The Story So Far > Chapter 37

Download the story so far by downloading here!

Chapter 37 - Daisy - The Coyote

I slam my fists onto the hotel desk, making the entire thing groan. Not a fucking thing. Not one iota of information. HeartBeatz22 uses literally every single trick in the book - and some out of it- to stay hidden. He’s far more high tech than me, and although I know I’m not the best at hacking- the sheer lack of information on someone splattered all over the internet is absolutely insane. 

Video posts: masked. Audio recordings: cloaked. Comments and questions: ip rerouted. This man is an absolute enigma and I come up at a loss every single time. 

He doesn’t though. The taunting messages continue on my laptop, even after my road trip. Texts messages and creepy, breathy phone calls return, even when I got myself a new burner. 

“Let me help you, Heartbreaker.” 

“Why don’t you want me, Heartbreaker.” 

“We could clean up the world together, Heartbreaker.” 

My only saving grace is that he’s stopped talking about Cole after our initial conversation. I would have been out of my mind if the threats had continued. 

So, I can’t go back. 

Not until I have… something to get the annoying little groupie away from him. 

I stand, frustrated at yet another fruitless hunt and throw myself onto the bouncy bed with a grunt as a stab of pain shoots through me from my still not healed bruise. 

Rolling onto my back, I feel the rigid swelling under my breast with a wince. “Dammit.”

Two weeks. How am I supposed to take out a literal major general with one strong side? Fucking breathing hurts. I ran out of dog pills days ago. 

One day, one day soon Cole will be here to take care of me. He’d take care of me, get me ice, stroke my hair.  Maybe he’d even call me ‘good girl’ again. Fuck, I liked that. 

My hand on my rib cage sneaks lower, I close my eyes and pretend it’s Cole. I know he’s more dominant in bed than I originally thought. He’s all over the control angle. Maybe he’d pin me down while he touched me? Maybe he’d spank me when I didn’t follow instructions. Maybe…

I tuck my fingers under the waistband of my pajamas and slip my fingers between my lips, stroking myself with my own wetness. 

Cole would whisper in my ear, the heat of his words sending shivers down my spine. He’d use his weight to keep me still and pepper kisses up and down my neck. He’d circle my clit this way and that and watch my reactions with the same intensity he shows to his cases. He’d learn without me asking, increasing and decreasing pressure, swirling and flicking until my body tenses, writhing underneath him, begging for release. 

I tense and shudder. My breath releases in a pitiful excuse for an orgasm if ever I saw one. 

It’s been like that since I met him. Like having the biggest build up to a sneeze and then being unable to actually go through with it, so it just sits there in reserve in your sinuses. 

I’ve been pretty much edging myself for months. 

When Cole finally touches me I’m going to fucking detonate. 

The hollow of the hotel room swims above me, swallowing me in my loneliness. 

***

Sometime later, the alert from my phone tells me that Hayes has entered the area and, washing my hands, I move to the window just in time to see him cackling away with his cronies next to the golf carts. 

Like clockwork. Every day. I had wondered if it was something like a drug deal or something fun behind his anal attention to time. But no. He’s just a rigid prick. But it does make stalking him easy. 

As predicted, it takes him two hours to get to the 9th Hole - the ever-so imaginatively named half way point bar round the course. 

And, of (golf-)course, he meets a young brunette (I’m on the run, can’t be too careful) player practicing her swing pathetically. 

When he disappointingly doesn’t come over right away I give a little pout and a flounce of frustration. 

Come on, Hayes. You know you wanna teach a little girl something. 

True to pervy-form he enters my personal space before he speaks, making me jump. 

“You need to put your hips into it.” 

I look up at him widening my eyes like lollipops. There he is, the hooked nose, no chin creep looking down at me hungrily. Ew. 

“I- I’m sorry?” I say all sweetness and light. 

“Your hips, they should lead your swing. Rotate back, and lead the down swing. May I?” 

He strides confidently behind me, revealing his cronies behind him. One stares at me hungrily while the other looks a little disgusted at Hayes’ antics. To my surprise, Hayes doesn’t grab my hips without permission but waits for me to say, “Oh, sure. Please.” 

His hands find my hips and revulsion spreads through me like nausea. Instead of thwacking him on the head with the driver like I would prefer, I let him manhandle my hips in circles. 

“Just… like that,” he whispers in my ear, a slight groaning tinge to his voice that makes my skin crawl. After a while, he steps back. “Alright now try.” 

I try again and watch the ball soar in an arch through the air. Damn. That actually worked. 

“Oh my god! It worked!” I bounce on the balls of my feet and throw my arms around his neck, “Thank you!”

Pulling back, it’s obvious he’s all worked up from all the touch and I want to throw up all over his Allen Edmonds. 

“Anything for a pretty girl. But now don’t you go giving away my secrets to your boyfriend.” He says like he was talking to an eight year old and pokes me on the nose. I giggle sycophantically. 

“I don’t have a boyfriend, Mr…” I look up at him batting my lashes like a cartoon pin-up girl. 

“Hayes. But call me Geoff.” 

I let my bashful smile spread over my face. “Geoff. I’m Daisy Maddox.” Well, I will be soon enough. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Daisy. Would you like to join us for a drink?” 

“Oh,” I say breathily, looking over at the other men. “I’d love to but I really better get home. But… mmm…” I toy with the handle of the club in my hand bashfully. 

“Yes, Daisy?” He growls. 

I look up at him through my lashes. “Perhaps I could get your number, in case I need any more golf tips?” 

His grin takes over his face, looking like a cartoon smiley without a chin. “Absolutely.” He pulls out his phone and hands it to me unlocked. “Any golf tips. Anything at all really.” 

I giggle and take his phone, unlocking mine under the guise of finding my number. Without any fuss, I use a data transfer app that pulls everything I need and I type in my number narrating the whole time. 

I hand back the phone and wave goodbye with my fingertips and skip away. Literally skip which might be pushing it but I turn before I leave and catch him looking at me the way the coyote looks at the roadrunner.

Little does this coyote know he’s hunting a wolf.