Blocked/Unblocked

Unknown Number: You looked ravishing in that suit today. And that tie? Nice touch. It really brought out your eyes.

Nathan frowned at the message, fingers hovering over his screen.

Me: Who is this?

The response came almost immediately.

Unknown Number: Just someone who lives in the building.

Nathan leaned back on his couch, glancing toward the window. His unit was on the top floor—he hadn’t exactly had time to mingle with neighbors yet.

Me: Friendly place, I guess. Do I know you?

Unknown Number: No, I don’t believe you do.

His jaw tightened slightly.

Me: How did you get my number?

Unknown Number: I have my ways. 😉

That gave him pause. A little too smug for a wrong number.

Me: Well, how about you just lose my number and we go our separate ways?

A longer pause this time. Then—

Unknown Number: That’s no way to treat a girl. But that’s fine.

Nathan exhaled, about to block the number when another message popped up.

Unknown Number: For the record, I would’ve liked to keep talking. I think you’d like me if you gave me a chance.

Nathan blocked her number.

Two Weeks Later

Nathan ran a hand down his face, exhaling sharply as he stepped into his apartment.

The argument was still ringing in his ears.

"You don’t take anything seriously, Nathan. Maybe you should figure out what you actually want before wasting my time."

Fine. Whatever. He didn’t care.

He tossed his keys onto the counter and collapsed onto the couch, unlocking his phone out of habit. His messages stared back at him, the last thread still sitting there.

Blocked Number.

His thumb hovered over it. It wasn’t like he was considering it. It wasn’t like he was thinking about her.

He shouldn’t. He wouldn’t.

...But his thumb tapped the screen anyway.

Unblock number?

He hesitated. The woman—whoever she was—had been messing with him. He didn’t need to entertain it. He didn’t need to—

Unblocked.

His pulse kicked up.

And before he could second-guess himself—

Unknown Number: It’s about time. I was starting to think you’d forgotten me.

Nathan sat up, his phone gripped a little tighter. His skin prickled.

Me: How did you—

Unknown Number: Know? Please. You were practically aching to unblock me.

He exhaled, shaking his head. She’s playing games.

Me: Yeah, well, I was bored.

Unknown Number: Mmm. No, you weren’t. You were lonely. She dumped you, didn’t she?

Nathan’s jaw tightened.

Me: Bold of you to assume I was dating someone.

Unknown Number: Oh, I don’t assume. I know.

Nathan ran his tongue along his teeth.

Me: Right. And how do you “know” that?

Unknown Number: Because I was there, sweetheart.

His heart skipped.

Unknown Number: Not physically, of course. But let’s just say I’ve gotten very good at listening through walls. And my, my… she was not happy with you, was she?

Nathan huffed, rolling his eyes.

Me: She had her moments.

Unknown Number: She was a bit of a pain, wasn’t she? So whiny. So demanding. And so very… meh.

Nathan blinked.

Me: Meh?

Unknown Number: You know what I mean. She wasn’t exciting. Not like me.

Something warm coiled in his chest.

Me: And what exactly makes you so exciting?

A pause.

Then—

Unknown Number: Well, for starters… I know exactly what you like. And I don’t whine when I don’t get my way.

His throat went dry.

Unknown Number: I also don’t fake it just to make a guy feel better.

Nathan tensed.

Me: And how the hell would you know that?

Unknown Number: Because I told you—I know you.

His heart was beating faster than it should’ve been.

Unknown Number: Besides, I think you already like me. Otherwise, why else would you come back?

Nathan swallowed, shifting on the couch.

Me: Curiosity. Nothing more.

Unknown Number: Liar. But that’s okay. I’ll let you pretend a little longer.

He exhaled through his nose, rubbing his jaw.

Me: And if I decide to block you again?

A pause.

Unknown Number: Then I guess I’ll just have to hope you change your mind… again.

Nathan let out a slow breath.

Unknown Number: But something tells me… you don’t really want to.

Me: And what makes you so sure?

Unknown Number: Because you’re still talking to me.

