Page 7

six

Chased by Shadows

Whitney

Bad Bitch Energy: Damien Styles

W aking up well past noon the next day, a wave of emotions washes over me as my eyes open, realizing that Havoc and Crow are gone, no longer keeping watch like they did the night before. I can’t recall when they left or even when I fell asleep; Havoc wasn’t exaggerating about that blunt knocking me out.

As if sensing I'm awake, Boston bursts into my bedroom, hands full of coffee cups with a blunt tucked behind her ear. She thrusts one of the cups into my hands the instant I sit up, collapsing onto the edge of my bed, all bright smiles as she lights the blunt.

“Wake and bake, right?” She chirps, her eyes already glazed over with delight.

“Uh, sure. But why are you so fucking cheerful this morning?” I groan, taking my first sip of coffee, the warmth and sweet vanilla flavor awakening my insides.

“It’s afternoon, Whitney, not morning. Looks like you slept through the whole thing, like it was some bad hangover.” She eyes me playfully, a smirk dancing on her lips.

I shrug, peering at her over the rim of my cup, unsure if I should confide in her about what happened with the guys last night. I know that’s what friends are supposed to do, but I’m still navigating that territory. Growing up, I connected better with boys than girls, and after Dustin isolated me, I wasn’t allowed to get close to anyone. Boston is the first girl I’ve let in since I can remember. Even moving here, I met Havoc and Crow long before crossing paths with her.

“You fucked them, didn’t you?” She audaciously asks, pulling me from my thoughts. “It’s written all over your face, so don’t even try to deny it.”

I roll my eyes playfully, finally allowing a smile to break through. “Yeah, I did, but it... it wasn’t what I expected,” I admit, my cheeks flushing as I recall the events of last night.

“Girl, it was just a matter of time! I’m so happy for you.” She envelops me in a hug, and that’s when I freeze.

But it’s not from the awkwardness of her embrace. As I glance over her shoulder toward the window, I spot a small, folded piece of paper resting on the window seat, something that wasn’t there last night. A surge of fear rushes through me as we pull apart, and forcing a smile feels more taxing than I anticipated. I need her out of here so I can see what the note says, but I don’t want to be rude.

“So, what are your plans for the day?” I ask, desperately trying to change the subject, though the paper burns a hole in my thoughts.

“I’m going to see Lux and Donovan for a bit before work. Tonight’s a big night for them, so I won’t get to see them after.” She hits the blunt, speaking through the smoke as it curls from her lips.

I take a hit too, inhaling deeply to make the wrap light faster. But this only results in a massive, dizzying head rush.

“What about you?” she asks, grabbing the blunt from me while I offset the resulting spell with another sip of coffee.

“I’m not sure. I think I’ll just chill before work. Had a long night,” I reply, telling a half-truth. The reality is that I’m hiding in my room, terrified that my ex has found me.

Before I can say anything else, my phone buzzes, providing the welcome distraction. I reach for it eagerly, but confusion and dread return when I swipe to unlock the screen, noticing the message is from an unknown number.

I need to see you.

I read the message repeatedly, hoping for a flicker of recognition, but my heart sinks as the same five words jump out at me, igniting an extreme surge of fear in my bones.

“Okay, well, I’ll be back in time for us to leave together as usual. Don’t you dare leave without me,” Boston calls out, her voice breaking through the fog in my mind.

“I won’t,” I assure her, my smile still strained as she stands and heads for the door.

Pausing to look back, she meets my eyes, her expression shifting to one of seriousness. “If you ever need to talk, Whit, I’m always here. You’re not alone in whatever’s bothering you, okay?”

“Thanks, Boston. I’ll keep that in mind.”

The moment she leaves, I leap out of bed and rush to the window seat, snatching up the neatly folded paper. My fingers tremble as I unfold it, and my heart races even more. Slipping from my shaky hands, the paper flutters to the floor, revealing the identical five words from the text:

No name is written on it—nothing to help me decipher who it came from, leaving me trembling with terror. Has Dustin found me? Is this some twisted game of his to scare me? Or is it someone else entirely? With no answers, I snatch the paper off the floor, toss it into my nightstand drawer, and gather my things for a shower. I refuse to be a prisoner in my own home while some unknown asshole thinks it’s amusing to fucking terrorize me.

