Chapter 37

Sleep evaded me that night. Every creak of the house, every rustle of leaves outside my window, sounded like Grayson's footsteps, drawing closer. I tossed and turned, the image of the blue roses seared into my mind. Their unnatural color was a constant reminder of his unnatural obsession.

James had crashed on my couch, promising to keep watch. His presence was a comfort, a solid anchor in the swirling storm of my fear. But even with him nearby, I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, of being a puppet in Grayson's elaborate play.

The morning crawled by. I couldn't focus on anything, my mind constantly replaying my conversation with Wilson, replaying the image of Grayson's cold, calculating eyes. I tried to distract myself with my acting exercises, repeating lines from various plays, but the words felt hollow, meaningless.

My phone buzzed, pulling me from my thoughts. It was Savannah.

"Hey, Scar," she said, her voice bright and cheerful. "How's the haunted house training going? Ready to scare some folks?"

I forced a smile into my voice. "Yeah, going great. Just running lines, you know? Getting into character."

"Good," she said. "Listen, I'm off work early today. Want to grab lunch? We haven't seen each other in ages."

The offer was tempting. A normal, sisterly lunch. A brief respite from the creeping dread that had consumed me. But I couldn't risk it. Not with Grayson lurking.

"I'd love to, Savvy," I said, "but I'm swamped with rehearsals. Maybe next week?"

"Alright," she said, a hint of disappointment in her voice. "Next week it is. Be careful, okay? I heard there was some weird stuff happening around your neighborhood."

"Weird stuff?" I echoed, my heart skipping a beat.

"Yeah, just some petty thefts and vandalism, nothing major. But still, keep your doors locked."

I swallowed hard. Petty thefts and vandalism. Or Grayson, testing the waters, seeing how easily he could infiltrate my life.

"Thanks, Savvy," I said. "I will."

I hung up the phone, my hands shaking. It was official. My life was no longer my own.

The afternoon was a blur of nervous energy. James tried to keep me occupied, running lines with me, making me laugh with his ridiculous impressions, but even his efforts couldn't completely pierce the veil of anxiety that surrounded me.

As evening approached, the reality of my plan sunk in. Tonight, I would face Grayson. Tonight, I would confront the man who had turned my life into a nightmare.

I took a long, hot shower, trying to wash away the fear and the feeling of being violated. I shaved my legs, scrubbed my skin raw, desperate to feel clean, to feel like myself again.

When I stepped out of the shower, James was waiting for me, holding a dress bag.

"I brought you something to wear," he said, a small smile on his face. "Something that says, 'Don't mess with me.'"

I opened the bag and gasped. Inside was a stunning black dress, sleek and form-fitting, with a daringly low neckline. It was elegant, powerful, and undeniably sexy.

"James, this is..." I trailed off, unable to find the right words.

"Perfect?" he finished for me, winking. "I know you. You need something that makes you feel confident, something that makes you feel like you're in control."

He was right. The dress was exactly what I needed. A suit of armor for the battlefield I was about to enter.

We got ready in silence, the air thick with tension and unspoken fears. I applied my makeup with a steady hand, transforming myself into someone else, someone stronger, someone who wouldn't back down.

When I was finally ready, I looked in the mirror and barely recognized myself. The girl with the haunted eyes and trembling hands was gone, replaced by a woman with a determined gaze and a fierce resolve.

Tonight, I was going to fight back.