35
THEA
Damian sits at his computer. He’s pulling up files and clicking something open. Standing next to him, I watch as he hits the play button on a video, taking up most of the screen.
I immediately recognize the waiting area of the studio. Nothing happens and I wonder if the video’s frozen. Then, I see it. Someone’s standing in front of the doors—unlocking them. But how? Whoever it is has a key.
The intruder’s dressed head to toe in dark clothes. He’s wearing a hoodie, gloves, and even a face mask.
I watched as he circles around the front desk and taps away on the tablet on the desk. Deep down, I want to laugh at his stupidity. Any changes he makes won’t affect my secret appointment calendar. Jokes on him. I hardly have any bookings.
I’ve made his work quick. The intruder then shoves his hand into this pocket and digs around. Pulling something small out, he sets it on the counter.
He keeps his head down. However, he then does something that chills me to the bone. His hands raise up and I watch as he gives the camera his middle fingers before walking out—locking up after he leaves, like he cares about the place.
“Rewind it,” I demand. Damian does. “Stop. Right there.” He pauses it. Staring at the design on the back of the hoodie the man’s wearing, I recognize it. I’ve seen it a hundred times. It’s Gavin’s.
Damian glances up at me. “What is it?”
“That’s Gavin’s hoodie.” How did he get a key? Shit, does he have a key to my apartment…my truck…their house… Is that how his number keeps getting unblocked? No. No, that’s too crazy. There’s no way he’s getting into their house undetected. There’s no way. Damian has cameras. I’ve seen them out front, mounted up high and discreet, yet still noticeable.
But what if he doesn’t check them regularly? The idea of being caught on camera should’ve deterred Gavin.
He knew about it and still broke into my studio. Why wouldn’t he come here too? I feel violated. As much as this video should comfort me because there’s proof that someone was sabotaging my bookings, it doesn’t show Gavin’s face. What am I supposed to do with this?
And then something strikes me. The thing he put on the counter. “Shit.”
I run from Damian’s room back to the dining room, dumping my satchel out on the table. A pen bounces and then rolls to the floor. Chapstick goes flying somewhere into the kitchen. My keys clank jarringly against the wood. There’s a dull thunk and my fingers wrap around the little black box. The same one I found earlier today when I stopped by the studio.
“What’s that?” Damian comes over to inspect it. Metal prongs stick out from one end and there are white etchings on most of the sides of the box.
“I don’t know. I found it at the front desk today. Gavin left it on purpose. He wanted me to find it.” The same numbness I felt after my landlord sent the picture of that note ebbs in.
Damian heads back to his room. I mindlessly follow. Could Gavin be this obsessed? Of course he is. Who else would go through this much trouble? Still, it doesn’t seem real.
He clacks on the keys furiously. “Thea…why was your truck in the shop?”
I try to think back to what Cole told me. “Um, a relay or a starter, I’m not sure.” I look at the screen. He’s typed the numbers from the box into the search bar. I see the words starter relay. “That’s it, the starter relay was remov…”
“What the fuck?” Damian mutters. “He’s messing with you. Gavin knew you’d recognize the hoodie, and he’s admitting to tampering with your truck with this.” He runs his hands through his perfect hair.
My feet drag me over to the small sofa in front of the TV. I sit, trying to process this information. My brain won’t let me. There’s a wall that simply won’t connect Gavin’s actions to the depth of emotions I should be feeling. It all feels watered down. I should be screaming, crying, shaking. Anything other than this…I’m hollow.
My only priority is telling Cassie. Keeping all of this from her isn’t an option anymore. I don’t know how far he’ll go and she needs to be on alert.
Damian sits next to me. Our earlier disagreement seems trivial now. I don’t pull away when he puts a hand on my back. “I’m going to take care of this, okay? I won’t let him hurt you.”
The words sound silly. I don’t think anyone can keep Gavin from hurting me at this point. He’s all around me, yet always just a step out of sight. My invisible tormentor.
“Thank you,” I mumble as I get up to leave.
Damian jumps up. “Hey, where are you going?”
“I’ve got to talk to Cass. She needs to know about all of this. We have to change the locks. Can you send me that footage?” I don’t stop walking as I ask him.
Damian catches up and grabs me by the arm, stopping me in my tracks. “No. I’m going to get a hold of this situation. You’re staying here where I know you’re safe.”
I recoil at his orders. Then, I want to laugh. Safe? If he only fucking knew. I’m not safe here. I’m not safe anywhere.
“No. I’m going to tell my best friend that there’s an unhinged man who’s been breaking into our studio. I’m leaving.”
Damian turns me to fully face him. Anger burns in those icy eyes. “Thea, this isn’t up for discussion.” His cheeks are flushed. I bet mine are too. “If you leave, there will be consequences. Go work on editing. Take a bath. Eat something. Call Cassie. I don’t give a damn what it is as long as you’re in this house. Stay.”
