Dose 𝓣wenty-Three

Dose Twenty-Three Observations:
Subject appears to be paranoid.

⨳ ⨳ ⨳

I woke up early the next morning for another run. Something about the adrenaline—how my lungs burned and my body felt warm despite the crisp air.

It was addictive.

I even had a little coffee for a caffeine boost, and I swear this run was better than yesterday’s.

There was a satisfaction that came with it.

One that made me text Monroe as soon as I got back.

Me: did another run this morning:) idkkk might be a runner now

I’m not even sure why I texted her—at least in the way that I used to, but I needed her to know.

I wanted her to know how successful running has suddenly become for me.

Then I decided to shower and get dressed in a pair of black sweatpants and a pink off-the-shoulder sweater.

Monroe had texted me back by the time I finished, and her contact flashing on my home screen was enough for my stomach to do a random flip.

I pushed the feeling away quicker than it lasted, unlocking my phone to read her text.

Monroe: That’s lovely to hear.

My stare shifted down slightly, noticing the typing bubbles briefly appear.

Then her second text buzzed through.

Monroe:  I’m sensing a running date in our future.

I rolled my eyes and smiled at the same time.

The eye roll was because I was smiling, but nonetheless, I had that giddy feeling buried in my stomach.

I missed this.

I missed the feeling of being excited over someone.

The sky suddenly feels brighter, and the sun’s hotter despite the chilly fall air setting in.

Everything feels right, even on the days when nothing is working out.

I’ve even started paying attention to songs again.

They sound more romantic than the last time I heard them, and suddenly every lyric has meaning to me.

Time somehow moves slower when my phone doesn’t light up, but faster when it finally does.

I even catch myself smiling in the middle of something ordinary—like pouring my water, or waiting at a red light.

It’s fucking ridiculous, but I actually don’t want it to stop.

It feels relieving to experience all over again, especially as I texted her back, smiling widely as I typed on my phone.

Me: oh you’re already planning a second date?

I pursed my lips into a smile once the text delivered through, leaning down to pet Jynx as I watched the typing bubbles appear immediately.

Then her text buzzed through.

Monroe: Who’s to say this isn’t what I had planned for our first date?

I shook my head with a smile at her message, pulling my hand away from Jynx to quickly type my response back.

Me: well sorry to break it to you but i’m all out of energy for another run today
Me: i’ll have to rain check

I smiled as the texts sent through, going back to petting Jynx as we remained in the bathroom.

Monroe started typing even quicker than last time, somehow making my annoying excitement grow.

Monroe: Oh, we definitely can’t have that, beautiful.

I drew in a deep breath, rereading her text over and over as she continued typing.

Her next text didn’t take but a few seconds to buzz through.

Monroe: Other arrangements for tonight are already handled. The details will be sent to you soon.

I furrowed my brow, wondering what that meant.

I started typing immediately, halting petting Jynx for a brief moment.

Me: details sent to me? what do you mean?

The typing bubbles appeared again, but this time for barely a few seconds.

Monroe: I’ll see you tonight, Liberty.

I rolled my eyes at her message, determining this was very on brand for her.

I forgot how much she would surprise me, or leave out certain details for me to figure out later.

A huge part of me is really excited this time around.

I want to see what she has planned.

What does doing it right this time around mean to her?

That’s what I want to figure out.

I let out a soft sigh, locking my phone as I rose from Jynx.

“I’ll be back in a few, Jynxie,” I murmured, walking past her out of the bathroom.

Now it’s time to head downstairs and ask the staff about possible security footage.

I quickly slipped on a pair of my Uggs and grabbed my keys.

Also, the note since that was important too.

Then I left my apartment and walked down the hallway toward the elevators.

It smelled like someone had burnt their toast this morning, mixed with the usual sterile cleaning products that the building staff used.

I was calm, knowing there had to be some kind of solution to what was occurring.

Panicking would only cloud my judgment right now.

The first letter seemed like something someone would send me after seeing me talk to the Leclairs.

It happened Saturday night after a big event where numerous pairs of eyes could’ve been on me, and the letter didn’t seem threatening.

Just a warning.

But this one…

You’ll regret this—that sounds threatening.

I glanced up when the elevator dinged open.

