You hit it and waited for the familiar ping of an outgoing call. It didn’t happen, instead the automated message explained that the number did not e...ist.You gritted your teeth, wracking your brain for ways to explain everything that had transpired. How the hell were you here, now, in this body? Why did no traces of David Wilcox seem to exist? You began to pace around the small bedroom. You looked down at the phone, your fingers moved, as if on their own accord, typing in the number. You hit. She saw him as soon as he entered and her body tensed. She was not in full armor, wearing only her chain mail hauberk and coif, the hood hanging on her back. Over it all, at least partially hiding it, was her burgundy coat with silver leaf; the colors of the Queen’s Knights. Her hand drifted back to the hilt of her sword lying against the wall and she untied it with her fingertips.“Honor Gillen,” the man said, as he walked to her table. He was an older man, late thirties to early forties or. A few times, she had to stop herself when her thighs quivered at a cat call. That kind of thing used to always fill her with either dread or anger. Fight or flight. But now both options were being replaced with desire. It wasn’t her, she knew it. She wondered what they would do if she would reply, “Yeah, baby, I’d love a good time.”And she’d be guaranteed to have a good time. Just picturing it, she could feel that delicious itch building up inside. It wasn’t fair, how was she supposed to think. "Ral, you don't have a phone. How's anyone supposed to call?" Jeri asked.Renée flipped open her phone and started dialing a number. "I'm calling the phone company to get things started. I'll get you a phone on my plan."While she made the call I asked Jeri, "How about we take your phone and Renée leaves hers with Mandy. Everyone knows to call her if they need to get in touch with me. Mandy can field those calls and any really important ones, she can pass on to us." Jeri nodded and handed me her.
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