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I stand there, staring at the wood like if I just wait long enough, it’ll open again.

But it doesn’t.

And I’m about to fucking rage.

Chapter 31

My phone won’t shut up. It’s been buzzing since seven this morning, long after Eli left. I buried myself in my sheets, pretended I didn’t hear the first ping, or the second, or the sixth. But now it’s vibrating across my nightstand like it has something important to say.

I groan, drag the pillow off my face, and finally reach for it.

My finger hovers over the screen. I’m ready to block Caleb. That has to be him. The texts, the missed calls, the drama. Probably trying to get in a last word after last night. After I told him to stay away. Maybe he’s decided he’s not done playing the victim. Whatever. I’m not in the mood.

I swipe to unlock, preparing for a barrage of pathetic apologies.

But that’s not what I find.

My breath catches.

There’s an email. No subject. Just an anonymous address. I frown and tap it open.

Attached is a screenshot.

Then another.

Then a short video clip.

My blood runs hot and cold all at once. The clip’s less than ten seconds, blurry at first, until it zooms in.

It’s me.

Me in bed.

Me with Eli.

The sheet is barely covering anything. His hand is on my hip. My lips are parted. It cuts before it gets worse. But it’s enough.

Enough to make my fingers go numb.

There are more screenshots. Text threads. Cropped photos. Pixelated, but damning. Some of them aren’t even from my phone. The angles, the timestamps. These were taken from a distance. Monitored. Saved.

My entire chest tightens.

Another message blinks in, same sender.

This isn’t even the worst of it. Forwarded to Coach Jacobs in 12 hours unless you play nice. Consider this a teaser. A souvenir. A warning.

I don’t breathe. I just stare. My name feels foreign in my head. My skin crawls. My heart kicks once, then goes wild. My thumb shakes as I scroll, rereading the words like they might rearrange into something else.

Caleb.

It has to be him.

He threatened to ruin me before. I told him it was over, and he’s making sure I regret it. That I didn’t know what kind of mess I was walking into. That he always ties up loose ends.

This is what he meant.

I don’t think. I hit call.