My teeth grind together. Stay? I’m not a dog. Where there’s nothing but hollowness, Damian manages to pull out my rage, untamed by any other reasonable emotion.
“Make me,” I seethe.
Suddenly, Damian’s pushing me into the wall and his hand is at my throat. Unlike last time, he isn’t gentle. Under any other circumstances, I might tremble or fear him. Right now, all I feel is heat and power and…desire. Fuck, I want him.
Damian’s fingers push just enough into the sides of my throat to hurt a little—a warning. My lids feel heavy and my lips part. I don’t try to hide that this is turning me on. I’m not sure why it does. This should scare me. Yet strangely, I trust him. I know Damian would never actually harm me.
“Those are dangerous words, princess. You’ve been testing my patience a lot lately. Are you looking for punishment?” His head tilts as he tries to figure me out.
Momentarily, I think about lying or not saying anything at all. But that won’t help me. I realize Damian can give me something I need. And not in the form of money or property.
“I want to feel like I’m not being pulled under, barely able to keep my head above water. I need to not feel empty. Make me feel something real…raw.” I’m practically begging.
For days, I’ve been shifting between numbness and drowning. Something else would be nice. I’ll take anything else.
Damian’s brows raise in surprise, but it’s quickly chased away.
My gaze drops to the ink on the hand that’s gripping me. His fingers are shaded in a way that gives a skeletal illusion. I admire the push of his veins against his skin. All I need is for him to give in, to kiss me. I want Damian to let go of all that irritating control.
He leans in close, so close that our lips nearly touch. The air between us feels charged with anticipation. I let out a soft whimper from both need and the increasing pressure around my neck.
“I haven’t decided if you’re ready for what I want to give you.” I close my eyes. I could cry at his denial of the one thing that might help me. His mouth brushes across my jaw until his breath tickles the shell of my ear. “But know this, princess, I do want to give it to you.”
Damian pulls away, dropping his hand. The numbness creeps back in. I turn and walk away, feeling cold and empty.
Coward.
What is he going to do? Chain me to the floor?
I grab my satchel, stuffing all of my things back inside. For a moment, I wonder if he’s crazy enough to keep me here by any means. Just in case, I close the front door quietly. Glancing up at the camera, I’m curious if he’s watching me. No, I don’t think he pays that much attention to it. Otherwise, he would’ve seen my ex coming in and out of the house.
Still pissed about Damian holding out on me, I mimic Gavin and throw a middle finger up to the camera.
Starting my truck, I quickly speed down the driveway towards the studio to talk to Cassie.
I slow as I approach the side of the building, but don’t see her car. Calling her is out of the question. She’ll know something’s up and I’ll chicken out. I drive to the only other place she might be.
Cassie’s house comes into view. I pull in next to her Lexus. I’ve rushed here and haven’t thought about what to say, besides the obvious. How much do I tell her? How is she going to react when she finds out how much I’ve withheld?
Walking up to her door, I realize this is a bad idea.
I’m debating on getting back into my truck when Cassie’s face appears. Damn doorbell camera.
“Is everything okay?” She’s staring at me with concern in her eyes. I don’t show up at her house unannounced. I hate I can’t tell her yes.
“Can I come in? I need to talk to you.” She opens the door all the way, so I can come in. I head to the living room.
Nothing’s changed much since I moved out. Her style is minimalistic, with shades of white and tan everywhere. Everything is in its proper place—not a speck of dust to be seen. It looks like a show home. That had been a point of contention when I lived here.
I respected her and Anthony’s need for organization, but my room slowly became a little messier than what Cass prefers.
At first, it didn’t seem to bother her much, she’d make off handed comments. Then it became a daily routine of her nudging me to make my room look as if no one used it. We were both relieved when I moved out.
I sit on her sofa and she offers me a drink. I accept, only because I need a few more moments. Although what’s happening isn’t directly my fault, I can already feel the judgment. The years of her telling me to leave Gavin. Lectures about him not deserving me. It’s all piled up between us in an unsaid “I told you so”.
On the wall, large canvases of Cassie and Anthony hang on the walls. Poses of them kissing, hugging, and laughing. Her perfect life, where nothing goes wrong.
I’m jealous.
When she brings me a glass of water and sits down across from me expectantly, I spill. There’s no point in dancing around the truth. “Someone broke into the studio last night.” I let that first part sink in, knowing she’ll need a minute to panic. “Damian installed security cameras in the waiting area after my bookings started getting screwed up. He checked the software and saw that someone was messing with them, but we weren’t entirely sure who.”
Cass abruptly holds up a hand. “Wait. You installed cameras and didn’t tell me?” The question throws me for a loop. I realize she probably feels like her privacy’s been invaded, similar to how Gavin invaded mine. I hadn’t thought to mention it and in all honesty, after they were installed, I’d forgotten about them until today.
