I Can't Own You? (BOOK 1)

10

At a public library, I sit slurping on a Strawberry Frappuccino, ditching work because I got money. People scatter into the building, older couples, and some young adults, but in very few amounts. I mean...it is 9 am. I drink and continue checking my email for the hack site. So much spam had built up in my inbox. I didn't want to find the site on my new phone, because shit is always monitored...fuck you government!

So I decided to go more low key with asking the hackers to help clear out the card. I scroll my email, seeing:

"You won a new car! "

"Hello, do you remember me? "

And hormone pill ads, among the heap of junk mail.

My mind tries to remember the name of the original site I used...with no luck. My fingers tuck the black wig I have on, behind both of my ears. While doing this, I spy a guy eyeing me from my peripheral, standing near bookcases. This dude was at least 60. Ew. My outfit wasn't even that sexy; why is he looking?

Maybe my graphic T is a dick magnet 🤨

I search on in my email, spotting mail captions reading: get your dream dick, grow dick size emails. Mine is good; I like my size...easier to conceal. I go through my sent messages and locate the site I'd forgotten, having cleared my phone's history out of paranoia. Hack bait diamond, hmm no wonder I didn't memorize it. Get a new name. I minimize the browser, click the email, and scroll to the bottom. Feeling as if the mouse's roller sound was gonna get me caught. I find a link to the site. Success!

A group of college students enter the library in a playful mood, pushing one another and laughing obnoxiously. It's too early for all that...A dark red web page dials up on the screen with bold white intro words: We Have Your Back When You Need A Hack. I bypass the card number input tab beneath the slogan, and click on a contact link, which prompts me to a compose email screen:

To:HackBaitDiamond10@gmail.com

CC: ChrisDaBoss@gmail.com

Subject: Help needed

I have money that needs transferring off of a card I don't own. Is this something your service can provide help with?

This is my email: ChrisDaBoss@gmail.com.

SWOOSH. SENT.

A message sent notification pops up. I jump up as if the cops were coming right this instant, feeling adrenaline rush over me like ice water. Unable to feel my limbs but able to know that my heart is pumping. "Run away, run away!" I whisper harshly, picking up my purse, and hustling to the exit, double doors at the front of the library. RUN THE FUCK AWAY! Like my dumbass does a lot, I forgot to do something simple...exit out the illegal website...and sign out of my email.

When I turn to fix these mistakes, I spot the older man who was watching me earlier. Gray-haired and heavyset, the boomer snoops my computer screen, reading the contents of the website. Uh oh. I spin around and run out of the door like a racer, hackling like a witch. Run the fuck away, oh my guuddd!!!

"Miss?!" The man shouts as the door hits the frame behind me.

Outside in the freezing cold, I hug myself for warmth, sprinting to a bus stop right at the corner of the street. I blend in with strangers who wait for a ride. I take my phone out of a crossbody bag and stare at it, so I don't seem suspect. My sight spies the old man scanning the sidewalks, breathing out frost like a bull. A ding comes from my phone; a mail alert flashes on the screen. I unlock and tap the banner to view it:

From: HackBaitDiamond10@gmail.com

To: ChrisDaBoss@gmail.com

Subject: Verification

My team and I require proof of the funds. This is needed to verify that you are not a fed running a setup. This issue has forced us to flee and change our domain multiple times. So, please send the card number as proof. Once validated, the team will be able to assist you. We will, of course, need payment to proceed.