My life shouldn’t be this insane. I don’t know what I did to deserve it all but if I could repent, I would. I take a deep breath and realize he hasn’t said a word but I can hear him moving around whatever room he’s in.
“I’ll be there in less than ten. Stay on the line with me till then.”
“I don’t have to—”
“Just humor me. Please?” Something in the way he says please makes me relent. I put the call on speakerphone and place it on the counter before going around and closing all the blinds and curtains. My skin crawls at the thought that someone has been watching me inside my house. It was bad enough when the last set arrived and they were me out and about, but I’m used to that, because, well, paparazzi. This is a little different.
I’ve dealt with a fully fledged stalker once before, and that’s all I can assume this is. Except last time… last time I had round-the-clock security. Mac and Panda barely left my side. My dad might’ve wanted me to be capable and independent, but he also made sure I was safe… most of the time anyway. Last time, my dad and Mac kept most of it from me—which still pisses me off but I can’t change the past—and it wasn’t until I was taken that I had any idea there was something wrong.
The purr of the Lamborghini sounds down the line, and I let out a small breath of relief. I should not be relieved that he’s on his way here, not after everything, but better the devil you know and all that.
“I texted the others. Everyone’s on the way.” Finley’s voice is tight, and I let out a shriek when there’s a bang on the back door. I spin to find Lincoln and East trying to get in the back door.
“What’s wrong?” Finley's voice is urgent, and it takes me a second to speak as I try to calm my racing heart.
“Lincoln and East are here. They scared the shit out of me.”
I move to let them in. I forgot I’d moved the spare key to the back door, but all things considered, it seems to be a good thing that I did. The door opens just as Finley responds.
“Okay, I’ll hang up since they’re there. I’ll be two minutes. Open the gates for me.”
I end the call and open the gates from the app on my phone. East locks the door once he’s in and disables the beeping alarm. I really need to work out just how many people have the code to that freaking thing. That, or figure out how to change them myself since these four all seem to have it.
Lincoln doesn’t say a word as he moves to the counter and starts going through the pictures. East moves toward me, wrapping me up in his arms, and I sink into him. He’s been one of the few shining lights I’ve had since I got back, so I take his offered comfort. “Are you okay?” he murmurs, squeezing me tighter before letting go.
“Not really. It’s been a long few days, but I’ll survive,” I say, shrugging, just as the front door opens and slams closed. Seconds later, Finley and Maverick are in the kitchen with us.
Mav glances at me, like he’s trying to work out just how unstable I am, before moving toward the counter with Lincoln. Finley assesses me quietly too, before stepping toward me. “We should reset the alarm, just in case. You secure the gates, and I’ll do the house alarm.”
I nod and do as he says, wishing my brain would function properly for a minute. That should have been a no-brainer. I look down at my phone and bring up the app to make sure the gate is locked and closed.
“Is this everything?” Lincoln asks, his voice harsh. My head snaps up to look at him and I find his face practically blank. Just his usual cold stare looking back at me. I nod, frozen on the inside from his chilly demeanor. It’s the only thing that keeps my anger toward his dickhead behaviour in check.
Finley glares at him before ushering me onto a stool at the counter. He and East sit on either side of me, as if protecting me. Which is the funniest thing considering the hurt Finley has helped to cause the last few months.
“Yeah, that’s everything that was in the envelope.” I sigh, and sag a little. This is all too much. I don’t understand any of it. I’m not usually the type to tuck tail and run—at least I never used to be, I used to face my shit head on—but that’s all I want to do right now. Just to escape the madness surrounding me. “Is this linked to the note that was on my door when we got back here Friday night?”
They all glance at one another, and that gets my back up. What the fuck?
“What note?” Maverick asks, leaning back on the far counter and folding his arms across his chest.
“The note that was on the door when Lincoln got me home from the party,” I deadpan, because what sort of question is that?
“There wasn’t any note, Octavia,” Lincoln finally says.
I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying not to be exasperated. Why would they lie about something like that? They obviously know something, and I don’t understand why they’re withholding details. Getting information from them is like trying to get blood from a fucking stone. “Enough with the gaslighting! Of course there was a note! I remember seeing it. It said I was out of time.”
“There wasn’t any note, Octavia. Maybe you dreamt it up. A lot happened that night.” Lincoln shrugs and turns his attention back to the photos.
I close my eyes, trying to tamp down the anger that rises. “I don’t know why I even bothered calling. You’re not going to help me. I’m just going to call the police. There’s nothing any of you can do. Just leave. I’ll handle this alone. Like I’ve done with everything else.”
“Octavia, don’t be so fucking ridiculous. I already have a PI looking into the last pictures you gave me, I’ll give him these too. Just leave it to us,” Lincoln chastises, and I see red.
I have had enough.
“Don’t be so ridiculous? Are you fucking kidding me? You come over here, chastise me, give me no information, and expect me to just what? Accept that shit? I don’t know who the fuck you think I am, Lincoln, but I am not that girl. I was wrong to call you guys for help. I should’ve known better. Just fucking leave. I’ll figure it all out on my own. And give me the other pictures back.” I jump down from the stool and move to the back door to emphasize my point, but none of them move.
I take a deep breath but my anger is spinning out. I am so sick and tired of them treating me like this. Helping me on Friday does not make up for everything they’ve put me through up to this point. I’m sick of being this girl, I’ve let too much slide, and I am done. Shit is going to change. Starting right the fuck now. I hit the app on my phone, disabling the alarm before ripping the door open, refusing to have them in my space any longer than they already have been. “I said get the fuck out!”