Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
LILY
I pull into the grocery store parking lot and reach for my purse, patting around for my phone. Shit. I left it on the kitchen counter after Hudson distracted me with a quickie. Well, it’s too late to go back for it now. A device free afternoon never hurt anyone.
The automatic doors whoosh open and I grab a cart, happiness buzzing around inside my chest. With Thanksgiving only four days away, the store is overly crowded.
All around me phones beep with notifications and it almost sounds like bells that accompany the happy music playing through the store’s speakers.
Normally grocery shopping is the bane of my existence, but today, I’m floating on cloud nine.
“Oh my god, are you serious?” someone whisper shouts into their phone.
“Where was it? Can you send it to me?” another lady says, speaking into her phone as she grabs a box of cereal.
It’s a fight not to roll my eyes, already knowing there must be some new rumor going around. Big Ridge and the way news travels through the gossip mill should be studied.
I take my time going up and down the aisles while I search for some treats for the guys, letting the sounds of other people’s hectic lives–phone calls, text notifications, the chirping of alerts–fade into the background. Nothing can burst this happy bubble around me.
I’m halfway through the produce section, debating between organic and regular apples, when someone clears their throat behind me. Loudly.
“Excuse me.”
I turn around to find Mrs. Utica, one of Big Ridge’s self-appointed moral police officers, staring at me.
She makes it her personal mission to tell everyone else how they should be living their life.
Her graying brown hair is pulled back in the tightest bun known to mankind and her lips are pursed like she’s been sucking on lemons for the past decade.
“Hey, Mrs. Utica. Can I help you?” I drop a bag of organic apples into my cart.
Her eyes narrow into slits. “I certainly hope you’re ashamed of yourself.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “I’m sorry?” I should have expected she’d find me eventually to scold me about my relationship.
“Don’t play dumb with me.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “You posted those vile pictures online for the whole world to see. Have you no decency? No self-respect?”
What the hell is she talking about? I blink at her, genuinely confused. “I honestly have no idea what you’re—”
“Oh, please!” She waves her hand dismissively. “The whole town is talking about it. Your poor mother would be ashamed of you if she knew what kind of behavior you’re engaging in.”
Heat floods my cheeks. How dare she bring up my mom. “I don’t know what pictures you’re referring to, but I can assure you that I haven’t posted anything inappropriate anywhere. I don’t even have my phone today.”
Shout out to my self-control for keeping the fuck you in my head and not on my lips.
She rolls her eyes so hard I’m surprised they don’t fall out of her head. “Sluts and whores, that’s what all you young women are these days. First Callie, now you. No morals, no shame.” She spins on her heel and storms off, muttering under her breath about the degradation of society.
I stand there, mouth hanging open, completely bewildered. What pictures was she talking about? Moreover, what right does she have to judge me or Callie? Maybe she needs to get laid.
“Well, that was quite the performance.”
I turn to find Maura standing a few feet away with her own shopping cart, shaking her head at Mrs. Utica’s retreating figure. Maura’s always been one of the more level-headed people in this town. Seeing her friendly face after that bizarre confrontation is like a breath of fresh air.
“Did you hear all that?” I ask, still trying to process what just happened.
Maura nods, her expression sympathetic but concerned. “Unfortunately, yes. And I know what she’s talking about.”
My mouth parts and an eyebrow inches up my forehead. “You do?”
She searches my face. “You didn’t post pictures this morning?”
“I haven’t posted pictures online in months.”
“Oh dear.” She sighs and pulls out her phone, her fingers scrolling through something. “You might want to prepare yourself for this.” She holds out her phone to me.
I take it, confusion settling in my gut like a rock. As soon as I see the screen, my blood turns to ice. What the actual fuck?
There are photos from my account posted this morning, only I didn’t take them or post them.
And yet, there they are. Photos in the highest resolution.
Me in my bathroom wrapped in nothing but a towel, reaching for my face lotion on the counter.
It looks like a selfie but that’s impossible since I didn’t take it and there are no cameras in the bathroom. Or at least, I didn’t put any there.
I swipe to the next photo and my knees almost buckle.
It’s me in my bedroom, completely naked, standing in front of my dresser as I search for an outfit.
The angle suggests someone was in my closet, or maybe .
. . outside my window? There’s a pathetic excuse of a blur over my important bits.
Every part of me is on display for the world to see.
There are more. So many more. Nothing from the last few days but there are plenty of me getting dressed or undressed over the course of several days last week.
My privacy, my body, some of my most intimate moments captured without my knowledge and plastered across my social media page.
There are a dozen shares already, hundreds of views and several comments.
The phone slips from my numb fingers but Maura catches it before it hits the floor.
“Are you okay?” Her voice sounds like it’s coming from underwater.
I shake my head, unable to form words. My mind is screaming, racing.
Fear trickles through my veins. “I . . . I have to go.” I abandon my cart right there in the middle of the produce section, walking out to my car on autopilot.
My hands are shaking so violently I barely get the key in the ignition.
The engine starts and I pull out of the parking lot, my mind reeling.
How did he do it? How did Matt get those photos?
Did he install cameras? How did he post them when he’s in jail?
Unless he did it before he was arrested.
That would explain why the photos are from last week.
There are scheduling apps . . . maybe he preplanned it before he was arrested.