Two other people were inside, an older woman scrolling on her phone and a guy in a tailored suit who looked like he worked at a law firm.

They glanced at me and returned to their own worlds as I stepped on.

The lobby button was already clicked, so I just watched the doors smoothly slide closed and felt the elevator jerk down.

I watched the digital panel as we descended each level before the doors dinged open on the first floor, allowing me to step off after the other two people.

“Good morning,” I said as I walked over to the lobby.

There was a woman waiting at the front desk with her dark hair in a tight bun and a nameplate that read MANDY.

She also had a mug with the words WORLD’S OKAYEST MANAGER on it, half full of coffee.

“Good morning,” she smiled at me.

“I’m Liberty Fierro. I live on the twenty-second floor—unit twenty-two twelve,” I immediately said, giving her all the necessary information. “I uh need to check if there’s security footage from last night. Around eight-forty, something happened at my door.”

The woman’s eyebrows raised. “Okay. Can you give me more details?”

“Someone left an envelope at my door. This was the second time, actually,” I briefly explained, reaching in the pocket of my sweatpants for the folded-up piece of stationery. “Here it is.”

Her dark eyes darted down to the paper I sat on the crisp white marble.

“You’ll regret this,” she read aloud, glancing back up at me. “Did you call the police?” she immediately asked.

“No,” I said, blinking a few times. “Not yet, I guess. I wanted to see what you have first.”

She nodded. “Well. We’ll need you to fill out an incident report. I’ll pull the time stamp you gave me. Our cameras cover the lobby, elevators, parking garages, and main entry,” she briefly explained. “We don’t have cameras inside each hallway, due to resident privacy, as that’s for everyone’s privacy, but the elevator and lobby feed should show whoever came in and out around that time.”

I nodded immediately, relief flowing through me, “Okay, good. Can you guys check all the cameras then?”

“We can,” Mandy said with a polite smile. “Do you have your ID on you?”

I quickly grabbed my wallet hanging on my lanyard, unbuttoning it to grab my ID and hand it over to her.

The woman scanned it immediately, said my unit number aloud, typed some more, and then slid a clipboard toward me.

“Sign here, please, Ms. Fierro. We’ll start the request, and if the footage exists, we can make a copy, but it has to be logged. Usually, the security company will pull the clip and put it on a server, but they might need time,” she briefly explained.

“How much time?” I asked.

I’m well aware that footage doesn’t sit forever.

It can overwrite after a week, and I needed it now.

“It depends on the company,” Mandy answered, handing my ID back to me. “But since this is an urgent safety issue, we can get something same day. I’ll even flag this report as urgent for you, but I can’t guarantee an exact time.”

I nodded immediately. “That sounds good to me,” I murmured with a smile. “Thank you.”

“Of course, Ms. Fierro,” she politely said, her fingers typing fast on her keyboard. “Did you want me to look at the building access log, too? We have fob swipes at the main door.”

“Yes, actually,” I said, realizing this person had to get in the building somehow.

I wanted to know how.

Mandy nodded, typing a little more before she excused herself and disappeared into a back room.

I waited barely a few minutes before she came back with another staff member.

He looked middle-aged with a head of dark hair and brown eyes.

“This is Ethan,” Mandy said. “He handles security liaison with the company. Could I get you to tell him what time the envelope was slid under your door?”

I nodded as I repeated the time for reference again.

Then he asked me a bunch of questions.

What the envelope looked like, whether there were any marks on the threshold, if I’d noticed people loitering earlier.

I described it all, and he even analyzed the piece of paper, reading the three words printed on it.

Ethan nodded, briefly pursing his lips as he set the notecard back down on the counter. “Okay. We’ll check for a person matching the timeframe you specified. The lobby feed can be easier since someone has to come through the main doors, but the elevator feed is trickier with the angle, but we’ll check and send over any updates to the email you provided.”

“Okay, thank you,” I murmured, nodding with a relieved smile.

Ethan nodded once. “Anytime, it’s our job,” he said, briefly glancing down at his clipboard. “I’ll also put a hold on any relevant clips so it doesn’t get overwritten.”

“Good, thank you, Ethan,” Mandy said, typing a few times on her computer. “If it’s an ongoing thing, we recommend filing a police report too, even if it’s preliminary.”