The hot water cascades over my skin, washing away the lingering feelings of dread that cling to me like a smothering blanket. I try to cleanse my mind, let the steam obscure my thoughts, focusing instead on the scent of my lavender shampoo and the way it envelops me in a soothing haze. But no matter how hard I scrub, I can’t wash away the gnawing anxiety rooted deep within me—what if the message is from Dustin?

I force myself to breathe in sync with the water's flow, counting the beats in my chest as I repeat the mantra: "I am safe. I am safe." But the pulse of uncertainty beats louder.

Draped in a towel, I step out of the shower and into the cool air of my bedroom, my thoughts racing like the quick flicker of the memories tied to Dustin—the laughter, the darkness, the way he turned love into something suffocating. I shake my head, trying to dispel them as I dress quickly, throwing on my favorite oversized band tee and jeans. Makeup can wait; I need to figure things out first. I can’t allow that panic to settle in again.

My phone buzzes again, and I feel a shock run through me. I approach it cautiously, half-expecting it to be the unknown number once more, but it’s just Lux, reminding me of work later. My heart rate slows just a notch, but the mystery still looms overhead.

As I finish getting ready, a plan forms in my mind. I can’t let fear dictate my life. It’s time to confront the doubt. I decide to take a walk outside, hoping the fresh air will clear my head. Escaping this cramped room could bring some clarity, or at least make it easier to breathe again.

The sunlight is glaring as I step outside; the fresh breeze feels liberating against my skin. I tuck a stray hair behind my ear and focus on each step, venturing toward the Dunkin a few blocks away. The aroma of coffee mixes with the faint scent of blooming flowers, creating a delightful sensory overload, and I finally allow myself a small smile.

As I approach Dunkin, I see a familiar figure sitting at a table outside: Red, his dark hair tousled in the wind, a thoughtful look plastered across his handsome features. It feels both soothing and unsettling to see him; my heart skips a beat, struck by the memories of last night at work flooding my senses—the heat of his breath against my skin, the way he made me feel alive again.

Trying to shake off the overwhelming emotions, I force my legs to move forward, and he looks up, his expression shifting from pensive to warm once he notices me.

“Hey, I wasn't expecting to see you here today,” he calls, waving me over.

“Hey,” I reply, attempting to sound more casual than I feel. “Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all. Coffee?” He gestures to the table; it seems he’s ordering his second cup.

“Thanks,” I mumble, looking around to distract myself from all my swirling thoughts, but he’s watching me intently, those piercing eyes making it hard to hide my unease.

“Everything okay?” he asks, concern lacing his tone.

“Yeah. Just... kind of a weird day,” I admit, feeling the weight of honesty pulling me closer to him.

“Weird how?”

I open my mouth to explain about the messages, still unsure exactly how to phrase it, when the tension in my stomach knots at the thought of dragging him into my mess. But as I look into his eyes, searching for a way to convey my unease, the words spill out.

“I got these messages, and I’m not sure who they’re from...”

His expression darkens, brows furrowing slightly, and I note how his body shifts closer, instinctively creating a barrier between me and the uncertainty lingering outside in the world. Still getting used to seeing him without his mask, I can't seem to rip my eyes off of his face.

“What did they say?” he asks, voice low and steady.

I hesitate, picturing the paper tucked away safely in my drawer and the fleeting fear it brought me, but there’s a determination surging within me now, fueled by my connection with him.

“They said, ‘I need to see you.’”

A flicker of recognition crosses his face, and I brace for the worst. “Whitney, listen to me. Whoever sent that might not have good intentions.”

“I know, Captain Obvious,” I whisper sarcastically, all the while trying to hold his gaze.

Red leans in closer, an unspoken promise of loyalty conveyed in his fierce stare. “Just don’t dismiss this. You need to be cautious.”

Suddenly, my phone vibrates against the table, snapping my attention away. I scoot closer and reach for it, my stomach twisting again as I see the unknown number’s name pop up on the screen, a new message blinking insistently.

