink back into the main gym, feigning nonchalance. You know in tennis where you’re moving your head left-to-right—then right-to-left, over and over again—to make sure you don’t miss anything? Well, right about now, I feel as if I’m watching a three-way tennis match. One where Ace watches me, then I watch him before quickly diverting my gaze to Mercer, whom I catch watching Ace, then me, the whole time trying to hide a Cheshire Cat smile.
He totally knows!

It’s almost midnight now, and I have yet to utter more than simple “hey” to Ace or Mercer, despite the game of tennis we’ve been playing since I rounded back to the weight and cardio part of the gym, where I hopped on the elliptical while they did the training circuit. And the only reason they got that “hey” from me was because of Ace calling out my name, saying “Hey, Ellie,” when I reappeared.

Finally, after nearly twenty minutes of working out on the elliptical I hear Mercer’s voice. “Be sure to hit the lights before you lock up, eh?” The double scrutiny was killing me, and I’m thankful he’s leaving.

“You got it, boss. We won’t be too much longer,” Ace says, looking for my agreement.

“Yeah, I’m almost done too,” I acknowledge.

“Right. ’Night, guys.” He waves, a curious expression on his face as he looks between us one last time.

“’Night, Doctor Reynolds.”

“Mercer, Ellie. Call me Mercer, please.”

“I can do that.” I smile. “Good night, Mercer. Thanks for letting me finish up.”

“Not a problem. You’re in good hands with Ace here.” He clears his throat and closes the door behind him.

I’m mid-stride on the elliptical when I hear Ace’s commanding tone.

“Come here, Ellie.”

Immediately, my head jolts up to find him. My heart rate might have jolted a bit at the tone of his voice. And I might have gotten that Jell-O-leg feeling, too. Just maybe.