What They Deserve

TWENTY-TWO

He found that the time he spent with Willow was much different from the time he spent with Raven. It was far more enjoyable to be able to openly mock her whereas Raven would have called him out on it within seconds. But Willow was oblivious to it; she seemed to enjoy his mocking. He sensed she viewed it as something different, as flirting. 

The original plan  hadn't included anything besides taking her to dinner. But he wasn’t very hungry when he picked her up and he knew she enjoyed going to the movies. It had been a last-minute decision as he headed to her place and it just worked out that the movie she was interested in was playing at the time they showed up. He could care less about watching any kind of movie at any time in any place. It was a rare occasion when he sat down to even watch the television. If he did, it was because that’s what the women he was watching were doing. And even then, his attention was on his victim, not the flashing screen on their walls.

He liked the cafe she took him to and decided it would be simple to take her back there. It was familiar to her and she wasn't one to venture out, explore the horizon. She’d even admitted that when they first talked about traveling.

When he took her back to her apartment, she seemed shy. All the flirtiness she’d exhibited earlier was gone. He knew she wanted him to kiss her, but she wasn't about to make the move and that intrigued him. Despite everything he’d seen, he’d never pegged her to be traditional in any way. But he wasn't making any moves either. Figuring this was the perfect opportunity to leave her dangling, to string her along the way she did men, he offered her his hand.

She didn't show her disappointment when she accepted the handshake and watched him turn to leave. Instead, he heard her door open, then close with a quiet click. His night wasn’t over and he took the stairs down and went to his watchpoint.

Since she never closed her blinds, he was  grateful for the easy view, but it also irked him. There were many times he wondered just how many other men were peering into her windows, watching her. Sure most of them, maybe all of them were perverts, he snickered. What you get is what you deserve.

After a few minutes, she emerged into her bedroom, flicking the light switch up, a soft glow coming to life and filling the room.  She tossed her purse and phone onto the bed, kicked her shoes off in the general direction of the closet, and began to strip.

It was no surprise. He doubted that she even had blinds at this point.

For the first time, in a long time, he felt his face heat as he turned away from the view. He was used to seeing their naked bodies when he gave them their punishments, but it never had any effect on him. And plenty of his targets had done just as she was doing. But it wasn't right to see their nudeness after their first date. A part of him hated that he did turn away because why did they deserve this respect when they didn’t even respect themselves enough to close the blinds or the curtains? 

The anger flared from his gut, vibrating through his body, as those thoughts flowed through his mind. Here she was stripping. She didn't care if anyone could see her, didn't care if anyone was watching her. This was one of her ways to taunt men. Not just her. All of them. It was always the same with all of them.

Turning back, his nostrils flared as he breathed out, his gaze landed on her as she finished dressing. The look she had on her face was serene and he figured that she was either replaying their date or planning their next rendezvous. Despite whatever she was thinking about, he had an idea for the next date; something he felt she'd be comfortable doing, judging by the whole scene he’d just witnessed.

It bothered him that she was getting to him so much at that moment. How many times had he watched her do this? How many times had she put on a show for him and any other intruding eyes without giving it a second thought? Maybe it was the fact that they’d gone out, but that made no sense to him. He’d never had any issues with such intense anger any other time for any of them.

For a split second, he considered that maybe this time he felt so affected because there was something more he felt toward her. Don’t be absurd. But the more he thought about it, the more their situation reminded him of his first victim. And that added more fuel to the fire.

They flirted the same way, for sure. Willow even resembled his first. But she hadn’t turned him down, hadn’t acted like he was crazy for asking for a chance to go out with her. Another thought came to mind. What if he felt this way because this was his second chance? What if Willow was victim one incarnate? 

Stunned and a little apprehensive, he looked back into the room to see that she was sprawled across her bed, just staring up at the ceiling. 

What are you thinking about? And what the hell are you doing to me?

With all of the thoughts running through his mind, he was starting to question his decision to make contact with her so soon. It was going to be at least a week before he’d be able to do anything to her because no matter what, Raven was going to be taken care of first. What was he going to do with Willow for a week? Feeling the way he felt was not something he was willing to deal with. 

Shaking his head, gritting his teeth, he glared at her, willing her to feel his hatred.

After several long seconds, she got off of the bed and went to the wall. She turned the light off, casting the room into darkness, shadows playing on the walls. He stood up, deciding to go do some work on her place and work off his frustration.