Are you ignoring me, Whitney?.

Panic surges through my veins, my heart pounding like it’s trying to escape. I glance back at Red, and his expression has hardened into an unreadable mask, opening the floodgates of anxiety within me as I fumble for my words. “I—”

But I don’t get to finish. Red's chair scrapes against the ground as he stands abruptly, urgency radiating from him. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

Before I can protest, he’s already striding away, the warmth he’d wrapped me in dissipating into the air, leaving me with a deep sense of foreboding. The coffee shop, once a comforting haven, suddenly feels like a cage, secrets waiting to be uncovered and shadows lingering just outside the door.

And then I hear it—a low voice, rough and unmistakable, that sends a shiver racing down my spine as it slices through the steady hum of the outside world. As Red and 13 come around the corner grinning mischievously, the panic begins to dissipate, and because of the situation with Havoc and Crow, deep down I know things just got a lot more complicated. But at least my mind is off of the mystery of the messages for the time being.

After spending the day with Cade and Carter, just talking and getting to know each other, we decide to part ways once the sun goes down, knowing we all have work tonight. My apartment isn't that far from Dunkin, but I don't want to walk home by myself, not after the day of random messages I've gotten, and I'm still left without any answers as to who they're from.

"Want us to walk you home?" Cade asks, a mischievous grin twisting on his lips. "You know, now that Havoc isn't here to be a fucking buzzkill."

I laugh, suddenly feeling very exposed, especially after fucking both him and Crow last night. But Cade and Carter don't need to know that. I'm sure they'll find out somehow, but it isn't going to be right now.

"Yeah, if you don't mind. It's been a... weird day," I admit, rising to my feet and stretching my arms above my head.

They say nothing, both taking a spot on either side of me as we walk down the dark sidewalk, the city coming to life the later it gets. The entire walk home, the hair on the back of my neck and arms stays raised at attention, almost as if I'm being followed, but I never bother turning around to check. I link hands with the guys, a move that makes me feel a little safer, keeping a smile on my face for the remainder of the walk.

"You want us to come up for a minute?" Carter asks, finally speaking without Cade leading the conversation—he's much more reserved.

"I mean you can, but you don't have to," I tell them, kind of wishing they'd come up.

"Open the door, Little Mischief," Cade commands, his voice low and gravelly, giving me the chills.

I comply, letting them inside my safe space, and they follow closely behind up three flights of stairs since the elevator is broken. Once we're inside my apartment and it's clear that Boston isn't home yet, out of nowhere, Cade pushes me against the wall, pinning his body against mine. His hand cups my cheek, and his other brushes the hair out of my face. And then he kisses me, with no other warning but his lips on mine and his tongue eagerly tangling with mine. I kiss him back, feeling so small under his massive six-foot figure, and before I know it, I'm lifted into his arms, my legs instinctively locking around his waist.

"Fuck, I've been wanting to do this for so damn long," he murmurs against my lips, refusing to stop the kiss.

"Then why haven't you?" I curiously ask, pulling back slightly for a breath of air.

"I don't know if you've noticed, but it's kind of hard to do anything when you're constantly under watch. Havoc and Crow never let you out of their fucking sight." He looks me in the eye as he claims my lips again, backing me up against Carter, who wraps his arms around my waist and begins gently kissing a line of hot kisses along my spine, my shirt lifted.

When I'm least expecting it, Carter grabs my face and turns my head to the side, claiming my lips that are soaked with Cade's spit. Cade chuckles darkly, walking me over to the couch and dropping me while my lips are locked onto Carter's. I'm not sure what is happening, but I can't seem to stop, and neither can either of them.

Another message makes my phone vibrate, and it's enough to finally break the heated kiss with Carter, and the three of us sit on the couch trying to catch our breath. As I nervously check the message, Cade pulls out a little baggie filled with a light brown powder that I know all too well is heroin. As he cuts up three lines, I tap on the message and read it, almost throwing up in my mouth.

You just love fucking pissing me off, don't you, Whitney? Those fucking lips are mine, not theirs.

