Unsent Texts Novels & Stories

I took a deep breath and opened the message thread again. The timestamp still read March 3, 2030. Five years. Was this really a message sent from five years later? And the sender was still our company's cold, untouchable CEO, Veronica Starling? Could my phone be broken? I immediately restarted it. After it powered back on, another message came through from her. "Dear hubby, why are you not replying to me…" I looked at the message. Then I looked at the time again. It still showed March 3, 2030.

I can only assume I cannot communicate by our mind-link because I do not have Max back at full capacity. I lean back and give a gesture of getting a pen and paper so I can communicate with her. It will be frustrating but better than nothing, I consider. Elizabeth leaves the room and I then realize Stan and Kinsley are standing there looking anxious. I know Stan is trying to mind-link with me. I give my head a brief shake and he realizes I cannot.

That should be his motto. I'm about to leave a very angry voicemail when my phone buzzes in my hand. A text. Finally. Marcus: Can't make it. Swamped with paperwork. Sending someone. I stare at the screen. Sending someone? Who the fuck is this someone? I type back fast. Me: What do you mean someone? Who? No response. Me: Marcus. Nothing. Me: You cannot be serious right now. The little gray bubble with the clock appears next to my message. Sent. Not read. He probably tossed his phone in his bag and forgot about me.

— lazy, arrogant, exactly what I was counting on. I didn’t hesitate. I typed my name. “Vale, Remy.” Hit enter. The screen loaded slower than I wanted. Every second felt like a bullet chamber spinning. Then it came up. Contract #STL-8891 Surrogate: Vale, Remy (DOB: 4/12/2005) Donor: Anonymous (Sterling Trust) Gestation: Twin Status: ACTIVE Payment 1: $600,000 – PAID Payment 2: $600,000 – ON HOLD

Please let that have been a dream. Slowly — cautiously — she reached for her phone. Her fingers hovered above the screen. If the call log wasn’t there, she would never drink again. She unlocked it. Recent Calls. Unknown Number. 12 minutes. Her heart started beating louder. She tapped it, half expecting more. There wasn’t. No follow-up call. No messages. No missed attempts. Nothing. The absence sat heavier than anything else could have. If he was weird, wouldn’t he have texted? If he was curious, wouldn’t he have tried again?

Didn't want to open it but the notification got annoying and I wanted to snooze it only to tap on the messages from unknown. "What tye fu@k?" ... TBC

I felt my blood boil at the messages I had just read, especially the one about my mother, and I clenched my fists and cursed. Mark: I want an increase by 50 million, or the press gets some free juicy gossip from me. Unknown: 50 million dollars is unreasonable and absurd Mark. No response from Mark. Unknown: I can do 30 million. Still nothing from Mark. Unknown: Okay fine. Meet me at my office in an hour. There was still no reply from Mark. Unknown: I waited four hours with no show from you. Where the fuck are you!? Mark never responded. A series of angry texts like that last one from the other end continued until they eventually stopped. I scrolled through the phone until every app was thoro

It was a text from an unsaved contact. “Hi, Jay. It's me, Smart. I got your number from Richard. I apologize for not seeking your permission before sending the message. I understand if you're angry with me. If you're not, can I call you? There's something urgent I need to discuss with you. Please, I need your help. You're the only one I can think of at the moment.” I frowned at the text. Smart?

Tapping on the first notification, Snarlchat opens and I smile as I see his first message. Uriel: Hey werebear. Uriel: That was my stupid way of trying to make you remember me. Uriel: Why can’t I unsend messages here? Uriel: You would think Snarlchat would understand that sometimes, we need to texts. Uriel: Can I get my messages to disappear after I send them like the Snarls do? Uriel: Let me try again. Uriel: Hey! I was thinking about you. Uriel: LAME. That’s how that sounded. Let me try one more time.

Did she just call me their Luna? A sick feeling twisted in my stomach. No. That couldn’t be right. I wasn’t one of them. I wasn’t meant to be here. I swallowed hard, my throat dry and raw. “I’m not your Luna,” I rasped, forcing the words out. The old woman’s sharp gaze flicked over me with something between pity and disapproval. “That’s not for you to decide, child.” Her words sent a cold shiver down my spine. Before I could protest again, she sighed and moved toward a side door, pushing it open. “The bath is warm. You stink of sweat and filth. Wash yourself before the Alpha returns.”