61

"Adrienne!" her mother called from the living room in a croaky voice. She was currently suffering from what she called a cold but was more likely a smoker's cough. The woman smoked over 40 a day and had done for as far back as Adrienne could remember.

"You have a guest!" her mother added, prompting her girl to place her headset down and make her way down the stairs.

Her mum was standing beside Damien, wearing her faded pink robe with a cigarette in one hand and a TV remote in the other.

He looked out of place in her house. Her tiny home filled with cheap knickknacks and clashing floral designs.

"Let's go up to your room," Damien said, taking a step past her and making a B-line toward the narrow little staircase.

"No!" Adrienne cried, chasing after him. She followed him up the stairs and scurried past him, guarding her bedroom with her life. "Y—You can't go in there."

"Why?" Damien asked.

He'd never visited her home before today. He'd never had reason to, considering the fact his house was closer to town and way more impressive than her own. With this fact in mind, she'd had no problem decorating her bedroom with images of her crush—both photographs and artwork she had loving created herself. As an art student, she was pretty talented, and Damien was her subject of choice. She had over thirty pictures of him on display and there was no way she was going to let him see this strange and obsessive homage.

Adrienne thought up a lie on the spot. "It's way too dirty. It's disgusting. There are dirty knickers on the floor."

"Oh." Damien nodded and made a face. "Not because of the Damien shrine, then?"

Her lips slowly parted, jaw slack. For a good few seconds, she couldn't breathe let alone speak.

"I... what... no..." she muttered, shaking her head in denial.

"Oh, come on," Damien said with an impatient sigh. He pushed past her, entering the room and sitting on the sofa without even glancing at her humiliating display of artwork.

"You love me, right?" he asked.

"I—" Adrienne swallowed. She nodded, unable to say the words under the harsh spotlight of his gaze.

"You worship me... if this shrine you've created is any indication," Damien said. She wasn't sure if this was a question or a statement, but nodded again, feeling her cheeks burn with shame.

"Will you do anything for me?" he asked. "Will you do anything I demand?"

"Yes," Adrienne whispered without even giving it a second thought. She would gouge out her own eyes if he wished it.

"Hmm." Damien smiled. "I need you to drive me about and follow my instructions."

"Y—You can drive," Adrienne pointed out, confused.

"Yes, I can drive. The problem is, I need to use my psychic abilities to track my target, and that takes up all of my concentration," he said.

A small, nervous giggle escaped Adrienne's lips before she realised he wasn't joking.

"Yes, I have psychic powers." He took a deep breath and sighed. "I could list off every fantasy you've had about me if you need proof, but we'd be here all day. I like the one where I am the king, and you are the naked slave chained to my bed."

"Oh, God," Adrienne leaned forward, covering her mouth. She felt the bile rising in her throat and for a moment thought she would actually vomit all over herself.

"And the one where I blackmailed you into—" he started.

"Oh, please!" Adrienne cried, raising a hand to his mouth in desperation. "Please, please, I believe you, okay? Please stop."

"You don't have to worry," he reassured her in a calm voice. "Your fantasies are no more weird and perverted than anybody else's."

This did not make her feel better. Her mind would not stop cycling through every embarrassing scenario she'd ever created in her imagination.

Damien screwed up his face and tilted his head, giving her a knowing look. "I am a little disturbed by the part where I urinate on your face."

Adrienne screamed and covered her face. She fell to the floor, curled up into a ball and began to cry.

"Oh come on." Damien poked her with his foot. "It's okay. I'm just teasing. Honest. I'll pee on you if you ask me nicely."

She couldn't bear to hear any more so covered her ears with her hands and made a low whining sound to drown it out.

Electric sparks flew down her arms as he covered her hands with his and gently pulled them away, uncovering her ears.

"I'm sorry." He gave her a pitying look. "I'll stop now. And in return, you will be my chauffeur. Right?"

Adrienne nodded.

"You'll do anything and everything I say, right?"

She continued to nod, acutely away that his hands were caressing hers.

"Great. My Lexus is parked up outside. You can drive it while I instruct you. It might take a while for me to get my bearings so it will feel like an aimless drive in the country until I get a lock on my target." Damien threw her a car key. "Pack an overnight bag with spare clothes and let's get going."

"N—now?" Adrienne asked. When she took up her legs felt unsteady and shaky. Her heart was beating double-time as if she'd necked three double espressos, and she couldn't see it slowing any time soon.

"Yes. Chop chop." Damien clapped his hands together and flashed a wicked grin.

Adrienne pulled her favourite outfits from her wardrobe. She wanted to look good for Damien, but at the same time, she didn't want to piss him off by picking out every cool accessory in her arsenal.

"No make-up. No accessories. Just plain clothing," Damien said. "What you look like, your style, your fashion sense... it is all meaningless to me. I'm friends with you because of what's on the inside, as trite as that sounds.

Adrienne paused her packing, smiling to herself briefly before continuing to grab a couple of plain black dresses, underwear, and a pair of pumps.

"Come on." Damien looked back at her as he led her down the stairs and into the living room. "We have a long journey ahead of us."

Adrienne didn’t think to question what they were tracking and why. She trusted Damien implicitly. Later on, she would look back and question this, but for now, all was right with the world.