The thought makes my skin crawl and my stomach lurch.
How vile of a person do you have to be to do that?
I drive toward the police station, my knuckles white as I grip the steering wheel. I’m completely terrified, but I know I have to report this.
The kitchen table is colder than usual as I trace my fingers along its edge and try to process everything that’s happened today.
The guys sit around me, their presence both comforting and overwhelming at the same time.
I’ve just finished explaining how I found out about the pictures, what happened at the police station, and now we’re all waiting for the officers to finish sweeping the house for hidden cameras.
My stomach churns thinking about someone watching us.
Watching me. According to the officers, Matt swears he didn’t do it, but who else could it be?
Who else would want to torment me like this?
It’s hard to believe he’s innocent when they already found that laptop that was used for everything else at his house.
Heavy footsteps echo down the stairs. We all look up as the officer approaches. His face is grim, and my heart sinks before he even opens his mouth.
“We found some things.” He sets a small evidence bag on the table, and I lean forward despite myself.
Inside are tiny devices that look like nothing more than screws or small electronic components. The kind of thing you’d never notice unless you knew exactly what to look for.
“Nanny cams,” Cole mutters under his breath. His jaw muscles work as he stares at the bag.
“We found a handful of them,” the officer continues. “One in the living room, one in the hallway upstairs, and three . . .” He pauses, glancing at me with sympathy. “In your bedroom and bathroom.”
The air leaves my lungs in a rush. Goddamn Matt. How dare he. Now every time I go to change I’ll be terrified there are cameras.
Hudson’s hand finds mine under the table, squeezing gently, grounding me with his touch to keep me from spiraling completely.
“We’d recommend you stay somewhere else for a few nights, just to be safe,” the officer says. “Until we can be absolutely certain we’ve found everything.”
The guys exchange glances. Guilt crashes over me like a wave. I’ve already made them leave their house once due to my drama. Now I’m supposed to ask them to do it again? No. Absolutely not.
“Was this Matt?” I ask, looking at the cop.
He has a mean poker face. “Things like this are often premeditated. It’s likely these have been installed for a while now.”
“Okay. . . with him jail, he can’t hurt us, right? I mean, as long as you think you found them all?”
He nods slowly. “We’ve done a thorough sweep. Used professional equipment. I’m confident we’ve covered everything, but—”
“Then we’re staying.” The words come out firm. “I’m not running anymore.” Besides, everything has already been put out there. There’s not much more of me that can be shared.
Gage raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” I lift my chin, trying to project confidence I don’t entirely feel. “This is our home. I won’t let him take that away from us.”
After the officers pack up their equipment and leave, the four of us stand in the entryway in heavy silence. The atmosphere is strange now, unsettling even though we know the cameras are gone.
“I’m sorry.” Cole’s voice breaks the quiet, and I turn to look at him.
“For what?”
“All of this. If we hadn’t—”
“Stop.” I reach up and press my palm against his chest. “This isn’t your fault. None of this is your fault.”
He shakes his head. “We should have protected you better.”
“You did protect me. All of you did. You’re here, aren’t you?”
Gage clears his throat. “Okay, enough of this heavy shit.” The words are something I’d expect from Cole if he weren’t busy beating himself up. Gage continues. “We need food and we need to not think about all of this for a few hours.”
“Agreed,” Hudson says, pulling out his phone. “What are we feeling? Italian? Chinese?”
“Something with dairy-free options for Lily,” Cole adds, already scrolling through delivery apps.
Here they are taking care of me again. My chest tightens with emotion I can’t quite name. There’s a deep-seated fear that I’m not worthy, but I ignore that and remind myself that I deserve men like this. I’ll do everything I can to show them how much I appreciate them.
A jagged, blinding streak of light flashes outside the kitchen window, followed by a low rumble of thunder that makes us all jump. For a moment, nobody moves. Then Cole starts laughing.
“Jesus Christ, we’re all wound tighter than a spring.”
Gage chuckles. “I think I might’ve aged ten years.”
“I knew a storm was coming,” I say, but my voice shakes slightly. Right when I thought I could rest easy, there’s a whole new reason to be on edge. Will more of Matt’s premeditated actions slowly come to light? How long will his decisions torture me?
Hudson squeezes my shoulder. “Maybe we should put on a movie. Something low stakes like comedy. Try to relax.”
“Good idea.” Cole nods. “Something stupid and funny is just my speed.”
“At least you’re self-aware,” Gage says, dodging Cole’s fist. “Hey, I’m only stating the obvious.”
“Screw you.” Cole heads into the living room, not really upset, and we all follow.
After ordering from the Italian place that has great dairy-free pasta options, Hudson finds some ridiculous comedy special on Netflix. For a few minutes, it almost works. Almost, but not quite.
Every rumble of thunder has the hairs on the back of my neck standing on edge. I don’t miss how the guys’ hands are balled into fists either. Or how every creak of the house has us glancing toward the windows or searching the shadows for attackers.
“This is ridiculous,” I mutter during a particularly loud crack of thunder that makes Gage practically jump off the couch.
“We’re all ridiculous,” Hudson agrees, but his arm tightens around me protectively.
The storm outside mirrors the chaos in my head perfectly. Dark, unpredictable, and impossible to control. But I’m safe. Protected by three men. Matt’s already in jail.
Nothing bad is going to happen.