Jonna's Fantastical Sexcapades

27. Work Wife

"Nothing? Really?"

Jonna sighed, listening to the noncommittal answers on the other end of the line. A few minutes later, she thanked the operator and hung up.

Then she considered why she had thanked them.  They hadn't told her anything helpful.

In fact, the police dispatcher informed Jonna they couldn't do anything because she couldn't prove who had left the pictures. Her adamant reply that it had been Shane was met with more tedious explanations on how she had no evidence to that effect.

Jonna wanted to ask about an officer coming to her office, but she hadn't. They probably would've told her no, anyway.

After the call, she took several deep breaths. Her heart was still pounding. Her hands shook as she shoved the pictures into her bag.

In her current state, it was hard to envision her date with Laney later this evening.

Jonna watched her reflection on the onyx and smooth surface of her cell phone laying face up on her desk. She picked up the phone, typed in a message, then deleted it. Again, she started to type a message but gave up.

What can I say?

Slowly, she placed the phone face down on to the desk. Canceling with Laney wasn't an option. Plus, it would only mean Shane still had power over her.

With a few hours left before their date, Jonna grabbed the nearest stack of student submissions. At first, it was hard to concentrate on the words, but eventually, she fell into a rhythm of marking each page. Eventually, her hands ceased shaking.

The sharp anxiety brought on by the pictures faded, replaced by a burgeoning excitement to see Laney.

~*~

Jonna marked one last comment on the paper before standing.

She eyed the stack of submissions with satisfaction, deciding she'd come to a good stopping point.

Her phone chirped with a reminder; only an hour until she had to meet with Laney! Plenty of time to run home, slide a wet wipe under her armpits, and change clothes. Unless a proper shower was in order, but she didn't want to risk being late.

She reached for her bag, shaking her head at the folder of pictures. It seem like that had happened a while ago now

Then the door creaked open. Heavy footfalls scraped the floor.

Jonna whirled to greet what she hoped was a student.

Instead, she was met with a wide-eyed White man. His brown beard was untrimmed, complementing his disheveled brown hair. Through her panic, Jonna took a second to study him and realized the stranger was Shane. Looking like he needed a shower and new clothes, but it was him.

"What are you doing here?"

She attempted to edge to the open door, but he noticed and blocked her with his body.

"I'm not the one who has to explain anything."

"What do you mean?" Jonna asked, not really caring for his answer or big-bad plan reveal.

Behind her back, she gripped her phone with one hand.

"You are addicted to being with anyone and everyone. You're sick."

He stepped close, crowding her to back against a nearby bookshelf. Shane's wide eyes were glazed over. Jonna knew the look, had seen it hundreds of times. He was on something, and that something always imbued him with paranoia and confidence, an ill-fated combo.

Carefully, Jonna moved her index finger, hoping she was swiping the right buttons.

"I don't think so," Jonna said in an effort to buy herself more time.

"You're a damn sex addict."

At that, she couldn't help but laugh. Shane clenched his fists, nudging his chest against hers.

The movement scared her and the phone slipped from her hands, clattering on the floor.

Shane stared at it, noticing the large "9" on the dialing screen.

"I---," but Jonna's explanation was lost.

Shane grabbed her by the shoulders and slammed her against the bookshelf.