Nathan stared at the screen, fingers tightening around his phone.

She had a point.

And that was what unsettled him the most.

Nathan had convinced himself he was done. No more entertaining flirty messages from an anonymous number. No more wondering if she was just some neighbor messing with him or something else entirely.

And yet…

He found himself glancing at his phone more than once, half-expecting her to text first.

But she didn’t.

Not all night. Not the next morning.

It wasn’t until he stepped out of the shower, towel slung low on his hips, that his phone buzzed.

He grabbed it, thumb swiping across the screen before his brain caught up to what he was doing.

Unknown Number: You look good like that.

Nathan froze, muscles tensing as his breath caught in his throat.

His head snapped toward the window—curtains still drawn. The door—locked.

There was no way.

Me: Excuse me?

Unknown Number: Dripping wet. Towel hanging just a little too low. A single drop of water running down your chest. Quite the sight.

His grip on the phone tightened.

Me: This is getting old. Who the hell are you?

Unknown Number: Someone who appreciates you, Nathan. Unlike that girl you wasted your time on.

His jaw clenched.

Me: So you’re watching me? That’s supposed to impress me?

Unknown Number: No, sweetheart. That’s supposed to turn you on.

Nathan swallowed hard, heat creeping up his neck.

Me: It doesn’t.

Unknown Number: Liar. I could see the towel starting to rise.

He exhaled sharply through his nose, willing away the tight coil in his stomach.

Me: You talk a big game, but you still won’t tell me who you are. If you were serious, you’d at least give me a name.

A pause.

Unknown Number: I don’t think you’re ready for that yet.

Me: Try me.

Unknown Number: Mmm, you’re getting bold now. I like it.

Nathan rolled his shoulders, tension settling deep in his chest. This was insane. He should block her again.

And yet, his fingers hovered over the keyboard.

Unknown Number: But if you really want to know me…

Another pause.

Unknown Number: Maybe tease me a little. Try taking a nice long hot shower and I mean hot in every sense of the word.

His pulse kicked up.

Me: What?

Unknown Number: 😉

Nathan refused to let this get under his skin.

And yet, here he was—pacing his apartment, searching every inch of the walls, vents, and furniture for a camera, a mic, anything.

His phone buzzed.

Unknown Number: What exactly do you think you’re looking for?

Nathan didn’t stop flipping through the books on his shelf, checking between the pages just in case something had been slipped inside.

Me: I think you already know.

Unknown Number: Mmm, but I want to hear you say it.

He clenched his jaw.

Me: Cameras. Bugs. Some kind of surveillance.

Unknown Number: And you think someone went through all that trouble… just to get a peek at you in a towel?

Nathan exhaled sharply through his nose, moving to his bedroom. He tore the bedding off, running a hand along the headboard.

Nothing.

Unknown Number: You know, this is kind of hot in its own way.

Me: What is?

Unknown Number: You. Sweating. Panting. Desperate to know where I am.

Nathan froze for half a second before shaking it off and yanking open his closet door.

Me: I’m not playing whatever game this is.

Unknown Number: Oh, sweetheart. You’re already playing. You just don’t want to admit it.

He had to be missing something.

Finally, after two hours of searching and finding nothing, he made the call.

Within thirty minutes, a security team was at his door, sweeping every corner of the apartment with scanners and cameras.

Nathan crossed his arms, watching as they checked the light fixtures, the vents, even the tiniest cracks in the walls. The whole time, his phone remained silent.

And then—just as he started to think she had backed off—

Unknown Number: Ohhh, I like the blond one.

Nathan’s fingers tightened around his phone.

Me: What?

Unknown Number: The one checking your kitchen. He’s cute.

Nathan turned his head toward the man in question. Tall. Well-built. Didn’t look particularly pleased to be here, but definitely attractive in that rugged, ex-military kind of way.

Unknown Number: I’d love to do something dirty with him.

Nathan’s stomach twisted.

Unknown Number: But nothing compared to what I’ll do with you.

Heat flared up the back of his neck.

Me: You’re enjoying this way too much.