I gasp and drop the phone, trying to remain as calm as I can without looking around to see if I'm being watched, and I'm not trying to alert the guys either. With shaky hands, much like this morning, I pick up my phone and force a smile, trying to ignore it for the rest of the night.

"Here, do a line, and I promise it'll relax you for the rest of your night," Cade tells me, handing me a rolled-up bill.

Not thinking clearly, I take it and sniff the fattest line, relishing the familiar burn that I haven't felt in over a year.

The high hits me like a freight train—warmth washes over me, the tension in my muscles melts away, and for a moment, I forget about the threats lurking in my life. The edges of my reality blur, and laughter bubbles uncontrollably as Cade and Carter join in, their energy infectious.

“Welcome back to the good life,” Cade teases, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “I knew it was just a matter of time before you’d want to play with us.”

“Play?” I echo, feeling light and airy, anchored by the drug and their presence. “This feels more like a fucking carnival, not a playdate.”

Carter leans in, his breath warm against my ear. “It’s all about the adventure, right? And trust me, this ride is one you won’t forget.”

The atmosphere shifts, an electric buzz that thrums through the air around us. Their bodies draw closer, and I can feel the intoxicating pull between us—stirring the heat that's been simmering since last night. I glance up to meet Cade's stormy gaze, where desire mixes with something darker, something hungry that sends a thrill down my spine.

I want to let go completely, to get lost in the moment and forget the sinister messages haunting my thoughts. But just when I think I can escape it all, a dark cloud creeps back in. The clarity of my consciousness slips just enough for the anxiety to creep in—a reminder of how much I’ve sacrificed and what’s still at stake. That message, those words, echo in my mind, taunting me.

Those fucking lips are mine, not theirs.

“Guys, um…” My voice trembles slightly, and both Cade and Carter pause, looking at me expectantly.

Their expressions shift from playful to concerned, a momentary flicker of guilt flashing between us. But the drugs slide my worries to the back of my mind.

“Yeah?” Cade prompts, twirling a lock of my hair around his finger as he leans closer to invade my space.

“Nothing. Just had a weird day. You know how it is,” I mumble, half-lying as I pull back and focus on Carter instead. “So, what else do you two mischief-makers have planned for tonight?”

Instead of answering, Carter pulls me closer, his warm hands resting on my waist as he tenderly kisses my neck, making goosebumps cover every inch of my skin and a moan slip from my lips that I cannot control.

“We make the plans as we go. Just know that we won’t let anyone hurt you. Not ever.”

His words hang in the air, a promise laced in tension, igniting feelings I want to ignore but can't. Instead, I lean back into his touch, closing my eyes and savoring every second. And then the world outside my door momentarily fades as if the very air shifts and wards off impending shadows. Cade grabs my hand to pull me up with a playful smirk, his eyes bright with mischief.

“Come on, let’s do a few more before work so we can get the night started.”

Without hesitation, I push aside the intrusion of reality and shuffle the short distance to my modest sound system while they pull out more drugs and prep them on the table. As the music blares to life, pulsing through the apartment, it pulls me into a world of rhythm and freedom. With every beat, I feel like I might just fly away, liberated from every nagging concern, every fear.

But just as I get lost in the music, an icy wave rolls through me—a sixth sense that something is amiss. It claws at the back of my mind, and I shake my head slightly to dismiss it. I do my best to try to let the music drown it out.

I do another line, this time of cocaine, a little bump to wake me up, and then it happens—the euphoric haze breaks as my phone vibrates again. The sudden sound is like a gunshot in the silence of my thoughts, and I freeze mid-step.

“My phone.” I grab it off the coffee table, hands shaking slightly as I see the message glare back at me, tearing through the bliss of the moment like a knife.

I told you those fucking lips belong to me. Do you remember how it felt when I had you?

The weight of the words drags me down, like an anchor pulling me into deep water. My heart races, and as dread fills my veins, I glance between Cade and Carter, both on their phones, desperately trying to figure out if they’ve noticed the shift in my energy.

“What’s up?” Cade asks, eyebrow cocked.

“Nothing. Just a cramp,” I lie, forcing a smile that quickly fades as I study their expressions.