“I’ll do that if you see someone on the footage,” I determined, not wanting to escalate this quite yet. “For now, I just want the footage, if possible.”

“We’re on it, Ms. Fierro,” Mandy said, looking up from her computer. “Let us know if you need anything else at all, please.”

I nodded once, “Thanks,” I murmured, backing away from the front desk to walk back over to the elevators.

I left the lobby feeling so much lighter.

This was a good first step.

I’m not sure what the plan is once I get any footage, but at least I’ll have it and see whoever was behind these letters.

I furrowed my brows as I walked down the hallway, noticing a bouquet of crisp red roses at my door wrapped in black paper.

And… an envelope attached.

It made my stomach sink, glancing around so quickly that it gave me whiplash.

I didn’t even want to approach my front door.

They were just here.

I was standing in the lobby, and they were here.

What the fuck.

I let out a deep breath, squeezing my hands together when they twitched by my sides.

My heart pumped deeper in my chest, so loudly that I could hear it in my ears.

I swiftly grabbed the flowers and notecard, unlocking my door as quickly as I could before rushing into my apartment and slamming the door behind me.

Jynx stared up at me like I was crazy, tilting her head just enough to let me know she was judging me.

“You try getting threatening notes,” I mumbled childishly, walking past her to set the flowers down and pluck the notecard tucked within them.

It was black with white lace around it.

Different than the ones I had been receiving.

I ripped it open without a further thought and tugged the notecard from it to read immediately.

There were coordinates printed on the card, which alarmed me.

Until I read what was written underneath them in her familiar handwriting.

Be ready for me at seven and wear your favorite print. Cheetah.
-Ro Ro

I let out a deep sigh, dropping the notecard on the counter.

I could breathe again, and my heart rate seemed to be at a steady pace again.

Thank god.

I tilted my head, suddenly glancing back down at the notecard.

Ro Ro.

I read the signed nickname again and again, somehow smiling like a fucking idiot as I read it.

I’ve… missed that.

More than I realized.  

I glanced away from the note entirely, suddenly excited to pick out my outfit for tonight.

She told me to wear cheetah print.

She remembers.

Well, of course, she remembers.

That woman probably remembers everything she’s ever looked at.

But still, it made my stomach twirl at the idea of her remembering that small detail about me.

I ran off to my closet with full excitement, grabbing my phone to text back Zion and Sarai in the group chat.

I filled Zion in last night over cookies, so he wasn’t left out.

I also didn’t want to put Sarai in another awkward position where she had to keep another one of my secrets.

They both knew I wouldn’t be at work again today.

I honestly could’ve gone, but I chose the easy way out.

I tilted my head at the mesh cheetah print dress, trying to decide if I wanted to listen to Monroe’s request.

Or purposely wear something else.

I really liked this one black dress I had.

It was short-sleeved and a smooth material that clung to my body.

The back was also exposed with only one thick strap running across my mid-back.

I decided on it without further thought.

Then I picked out a pair of sheer black thigh-high stockings and cheetah stilettos.

It was a way of wearing what she told me to, but keeping it subtle on purpose.

Once I had my outfit picked out, I needed to distract myself.

At least for a few more hours, since I planned to get ready early on purpose.

There’s no way I’ll be a second late tonight.

I actually wanted to be at least ten minutes early, so I started getting ready at four.

That allowed me three hours, and my hair seemed to be working with me right off the bat.

I got it slicked up into a high bun within an hour, using gel to emphasize my baby hairs and frame my face better.

Then I did my makeup with foundation and a little extra concealer, especially under my eyes.

I also bronzed the hell out of my face and blended like crazy before adding mascara.

I was nearly glowing, and it all looked really natural.

It was the perfect look—actually, my favorite look.

I determined that I would do it again, and it might even be my signature look for a little while, especially with my toasty brown lip liner and rosy gloss.

I felt like the definition of sex appeal once I slid my stilettos on and adjusted my stockings.

It was perfect.

I felt perfect.

I even sprayed on my Saint Laurent black opium perfume, going for a warmer sexy scent.

I also rubbed some vanilla oil on my wrists and neck.