Unknown Number: And you’re pretending you don’t love it.

Nathan let out a slow breath.

Finally, after another forty-five minutes, the security team finished.

The verdict?

Nothing.

No cameras. No bugs. No wires.

The place was clean.

Nathan should have felt relieved.

But when he checked his phone again—

Unknown Number: Told you.

Nathan got pissed and threw his phone across the apartment.

Nathan expected another message.

Hell, he waited for it—his phone within reach, screen face-up on his nightstand, like he was daring it to light up again.

But it never did.

Not that night. Not the next morning.

For the first time since this whole thing started, she was silent.

And it pissed him off.

Not because he wanted to talk to her. Obviously.

It was just… annoying. He had questions. If she was screwing with him, why stop now? Why put in all that effort only to back off?

He told himself to forget it. He buried himself in work, in the gym, in anything that would keep his mind off her.

But by the third night, when he was alone in bed, staring at the ceiling, her voice—her words—started creeping in again.

"I’d love to do something dirty with him… but nothing compared to what I’ll do with you."

Nathan exhaled, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes.

That had been a joke. A tease. Just something to get under his skin.

And yet… his mind lingered on the idea.

Would she have actually done something with that guy?

Would she have let him watch?

His pulse ticked up. The idea was absurd. Stupid. Not worth entertaining.

But the damage was already done.

Because now, he was picturing it.

Not just the security guy, but her.

He had no face to put to the fantasy, but that only made it worse. Made it easier to imagine someone exactly his type—soft lips, bare skin, teasing eyes that promised so much more.

He let out a low breath, shifting slightly under the covers.

And then—

His phone buzzed.

His heart slammed against his ribs.

Slowly, he reached for the phone. Swiped open the screen.

Unknown Number: I wonder… did you picture it?

Nathan swallowed hard, fingers tightening around the device.

Unknown Number: Did you imagine what I’d do with you if I could?

Heat curled low in his stomach.

Unknown Number: Or did you imagine what I’d do if you earned it?

Nathan dragged his tongue across his bottom lip, forcing himself to stay still.

He should ignore her. Block her. Forget this ever happened.

Instead, his thumb hovered over the keyboard.

Me: That’s a hell of an assumption.

Unknown Number: Oh, sweetheart. That wasn’t an assumption.

Unknown Number: That was a statement.

Nathan let out a slow breath. His sheets felt too warm. His skin too aware.

He should end this.

Instead, he waited for her to say more.

But she didn’t.

The next message didn’t come.

Nathan let out a frustrated exhale, running a hand through his hair.

She’s doing it again.

Pulling him in. Letting him come to her.

And maybe that was why—when he stepped into the shower the next morning—he made sure it was a hot one.

Nathan let the scalding water pour over his shoulders, steam billowing around him in thick, curling waves.

He shut his eyes, exhaling, trying to let the heat wash away the tension coiling in his gut.

He needed to get her out of his head.

The teasing messages. The confidence. The way she acted like she knew everything about him.

He wasn’t playing her game anymore.

But then—

Something moved.

Nathan’s breath hitched.

Through the thick fog, beyond the glass shower door, the steam had gathered into a shape.

A woman’s silhouette.

Bent over the sink.

One hand bracing the counter. The other moving.

Nathan’s pulse spiked.

For a moment, he couldn’t breathe.

The mist blurred her features, yet the curves of her body remained unmistakable.

And then—as if she knew he was watching—

She arched her back.

A slow, deliberate shift of her hips.

An invitation.

Nathan ripped the shower door open—

And she was gone.

Nothing but steam curling through the air, dissipating like smoke.

But when his eyes snapped to the mirror—

There was a message, clear through the fog.

“Do you believe in ghosts?”

Nathan stared at the mirror, his breath slow and uneven.

Do you believe in ghosts?

His jaw tightened. A shiver crawled down his spine, his mind screaming for logic, for something rational—but nothing about this was rational.

His hand twitched at his side.

No.

No, he didn’t believe in ghosts.

But… he did believe in coincidences.