I can't let them see how shaken I am. And deep in my gut, I know I need to get a handle on this. This isn't simply some casual encounter anymore; this is dangerous, and the worst part of it is that I have no idea who it is. I have my suspicions, but nothing concrete yet.

Just as an uneasy silence begins to settle in the room, Carter’s phone buzzes, and he glances at the screen with furrowed brows. “Uh, I think I have to take this. It’s Lux.”

“Yeah, sure,” I mumble, feeling a wave of annoyance wash over me.

Why can’t anyone just stay still for a second? My mind is racing with thoughts, the drugs beginning to wear off as the reality of the situation creeps back in.

Cade is still beside me, and as Carter retreats to the other side of the room, I can feel the weight of his gaze on me.

“You alright, Whit?” he asks, keeping his tone soft, genuine concern etched across his face.

“Just a lot going on, you know?” I reply, forcing a lightness into my tone that feels as fragile as glass. I can't let myself slip into panic, not in front of him, not now.

“Okay. Just remember, we’re here for you,” he says, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest.

The way he holds himself is confident, protectively, like he would take on the world for me if need be. I nod slowly, appreciating the sentiment, but just as quickly the dark shadow creeps into my mind again—the looming presence of an unknown threat. I can’t think about that now. Instead, I refocus on being in the moment and the electric connection between Cade and me.

And just like that, the music swells again, the beat pulsating like a heartbeat, drawing me back into the rhythm. I step closer to him, feeling the intoxicating heat radiating from his body, and we start to sway, the lights of the city morphing into a colorful blur outside the window. For a few blissful moments, I lose myself, forgetting the messages, the hidden menaces, the shadow of my ex, and the secrets hanging over us like a storm cloud.

But the reprieve is short-lived. As our bodies move in sync, I catch a glimpse of my phone light flashing at the corner of my eye again, and my stomach churns. That familiarity beckons, a reminder I dread—but curiosity coils tightly around my thoughts, leaving me unable to ignore it.

“Dance with me,” I whisper just as Cade dips me low, the smirk on his face radiating confidence, drawing me back into my body as my laughter spills out.

But I can’t shake the fear anymore—the urgent text message pushes its way to the forefront of my mind, and suddenly the buzz of excitement feels faint.

“I need to check something,” I murmur, stumbling back reluctantly from the momentary euphoria.

When I reach for my phone, my heart races unevenly. I swipe to unlock it, half-hoping the ominous feeling would prove unfounded, but the screen rapidly refreshes, revealing yet another message from the unknown number.

I see you're having fun, Whitney. Enjoy it while you can. You’ll need to be ready for what comes next.

My throat constricts painfully, panic gripping my chest. It’s as if the world has warped around me, the floor threatening to crumble beneath my feet. My fingers tremble as I clutch the phone, the email app offering no solace as paranoia sets in.

But as the night rolls on, I can't shake the sensation swirling in my gut—the threads of consequence tightening around my heart. The dance becomes increasingly electrifying, my body alive with the rhythm, yet the reality outside pushes in. The hairs on the back of my neck prickle with anxiety, an awareness that maybe I should have heeded.

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about what’s bothering you?” Cade asks quietly mid-rhythm, leaning in close enough for me to feel the warmth of him.

In that moment, I realize how hard it is to balance what I feel with who I want to be—the light and the dark intertwining, pulling me between a world of freedom and the shadowed deception lurking just beyond my doorstep.

“I’m fine, really,” I say, forcing a smile as I push thoughts of the messages deep down, wanting to preserve the moment a little longer. “Just… enjoying the now.”

But the words feel like a desperate lie, a whisper against the crashing waves of reality. And as we draw closer to each other, I wonder how long I can hide from the truths that leech into the background.

Just then, my phone buzzes again, and I hold my breath, dread filling my veins again. Ignoring the line between desire and danger, I resolve to dance, to live in the moment as best I can, for who knows what the morning will bring? With a deep breath, I dive back into the rhythm, hoping that bliss can cover my tracks long enough for me to piece together the certainty of this confusion before it consumes me whole.