Page 103 of The Pact

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.

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