Wrong Number

"No, no, fuck this, no!" I stood to my feet immediately. How on earth could I have missed it? Something felt odd texting the photos, how on earth did I go to Chad's thread instead of Tom's?

I picked my phone up to see what could have caused the misleading. I slapped my forehead when I realized how. Chad had texted me a message that conveyed a reminder to check my e-mail so I could edit the attachment he had sent.

This was the end. I knew I had to go check my closet to find my apron so I could get it dry cleaned for pizza city. I was about to toss my phone out of my hands when all of a sudden, something fascinating caught my eyes. The message had been delivered but it had not yet been seen by Chad. He must have put his phone away right after texting me and that meant there was still a chance to stop him from viewing a picture with such content, which could and would cost me my job.

It was twenty minutes after midnight but still I brought my phone out to dial Tom. About a billion messages that required confirmation on whether or not I had changed my mind and decision filled my notifications bar. This wasn't the time to regret stuff.

As expected he didn't answer the phone. A panicked me dropped the phone and decided that, pacing around the room would offer me a solution.

Deciding I had no way to get myself out of this with assistance from a third party, I concluded that I would be going to Chad Bush's house and accessing his phone, to get rid of the photo before he woke up.

*

I hopped on my old bike, who knew it would ever come in handy in its existence? I had on my pyjamas and I couldn't care less. After securing that my house was locked and that my key was safe in my pyjamas pocket, I got ready to leave.

If anyone had expected anything, it was that I had no car. I barely made enough to keep up with paying my bills and getting a car was definitely not on the list of fun things to do.

Chad's house was quite a distance from mine and if I could pedal fast enough, I would get there in an hour. That meant that by two in the morning, I would be at my boss's house, with barely any hope that he had not seen my stupidity endorsed act.

To tell the world of my devastation would be an under rate of how I truly felt.

but then, I would rather lose my job trying to save it than sit back and

*

wrong. Chad bush was clearly royalty beyond expectations. He lived in some fucking mansion. I gaped at

my bike, feeling exhausted and out of breathe. I had never been at Chad's. I only knew where he lived because I

barely figuratively. I had not thought things through. If there was any fire hot enough to burn my job, this was it. For one, Chad was an influential man and

flood the entire place. Although, from my view, the mansion was dimly lit with night lights and it seemed empty. That gave me another sense

without being noticed. I wasn't completely unprepared for any sort of stoppage.

any more time to think, I pulled my bike to a corner and rested it against a wall.

I was not a tall not short person and I had no idea what heights were but that was definitely one long gate. I placed my hand akimbo and

was fancy enough but it was made of horizontal metals that connected each vertical row to the other. I placed my feet on the first steps and my hands on the steps I could attain in my fully stretched size and began the climbing

my limbs. "Don't look down Nikki, don't look down." I pleased with myself but knowing the stubborn bitch that I was, it was almost as if my subconscious had responded, 'yeah

the floor and I let a loud shriek out. On their accord, my limbs left the gate and I was soon crashing to the ground. It was a fall I doubted I would survive but I hit the ground with my butt. I didn't know the human body but I was sure that whatever bones were in that region had been flattened further, worsening my

stood to my feet, ignoring the pains in my glutes, letting my mission

praises to the sound of the stranger, me. Following their barking alert was the flashlights that filled the environment. I was wrong with the 'no security'

trees that lined what seemed to be a road that led to the main house. I gulped and rendered

linear pattern that served decorative purposes, and headed for the side of the

few men walked towards the gate in scrutiny but I managed

*

house. I had only attempted what seemed to be luck but the door was unlocked. The only reasonable explanation was that Chad kept it open in case the security had to get him out in emergency situations but other than