I was fully ready and good to go fifteen minutes ahead of time, giving me time to smell the roses I had put in a vase with clean water.

I also reread the notecard, realizing I never looked up the coordinates she left on there.

It was obviously a hint at something, especially since Monroe is really fucking detailed, so I opened Google immediately and began typing the coordinates in.

My eyes narrowed as soon as the search results loaded.

And then—

I smiled.

I grinned, actually.

“She’s so fucking cute,” I whispered to myself, reading the name of the familiar bookstore.

Or speakeasy.

The Archive.

It’s been so fucking long since I even stepped foot in there, much less thought about that place.

Wow.

We’re really doing this right, all the way down to the beginning of everything.

I glanced up, noticing the time was verging closer to seven, and I already planned to wait at the front of the building on purpose.

I quickly grabbed my purse and leaned down to kiss Jynx goodbye, quickly rushing out of my apartment to head down to the lobby.

My face was full of warmth, and my lower stomach was filled with frenzied butterflies.

I couldn’t wait to see her or even spend the evening with her.

I’m also excited to go back to The Archive again.

I swear I stood with the cheesiest grin on my lips, waiting in front of the entrance to my apartment.

It was a little chilly out, but I had already pulled on a long black fur coat.

I would’ve worn the original fur coat I wore my very first night at The Archive, but I couldn’t find it, probably from all the moving I’ve done in the last few months.

Either way, I still had a fur coat on, so that counted for something.

My grin spread wider as soon as I noticed the familiar black Bentley—the tinted windows giving away nothing inside.

The headlights were bright as the car pulled up directly in front of me, coming to a calm halt.

I stepped forward, about to open my door.

That was until the tinted window smoothly rolled down, giving me a view inside the car.

“I always come up to get you, Liberty,” her soft voice practically scolded me as I glanced down, taking in her appearance.

But she had already reached for her door handle, smoothly sliding out of the driver’s seat and rising to her tall height.

My brows immediately raised at the jacket she wore.

It was… cheetah print?

“Monroe,” I said, my tacky smile growing as she approached me.

“You wait inside next time,” was all she said as I openly watched her approach me.

I zoned in on her black blouse that cut across her chest, covering her chest appropriately.

She also had on this pencil skirt and sheer stockings that she wore with shiny black stilettos.

Her brown hair was down, leaving her bangs to frame her perfect face.

She looked so fucking hot.

And beautiful.

Her face was glowing as usual, and her lips had this perfect shade of lipstick on them.

“Thank you,” I forced out as best as I could when she reached past me to open my door, making my stare drift up to meet hers. “Beautiful,” I said before thinking it through, making me blink a few times like an idiot, “You’re really—you look beautiful.”

Monroe’s soft lips twitched up, holding my stare as her body barely brushed mine, her floral scent breezing around me. “Thank you, Liberty,” she softly whispered, briefly glancing down.

At my heels.

“I see you followed my instructions,” she murmured, tilting her head as she met my stare. “Only what was necessary, it seems.”

My lips drifted into a smirk. “Couldn’t give in fully. You know that,” I said, sliding down into the passenger seat before she could say anything else.

Monroe hummed softly as I buckled my seatbelt, her blue eyes burning into my entire fucking existence for the longest moment.

Then she finally closed the door with a soft thud, rounding the car with tall posture and her chin tilted back as usual.  

Within seconds, she slid into the car beside me, making me draw in a soft breath with a smile nearly stuck on my lips at this point.

“Tell me about your day.”

It was the first thing she said upon buckling her seatbelt, calmly grabbing the gearshift, and putting the car in drive.

“Uneventful,” I determined, unsure what to really tell her. “I did that run, watched some TV, and then I got ready extra early for you.”

“For me,” she calmly emphasized, her lips twitching up ever so slightly. “What else did you do today, Liberty?”

I narrowed my eyes just slightly at her, wondering if she knew already about the note or what my morning consisted of.  

“Do I need to refresh you on our favorite story?” Monroe asked just as I parted my lips to speak. “The fisherman and the coin,” she clarified, making me freeze whether I could help it or not.

Because that story gave back very specific memories.

Steak.

A very sharp knife.

And the lack of air.

I couldn’t fucking breathe throughout that entire story she told me.