Maybe that’s all this was.

Maybe.

Nathan turned sharply, stalking out of the bathroom, ripping his towel off and throwing on his boxers without a second thought. His fingers were already reaching for his laptop before his body had even registered what he was doing.

His hands flew across the keyboard.

If someone had died in this building, there had to be a record.

Something.

At first—nothing.

No reports. No murders in the apartment.

He nearly slammed the laptop shut right then.

But on impulse, he expanded the search—just a little.

And that’s when he found it.

Nathan’s stomach tightened as he skimmed the words.

November 12, 2010

Evelyn Grey, 23, was found dead in a dumpster behind Holloway Drive

The cause of death was listed as an overdose, but due to the way her body was found, police suspected foul play.

Friends say she was privately working as a call girl, but none knew who she was servicing the night she disappeared.

Nathan exhaled slowly.

His fingers hovered over his phone.

He shouldn’t.

But before he could stop himself, he started typing.

Me: are you Evelyn Grey?”

Nathan’s phone buzzed in his hand, but he barely noticed.

Because the name had changed.

No longer Unknown Number.

Now, she had a name.

Evelyn Grey.

Evelyn: I am.

Nathan’s fingers tightened. A slow, deep breath filled his lungs before he typed his next message.

Me: What happened?

A pause.

Then—

Evelyn: Oh, you know. One bad decision, a dumpster, and a lot of wasted potential.

Nathan swallowed.

Me: Evelyn…

Evelyn: Alright, alright. You asked, so I’ll tell you.

Another pause.

Then the next message came in slowly, one after another, like she was letting him process each part before moving on.

Evelyn: I just started working as a call girl. First night on the job.

Evelyn: I was nervous. Excited. Had this idea in my head that I’d be making good money and living the high life.

Evelyn: Showed up at the apartment, asked to use the restroom before getting started.

Evelyn: Took a pill a friend gave me—said it would help me relax.

Evelyn: I was so nervous that I took three of them without even realizing it.

Nathan’s stomach tightened.

Evelyn: My heart didn’t like that very much.

Evelyn: One second, I was breathing. The next, I wasn’t.

Nathan exhaled slowly.

Me: The client?

Evelyn: Oh, he panicked. Big time.

Evelyn: Didn’t call an ambulance. Didn’t want a dead hooker on his hands.

Evelyn: So, he got rid of me.

Nathan closed his eyes.

Evelyn: I can’t really leave the apartment. Ghost rules and all. So, I wasn’t sure what he did with my body until now. Dumped me in the trash like last night’s takeout.

Evelyn: And just like that… that was the end of me.

Nathan stared at the screen, his fingers tight around his phone.

His heart shouldn’t have been racing.

But it was.

Me: So, what happens now?

A long pause.

Then—

Evelyn: That depends.

Nathan exhaled, dragging a hand through his hair.

Me: On what?

Evelyn: On you.

His chest tightened.

Me: What do you want?

Evelyn: Oh, I already told you. I can’t leave. Ghost rules and all.

Evelyn: But you? You can do whatever you want.

Nathan frowned, his mind turning over her words.

He could walk away from this—ignore the texts, pretend none of this ever happened, chalk it up to stress, to paranoia, to anything but what it really was.

Or—

He could accept it. Accept her.

Me: And if I stay?

The response was almost immediate.

Evelyn: Then we have a lot to talk about.

Nathan exhaled sharply, pushing back from his desk and pacing the room.

This was insane.

This was beyond insane.

But his fingers itched to type back, to keep the conversation going, to push further into whatever the hell this was becoming.

Finally, he stopped pacing. Sat back down. Picked up his phone.

Me: Alright, Evelyn. Let’s talk.

Evelyn: Good choice.

And just like that, the screen flickered—

Then shut off.

A whisper of laughter curled through the air.

The lights flickered once.

Then, the closet door—

Slowly.

Deliberately.

Swung open.

Nathan exhaled through his nose, rubbing at his jaw as a slow smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

"Alright," he muttered to himself.

"Let’s talk."