Missed Steps – Episode 5: The Lure
- facethyfear
- Feb 24
- 3 min read
Updated: Feb 25
A FaceThyFear Original Story
© 2025 FaceThyFear™ | www.Facethyfear.com
“If you can see it, then you can reach it.”
The glow of the dashboard clock read 5:47 PM. Zay sat in the driver’s seat of his van, watching the rain bead along the windshield. The stale scent of day-old coffee and electrical tape lingered in the air. His phone vibrated.
Another text from his ex.
“You never cared, did you?”
He sighed, rolling his shoulders, stretching out the stiffness in his back. His body was still recovering from work and the weight of sobriety.
His thumb hovered over the screen.
Block.
The second he swiped, UNKNOWN CALLER flashed across his screen.
Zay’s stomach tightened. The same unknown number from before.
He ignored it.
A deep breath.
A sip of sparkling water.
His phone buzzed again—his work phone this time.
It was his boss.
The Job – A Bad Feeling
“Got a quick one for you,” his boss said. “Customer requested you specifically.”
Zay sat up, instantly on edge. “Requested me?”
“Yeah, says she heard about your work.”
Zay frowned. He didn’t do side jobs. He only worked through the company.
“It’s an older house, nothing crazy,” his boss continued. “Just a few outlets in the back room not working.”
Zay rubbed his jaw, exhaling through his nose. Something about it felt off. Still, work was work.
“On my way.”
The House – Too Perfect
The house sat just outside the city—a classic, two-story craftsman with a porch swing that barely swayed in the thick summer air. The rain had stopped, leaving the sky a dull gray, the pavement dark with puddles.
Zay pulled into the driveway, shutting off the engine. His gut twisted.
The front door opened before he could even grab his tool bag.
It was her.
The woman from the bar.
She smiled. “Told them I wanted the best.”
Something in her voice was smooth, too smooth. Zay forced a nod, keeping his expression unreadable.
The Back Room – A Setup?
She led him through the house, the air inside thick with sandalwood incense and something sweeter underneath. Dim lighting. A soft hum of music playing from a record player in the next room.
It felt staged.
“Back here,” she said, leading him down a hallway.
Zay dropped to a knee, pulling a tester from his tool bag. As an electrician, he knew one thing immediately.
Nothing was wrong.
The outlets weren’t burnt, tripped, or dead. Everything was fine.
Still, he went through the motions, double-checking to be sure.
That’s when he noticed her watching him.
He turned around.
She was holding something.
A small book.
The White Chip
It took Zay a second to register the AA and NA logos on the covers.
She was dressed differently now—less bar-girl, more deliberate. Hair loose, glasses on, fitted top and ripped jeans. Like she was playing a role.
“I think I lost my white chip,” she said.
Zay tensed. The words hit different.
A white chip meant she was new to this. First thirty days, first struggle. Or was it all a game?
She sat on the arm of the couch, crossing her legs. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
Zay exhaled, standing up. “You don’t have to.”
She studied him. “What saved you?”
The Confession – A Dangerous Bond
Zay ran a hand through his hair. He didn’t talk about this to strangers.
But something in her expression pulled the words from him.
“Boca Recovery. Then Savannah.”
She blinked. “Florida?”
He nodded. “Didn’t finish. Insurance ran out.” His voice was flat. “Two inpatient, one outpatient. But I stayed clean.”
She tilted her head. “Cocaine?”
Zay’s jaw clenched. “Among other things.”
She smiled like she knew something.
The Warning
Her phone buzzed.
She glanced at it—and her whole demeanor shifted.
Zay caught the name on the screen. A man’s name. A threat in the text.
She swallowed hard. “He’s coming over.”
Zay stiffened. “Then I should go.”
She grabbed his wrist. “Please don’t.”
The Cliffhanger – The Wrong Place at the Wrong Time
A car pulled up outside.
Deep, rumbling engine. Black paint slick from the rain.
Zay’s gut screamed at him.
He turned toward the door.
Before he could move—
The front door burst open.
Heavy footsteps.
A voice—deep, rough, furious.
“Who the f*ck is in my house?”
Zay looked at the woman.
She was terrified.
But something in her eyes said she planned this.
End of Episode 5.
FaceThyFear Official Branding
© 2025 FaceThyFear™ | www.Facethyfear.com
“If you can see it, then you can reach it.”
Disclaimer: Missed Steps is a work of fiction exploring recovery, addiction, and psychological tension. The characters and events are fictional, inspired by real-life struggles but not based on specific individuals. This story is meant to highlight the internal battles of sobriety and the fine line between past and present.
Comments