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She pauses on the step and shakes her head before facing me. “I swear, I had no idea. I would never do that, you need to believe me. Lincoln knows me, he knows I wouldn’t do that.”

“Bull-fucking-shit. You followed his ass to Paris, he knows shit about you.” She grimaces and looks down, refusing to meet my eyes.

“That was a mistake,” she says in a low voice. “I let Felicity talk me into that and I knew I shouldn’t have. I don’t even like Lincoln like that, but Felicity wouldn’t listen.”

“And why the fuck should I believe that.”

“I get it, okay? You lump us together—everyone does. It’s my fault because I followed her for the last two years and let her turn me into something I’m not. But, Greyson.” She looks up at me with pleading eyes. “You need to see this. She’s not here and she’s supposed to be. I don’t know what she’s going to do next, but whatever it is, it’s not good.”

“Fuck,” I growl and stride toward her, following her up the stairs and into a narrow hallway leading to the bedrooms. She stops in front of the first door on the right.

“This is Felicity’s. We’ve been hanging out in the common areas or my room lately, so I haven’t seen it in a while.” She pauses and reaches for the doorknob. “While Felicity was in class, I came into her room to see if she took my sociology textbook. I swear, I texted Lincoln as soon as I saw it, but it read that it was undelivered. I didn’t know what to do or who to call.” She pushes open the door and flicks on the light.

My eyes bug the fuck out as soon as I see what’s plastered all over Felicity’s room.

“What the fuck?”

“I know. I had no idea she could be capable of something like this,” Jordan responds. Pinned, framed, and taped throughout the room are pictures of me throughout the years—some I’ve seen, paparazzi photos from press events, social media posts, and other easily-found pictures. Others are candid pictures taken in secret and creepy as fuck. Printed on computer paper, my image is like a wallpaper collage. Turning around, I look behind her bed and see pictures of Ava with lines and marks over her face. Some of these pictures have fucking holes and burns over them.

On her nightstand, there’s a selfie-style picture of me and Felicity from last year. In the picture, I’m looking over my shoulder, but Felicity is staring at me with a crazed look in her eyes. Her entire room is a shrine to me and a rage room toward Ava.

“Where the fuck would she go?” I ask Jordan, looking at the wall with Ava’s pictures.

“I don’t know. She should have been home an hour ago. We had plans to get dinner after her last class, but she never showed up. I’ve been calling and texting her, but there’s no answer.”

“Fuck,” I grind out and pull out my phone, about to dial a number when I notice that Felicity left her laptop on her desk. Opening it, I see that Felicity has it password protected. “Do you know the password?” I ask Jordan.

“It used to be her birthday. I’m not sure if she’s changed it, six twenty-five zero two.” I type in the numbers, but it comes up as incorrect. Acting on gut instinct, I key in my birthday, seven nine zero two, and the fucker unlocks.

“Fucking stalker,” I mutter under my breath. On her desktop is a folder labeled, “Greyson

With the hundreds of files in this folder, along with the creepy as fuck room, there’s no doubt that she fucked up.

Pulling my phone back out, I dial a number I’ve grown familiar with in the last two weeks and wait for Ava’s dad to pick up.

“Greyson,” he greets on the second ring.

Bypassing formalities, I tell him, “I know who’s behind the video, texts, and picture. I’m staring at a shitload of evidence right now.”

“Goddammit. Where are you? What the hell is going on, and where is Ava?” I tell him about the text messages I received earlier, followed by the nightmare that I walked into in Felicity’s room. “Ava’s in class for the next twenty minutes, but I’m meeting her outside of the lecture hall to bring her back to my place tonight,” I tell her dad. I don’t give a fuck if he’s uncomfortable with his daughter sleeping at my house, there’s no way in hell that I’m going to let her out of my sight now.

“Good, she needs to be watched at all times before this girl is brought in for questioning. Once I hang up, I’ll call the police and tell them about Felicity. They’re going to need a search warrant to keep everything airtight. Send me a message with your exact location, and for the love of God, do not touch or tamper with anything else. As far as I’m concerned, this is an active crime scene and needs to be preserved.”

“Got it.”

“Call your father and let him know what’s going on. I’m calling the police now, son.” I hang up with Ava’s dad and shoot my dad a quick text letting him know shit went down and that Mr. Gregori is handling the call with the police. Knowing my dad’s schedule, I know he’s filming his segment right now and won’t be checking his phone for hours.

This shit is finally over, and my girl can fucking move on from this.

Ava

Thirty minutes before class was set to end, my biology professor let us out. Normally, I’d say that biology was my least favorite class this semester, but with today’s early release, I feel significantly more hospitable toward the subject.

I’m already outside of the building and halfway across the quad when I realize that I didn’t tell Grey that my class was let out early. When I left Grey’s house before my class, he told me that he’d pick me up and we’d go for dinner afterward. Fishing my phone out of my bag, I unlock my phone and click on Grey’s contact information to text him.

Ava: Hey, I just got out of class and I’m walking across campus. I’ll meet you at my dorm instead so that I can freshen up before we leave. Where did you say we were going again?

Not even a minute goes by before Grey is calling me.