Page 41 of Masked Mayhem

“No,” I say quickly, recalling the countless times I’ve tried to get help before. “They’re not going to take me seriously. They didn’t before.”

“Then we do it our fucking way,” Havoc replies, determination igniting in his eyes. “We’re not waiting for the police to make this shit right. We’ll figure this out ourselves.”

The tenacity in his tone revitalizes me, fueling a spark of hope that reminds me I’m not as alone as I believed. Crow begins to pace, his mind clearly racing as he devises a plan.

“We need to monitor the area around your apartment. If he’s watching you, we’ll catch him in the act. Lux can help; he has contacts who are good at this.”

“They already are, Boston told me. But what about here?” I gulp, my heart pounding in my chest. “What if he knows I’m here?”

“Then we’ll keep you distracted until we set up a strategy,” Havoc assures me, his voice steady. “You’re one of us now, and that means we fight together—not alone.”

My heart swells at his words, wrapping me in a blanket of belonging. I had forgotten what it felt like to stand united against my fears, to have someone fighting in my corner instead of fighting me. And despite the dark circumstances that brought us together, I find a new, unlikely solidarity forming.

“Okay, I’m in,” I finally respond, resolve filling my voice. “What’s our first step?”

Crow stops pacing, his usual exuberance replaced by fierce concentration. “You need to ditch that fucking phone; he probably has it bugged and is tracking you with it. For now, sit with Havoc and eat your brownie; it'll calm you down and put your mind at ease."

He snatches my phone out of my hand and breaks open the back to get the SIM card out, walking into the living room to toss all the broken pieces into the fire beside the battery.

The flames lick hungrily at the remnants of my phone, a finality to each crackling sound echoing through the room as if severing the last advantageous connection to my stalker, an odd mix of anxiety and relief washing over me. With the phone gone, I feel both liberated and vulnerable, the reality of my situation settling like a weight on my chest.

“Now what?” I ask, taking a deep breath to steady myself as Crow returns to my side.

The warmth of his body against mine feels grounding against the turmoil swirling outside, echoing a similar tumult in my mind.

“Now we eat,” he says, nudging a plate of brownies in front of me, the aroma still deliciously enticing, despite the grim circumstances dragging us deeper into uncertainty. “And think. You need to gather your strength for what’s ahead. Believing in a tangible plan is what we need—also, these brownies will help with the anxiety,” he grins, his usual zest for life returning as he chews.

I take a tentative piece, the chocolate melting decadently on my tongue as my nerves slowly start to settle. The bittersweet flavor reminds me of the fight we’re about to embark on; it’s a reminder of the sweet moments amid the bitterness of our reality.

“So, what do we know?” Havoc prompts, his voice low and commanding. “What are his patterns?”

“I don’t know,” I begin, licking the crumbs that linger on my fingers. “He’s always been random, but he definitely knew my schedule when I was at my apartment. It’s like he was waiting for me to let my guard down…” I trail off, the memory of his watchful gaze sending a chill racing down my spine.

“All the more reason to switch up your routine. No more predictable patterns. We’ll stay close, and Crow and I will take shifts monitoring the perimeter, plus Lux will have eyes on your apartment,” Havoc suggests, leaning closer, radiating authority and confidence. “And when we can, we’ll search for any vulnerabilities around your area that could help us gauge if he’s around.”

“What if he’s already here?” My voice wobbles slightly, the weight of the implication crashing over me. “What if he’s watching us right now?”

“Then let him fucking watch,” Havoc growls, the fire in his voice igniting a flicker of defiance in me. “The more he tries to intimidate you, the more we plot. He doesn’t know the shitstorm he’s about to face. You’ve got all of Masked Mayhem behind you.”

Encouraged by his conviction, I nod, feeling a rising sense of courage swelling with each shared promise. “Okay, I can do this. I’ll change my routine; I can be the decoy.”

“Decoy?” Crow asks, eyes widening in hesitation.

“Yeah, I mean, I’ll lure him out. If he thinks I’m isolated. I can still go out, right?”

“No,” Havoc responds with authority, silencing the room. “You won’t be bait. That’s too fucking risky. It puts you directly in harm’s way.”

“I need a distraction too,” I contest lightly, wanting to assert some control over the plans being formed, still wary of being kept in a bubble under their protection. After all, I’m not fucking helpless.

“Fine,” Crow interjects, his brows knotted in thought. “But we won’t let you out of our sight. If there’s a chance to draw him out, we’ll come up with a safe plan. One that ensures you’re not alone or vulnerable.”

“Maybe we could work together to find a way to draw him out without putting you in danger,” Havoc says slowly, his eyes narrowing in concentration. “A fake number, something that we can trace, something along those lines. He’s clearly fixated on you, so we could use that to our advantage.”

“Yes,” I say excitedly, hope flaring. “It could work. Just long enough to get him to show himself.”

“Okay, good. I also don't think it's beneficial for us to stay here if he knows you're here. We're sitting ducks, and I'd rather have King and the others to help us out if we need it.” Havoc moves to retrieve his phone and a burner from the other room, its screen flickering to life under the dim light.

As they work through the intricacies of the fake account, I feel a sense of unity settle over us—a shared determination, a promise to reclaim my life from the shadowy figure that had disturbed it.

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