“Oh, Cassie, I’m sorry. I should have told you. It’s just been…there’s a lot I haven’t told—”
She interrupts me and stands. “Thea, I don’t even know what to say anymore. It’s like you’ve gone off the rails. You’re unfocused, you have no drive to make this business a success, you’re keeping things from me, you’re too caught up in these guys…which is a whole other tangent I could go on.” Each accusation pierces me, driving deep, then twisting painfully.
“That’s what I’m trying to say. These things aren’t my fault. Gavin—”
Cassie looks at me with hardened eyes. “Gavin’s been gone since that day at Sutton’s bookstore.” Well, I can’t fault her for believing that. My eyes fall to the floor.
“He didn’t leave. Gavin’s still in Willow Creek. He was at the studio last night, breaking in.” I glance up and find her face twisted in horror. “Cass, I need to tell you something, but please sit down.” The pleading in my eyes must convince her because she takes a seat back on the sofa.
I take a deep breath and confess all the things I’ve hidden. I tell her about the first night he put his hands on me and then again at the bookstore, having to hide my bruised wrist. My insistence on wearing long sleeves dawns on her. I tell her about my truck trouble and the starter relay. And the night of the carnival. The note in my truck and my sink, the reason for the clog. I show her the picture Kenneth sent me.
Finally, I pull up the video footage that Damian sent me of the break in. It came through right as I pulled up. He must think I’m still at the house.
While we can’t see his face, I show her the starter relay he left behind as a fuck you.
When she finally speaks, it’s with an eerie calmness. “We need to file a police report and change the locks. How he got a key…” She visibly shudders at the possibilities.
Cassie’s lost in thought for a few moments before she tilts her head and stares at me, suspicion knitting her brows. “We don’t know if Gavin’s the one doing these things.”
The statement hits me strangely, although I don’t know why. “Well, I mean, technically no. We can’t see his face, but looking at all the other evidence--”
“What evidence, Thea?” Her voice is full of doubt.
“The notes, my truck, him basically stalking me.” I’m confused at her disbelief. It all points to Gavin. “The texts,” I add. Her brows raise in expectation. “Fuck, I deleted the texts.”
Sucking in a breath, she says, “The only proof you have that this is Gavin is the few times that he showed up where you were. You didn’t see him do any of the other stuff. You didn’t report any of it, none of it was fingerprinted or documented by the police. Are you even sure it was his handwriting?”
Her words tumble over and over in my mind. To me, it all makes sense that these things would be at the hands of my crazed ex. But she’s right. I’ve only seen him three times—the restaurant, the bookstore, and the carnival. I don’t have proof.
I look down at my phone, unlocking it to see the picture of the note again. Stop fucking around, Thea. I can’t tell if it’s his writing, it’s written sloppily, almost as if he used his opposite hand to write it.
“Who else would do this? These attacks are personal.”
Cassie doesn’t skip a beat. “There are four names that come to mind.” I don’t need to ask who. Sutton. Wesley. Damian. And Cole. She must be losing her mind.
“You’re joking, right?” I reply flatly.
Her brows raise and her lips purse. “Things started going downhill after you met Cole.”
I can’t help the laugh that shoots from my mouth. “If anything, they’ve been trying to put everything back together every time Gavin’s caused me problems.” She rolls her eyes. Now I’m angry. “So your grand theory is that these four guys are purposely wrecking havoc on my life to what…come to my rescue? To create some sort of Stockholm Syndrome?” I’m standing by the time I finish.
“They’re a bunch of rich guys who live together and probably have nothing better to do than mess with some broken chick who’s new in town.” I’m not a violent person, however, it takes all of my self control not to smack her in the face. The urge alone surprises me. This isn’t me. This isn’t us. But I’m done worrying about disappointing Cassie. I’m done trying to live up to her standards, her perfection, her dream.
I won’t be silent anymore.
“You’ve crossed a line. They’ve done nothing but care for me…love me,” I hesitate at saying the last part, although it’s necessary for her to know that this isn’t some silly fling or adventurous romp. “I won’t tolerate you talking about them like that.”
Grabbing my satchel, I head to the door. I need some distance from her. I add, “I’ll take care of the police report. You can change the locks.”
I don’t say goodbye. I don’t even glance back at her when I walk out of her house. Part of me wonders if our friendship can handle this, me standing up for myself. My relationship with Gavin hadn’t survived. I’m sure my relationship with my parents is on its last thread. Cassie is the last one left—she’s the strongest person I know, but only because I let her overpower me.
I’ve let everyone dominate me with their needs, preferences, opinions, and dreams. Not anymore.
The new Thea takes what she wants. She says what she wants. She gets what she wants. No apologies. Well, that’s the plan anyway.