“Or do we want to have a good night, Liberty?” she suddenly spoke again, briefly glancing over at me. “I assume we do, yes?” she murmured so softly that it made goosebumps run down my spine.

“So you know,” I determined.

“Of course, I know. Did you assume that you could file a report and I wouldn’t hear about it?” Monroe calmly asked, focusing on the road while I stared at her.

“You have a lot on your plate. That’s all,” I quickly explained. “I didn’t tell you for that reason. Please don’t read deeper into it.”

Monroe was silent, her expression calm as she flicked on her signal, turning at the light displaying a bright green.

“I appreciate,” she paused, drawing in a deep breath. “I appreciate that you took that into consideration,” she spoke again, her words sounding stiffer than before.

It was her therapist tone.

“But this is a boundary for me. I would like to be aware of things like this. From you personally, Liberty,” Monroe added, making me purse my lips.

“Okay,” was all I could say, “Thank you for telling me?” I whispered, my words coming out as more of a question rather than a statement. “Was that the right thing to say?”

“The perfect thing,” she murmured, briefly meeting my stare. “Do you have anything you want to add?”

I shook my head with furrowed brows. “No, I just want you to know that I didn’t say anything for a reason—a good reason, you know. I didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

She nodded, halting the car behind a few others waiting at a red light.

“I know it wasn’t malicious or with ill intent,” Monroe clarified, suddenly spreading open her right hand resting by the gearshift. “I only wanted to address this moving forward. The right way, as you recall?”

I nodded.

Then—

I glanced down at her open hand, hesitantly lifting mine to rest it in hers.

She was warm and really fucking soft.

She immediately wrapped her hand around mine, interlacing our fingers perfectly.

It made me smile, briefly squeezing her soft hand in mine.

“The right way,” I murmured, mostly to myself.

“I already have a team of people on this issue,” she explained, driving forward when the other cars rolled forward at the light that flickered green. “We’ll discuss that more later.”

I forced a nod, even if my brows unconsciously furrowed together.

But I knew she wanted to take the focus off this for our date.

I wanted to, as well.

Tonight should be about our new beginning.

A fresh start.

The right way.

So for right now, this needs to be pushed to the side.

I gently squeezed her hand in mine, staring down at our hands interwoven together. “How was your day?” I suddenly asked, wanting to keep some kind of topic going.

“Good,” Monroe murmured, “There were the usual meetings and testing.”

I hummed softly, glancing out of the window at the cloudy sky and tall downtown buildings we passed by, asking her more questions about the meetings she had.

She couldn’t exactly discuss the details of the lab tests, but it was nice to hear about some part of her day.

Before I knew it—we were parked in front of the familiar bookstore.

The vintage bookstore looked exactly the same.

Even from outside.

“I’ll walk in first,” Monroe said as she unbuckled her seatbelt, making me furrow my brows. “You don’t know me. I don’t know you,” she calmly explained, her blue eyes meeting mine. “I expect a good first impression.”

I smiled slightly, realizing we were taking this do-over really fucking seriously.

I liked it.

A lot, actually.

“I’ll give you the best first impression, doc. Don’t you worry,” I murmured, watching as she opened her door and slid out of the car.

“Five minutes, Ms. Fierro,” was all she said, briefly meeting my stare with a look that made me draw in the deepest breath.

Then she gently shut the door, allowing me the view of her walking away into the bookstore.

Specifically, how her hips swayed with her long coat.

 It made the warmth in my lower stomach grow, already counting down the seconds until I could walk into that bookstore.

I didn’t wait five minutes.

I waited even longer.

Seven minutes, to be exact, so she could be a little tenser with anticipation.

The walls and shelves were made of that same mahogany wood, and the carpet was still that deep blue.

There was a different woman working compared to the suspicious redhead I met the very first time I was here.

This time, I knew where I was going, so there was no suspicion that followed me.

I grabbed the specific bookcase placed at an odd angle in the store, grasping the cold gold handle on the side of it.

I slipped past it, glancing down at the wood floors lined with cobalt carpet.

Or even the familiar historic paintings lining the hallway.

The soft jazz made me let out this weirdly relieved sigh, verging deeper into the bar that had more bookshelves lining some of the walls.

