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50 Shades of Blue and Gray: Part 5

By the

October 11, 2012

Tony was always walking past me. Chance encounters, brief glances, sly smiles. He was handsome, with his black hair and a crooked smile. He was 6’1” and broad-shouldered and mysterious and perfect. I hated him. I hated myself for being attracted to him.
So when I heard of a party at his friend Ryan’s house, I had to go. He found me, and when we finally kissed it sent a thrill of passion and accomplishment.
Once we got into his Village B, it all happened a little too fast. In two minutes he had my dress off. I straddled him, unbuttoned his shirt, and he threw it to the side. Crash. The lamp had fallen and landed next to the body of Tony’s roommate. Shit.
My surprise was genuine in finding Brett’s dead body in the room. As we looked around, you could tell it was a job done in haste. Tony was in shock. I slipped out to the living room to check my phone. I had a new message: “More time.” I knew what I had to do. Walking back into the room in only my bra and thong, a tear rolled down my cheek. Tony wrapped his muscular arms around me. I had him.
I unzipped his jeans and we stumbled over to the couch. Our kiss deepened as our bodies came together. “Yes. Right there,” I murmured. I couldn’t help myself– he was good. I felt every inch of his thrusts and could feel myself losing control. “Oh, Tony.” Going faster, his throat let out a deep guttural sound as my nails dug into his back, and it put me over the edge. Fireworks went off in my head and all over my body.
We lay on the couch as our heartbeats slowed. He looked angry, sad, guilty, and confused. I studied his face as he talked about calling the police. The police! I suddenly remembered what happened earlier in the night, and what could go wrong.
“Okay, I need to talk to Mike,” Tony told me.
“Where is he?” I asked, trying my best to control my expression.
“Henle 20.”
Perfect. “Okay, I live in Henle, too.”
Once outside, I couldn’t dial my phone fast enough. “Henle 20,” I said and I heard the other side answer, “My pleasure.” I ran back to my apartment and put on a sweatshirt. “Get a hold of yourself, Corinne,” I thought. “Stop being weak. Sure, he’s different from what you thought. Sure, he’s the best sex you’ve had. But you need to focus. ”
I got us into the building, and Tony ran up the stairs and into Mike’s apartment to find his lifeless body hanging by a scarf. I stood
in the doorway as I got a text. “Still here.”
Panic set in. I had to get Tony out. I ran back into the stairwell and pulled the fire alarm. Grabbing Tony’s hand we walked past the Henle fishbowl and headed back to Village B. I looked up at the sadness in his eyes. I melted. Suddenly I was holding his hand
and rambling about how I understood how he feels. What the hell, Corinne. Stop it. You don’t like him.
The squeaking cart interrupted my thoughts. It was the homeless Wingo’s guy, playing his radio. He pushed his cart past us as he looked straight at me. Like he knew. I held my breath until he passed us. Nelly Furtado’s “Maneater” started blasting from the old radio.
We got back to Village B, Tony immediately called Ryan. He screamed into the phone. “I think someone just tried to kill him, too!” Tony pulled me out of his apartment and ran across the front lawn towards Ryan’s. Ryan was alive and running to meet us. He
told us how some guy in a mask had tried to jump him and how he had fought him off, and showed us the cryptic poem left behind
by the attacker.
“Now that we know this is the killer,” I told Ryan, “you’re our first witness. We should go back to your house and see if we can find anything.” I led them back to Burleith.
They tore the place apart looking for evidence. I excused myself to the bathroom and checked my phone. Nothing.
I opened the door and found Ryan standing in my way. “Where’s Tony?” I asked.
“He went to get some fresh air.”
He took a step towards me.
“Did you find anything?” I cautiously inquired.
“Yeah.” He stalked closer, trapping me in the bathroom.
It was the first time I really paid attention to Ryan. A foot taller than me, blond hair, muscular, icy blue eyes, with a dangerous
smirk. He saw right through me.
I slowly stepped backwards, but he only continued to get closer. I had nowhere to go. His hand was suddenly around my neck, pinning me to the wall. He stared into my eyes with a brutal expression on his face. Why am I so turned on right now? My eyes locked with his. I let my sweatshirt slide off my arms, and he broke his gaze to look me over. Our hungry eyes met again for a split second before he kissed me hard and passionately. He pressed his body into mine as I softly bit his lower lip. He easily lifted me and set me on the sink counter, spreading my legs apart and pushing my dress up to my waist as I unzipped his shorts.
“Wait,” I said breathlessly, reaching into my purse. “I have a condom.”
His eyes were closed as he kissed my neck. All he heard was the crinkling of a wrapper and felt my hand on the back of his neck before
he cried out in pain.
Ryan stumbled backwards and saw the empty syringe in my hand. He clutched the side of his neck. His face was turning green. He opened his mouth to say something but was dead before he could. His eyes were still open as I gathered my stuff and ran out of the house.
On the corner across the street, a figure in a hooded sweatshirt was holding a black ski mask and smoking a Nat Sherman. I turned and nodded my head. The figure pointed back toward campus.
I walked fast to find Tony. I was two blocks away by the time I saw him walking away from the Wingo’s cart. “Look what that homeless guy just gave me,” he shouted, handing me a coupon flyer. On the back, another message was written.
Although kisses are sweet,
Don’t trust all those you meet.
Lies are in your path,
Before you  face my wrath,
Figure out what clock you have to beat.

…This wasn’t part of the plan.
— Mr. & Mrs. JK


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