Above the bar was that neon sign that read—The Archive, in blue elegant cursive.

It wasn’t too packed for a Tuesday night.

Some people were seated at the tables, while a few people lingered at the bar.

Including Monroe.

She had her jacket folded over her chair, and her sleeves were pushed up to her elbows, revealing her thin Cartier watch.

One of her long legs was crossed over the other, and I swear it made that pencil skirt of hers cling even more to her soft thighs covered in sheer stockings.

Fuck, okay, I need to get my mind out of the gutter.

First impression.

I said I would make a good one.

I tightened my posture, walking over to the bar where she was seated.

I purposely sat one chair away from her, slowly slipping my jacket off to reveal my dress entirely.  

Yet Monroe didn’t turn her head.

No.

Her focus was on her drink, calmly tracing the rim with her two fingers.

It gave me fucking deja vu, trying my best not to stare at her too much and fuck up this entire stranger thing we have going on.

But it really did feel like the first time all over again.

Even down to the knots twisted in my stomach.

I purposely ordered a martini when the bartender came over.

It was a woman this time.

She had her hair tied back and a respectful smile on her face.

She made a really good martini and even gave me extra brine on the side.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” I suddenly spoke, finally addressing Monroe after sitting there for minutes on end.

It was the same words she had said to me.

I think, at least.

I remembered her asking if she knew me the first time we met here, so I decided to switch the narrative of it all this time around.

Monroe’s blue eyes shifted up from her glass, meeting mine with ease.

“You wish you did,” she calmly murmured, her lips twitching up just slightly.

The words sounded quoted—I think they were.

I think I said something like that?

It sounds like something I would say back to her, honestly.

“I do wish, actually,” I smoothly replied, my lips spreading into a soft smirk. “You look very lonely at this bar,” I purposely added, repeating my words from that specific night.

 She tilted her head, emphasizing the sharpness of her jawline. “I prefer solidarity,” she murmured, her blue eyes narrowing just slightly at me. “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”

“This is your bar?” I asked, trying my best to quote myself from so fucking long ago. “I didn’t know they kept tabs on who comes here.”

Monroe didn’t say anything in response to my words.

She only brought her glass to her lips, taking a long sip.

I naturally glanced down at her neck, watching as she swallowed.

“There are plenty of other seats,” she spoke as she calmly set her glass back down, her stare pinned on me. “Why did you choose to sit here?”

“You have a pretty face,” I murmured with a growing smirk, my eyes meeting hers as I brought my glass to my lips.

Her blue eyes drifted immediately, watching as I wrapped my glossy lips around the thin rim and took the longest sip just as she did.

Then—

She glanced away from me entirely, stiffly rolling her shoulders back.

“Let me join you for a drink,” I offered, going off our little script as I set my glass down.

She hummed, the soft sound vibrating her throat.

“Ask nicely,” was all she said, her blue eyes meeting mine again.

It made my lips twitch up. “May I please join you for a drink?” I whispered, my tone as soft as I ever.

“Hm?” she asked with furrowed brows, pretending not to hear a word I just said.

It made my smile grow more amused, my eyes unconsciously trailing her body.

I really fucking like this.

“I would love to join you for a drink. May I please?” I repeated myself again, my eyes drifting up to meet her stare again.

She was silent for moments on end, her stare not wavering from mine.

Then she nodded once, her expression calm, yet I couldn’t miss how her lips twitched up just barely.

I knew I didn’t hallucinate it because I know her.

I knew she was actually fucking capable of smiling—the most beautiful smile too.

“Another martini, please,” I addressed the bartender again. “And whatever she’s having too,” I said as I stood from my chair, grabbing my wallet from my purse.

“Put it on my tab,” Monroe spoke just as I slid the shiny American Express card from my wallet.

“My tab,” I emphasized as I passed it over to the bartender, looking between us with hesitation.

She didn’t know who to listen to.

“The right way,” was all I murmured under my breath, grabbing my coat and putting it over the chair right next to Monroe’s. “It goes on my tab.”

Her blue eyes were narrowed when I met her stare again, sitting down beside her with my lips still tilted up in a challenging smirk.

“Her tab,” was all Monroe said, her eyes burning into mine with a look that I recognized immediately.

I’m in for it tonight.