I can feel it—something’s off. Jamie’s not just sitting around anymore, moping at Sam’s like a kicked dog. He’s up to something, and it’s making my skin crawl. I’ve been watching—keeping tabs on him, sliding by the bookstore, the coffee shop, anywhere he might pop up. Yesterday, I saw him leaving Casey’s place, head down, moving fast, like he’s got purpose. That’s bad. Casey’s nosy—always has been—and if she’s pushing him, they’re digging. They’re getting too close, sniffing around my plans, and I can’t let that happen. I’ve worked too hard—Jamie’s out, Alex is mine, and Morgan’s got my back. I won’t lose now.
I’m in my dorm, pacing, my shoes tapping the floor. The notes I left—those creepy little messages—were supposed to scare him off, keep him down. That sketch on his mirror, Alex’s face in red ink—it was perfect, a twist of his own knife. But it’s not working—he’s not breaking, not running. Casey’s got him fighting, and I hate her for it. She’s too smart, too stubborn, and if she’s helping him, they might find something—my emails, the IP slip, Morgan’s orders. My chest tightens, and I stop, gripping my desk. They can’t—I’ve covered it, haven’t I? Morgan said it’s tight, no cracks, but Jamie’s still moving, and it’s making me itchy.
I need to stop this—fast, before they dig too deep. Alex is the key—he’s wobbly, doubting Jamie, but not solid with me yet. I’ve been soft with him, checking in, acting worried, and it’s working—he listens, nods, lets me closer. But if Jamie’s got proof, if he convinces Alex, it’s over. I grab my phone, my hands sweaty, and think. I’ve got to flip it—make Jamie the bad guy again, push Alex away from him for good. A distress call—something big, something Alex can’t ignore. I smirk, the idea clicking. Harassment—perfect. I’ll say Jamie’s coming after me, freaking out, and Alex will eat it up—he’s already unsure.
I dial Alex, my voice shaky when he picks up. “Alex?” I say, soft, scared, like I’m falling apart. “It’s me—Riley. I—I didn’t know who else to call.”
“Riley?” he says, slow, surprised. “What’s wrong?”
I sniff, fake a little tremble. “It’s Jamie—he’s harassing me. He showed up at my dorm, yelling, banging on the door. Said I ruined him, that I’d pay. I’m scared, Alex—he’s losing it.” I pause, let it sink in, my heart racing. It’s a lie, but it’s good—he’ll bite.
There’s silence, then he says, “Jamie did that?” His voice is low, shaky—like he’s torn, not sure what to think. I grin, quick, then cover it.
“Yeah,” I say, pushing tears into my words. “I don’t know what to do—he’s mad, blaming me for everything. I thought—I thought you should know.” I wait, holding my breath, listening to him breathe on the other end.
“That’s… I don’t know, Riley,” he says, slow. “He came by today, had papers—said you and Morgan set him up. Now this?” He sounds off—confused, like he’s spinning. Good—he’s feeling it, the pull both ways.
“He’s lying,” I say fast, sharp. “He’s desperate—making stuff up. Alex, I’m scared—he’s unhinged. You’ve got to believe me.” I let my voice crack, sell it hard. He doesn’t say much—just a quiet “Okay, I’ll think about it”—and hangs up. I drop the phone, my hands shaky but buzzing. He’s wobbly, not jumping to help me, but he’s not calling Jamie either. He’s stuck, feeling manipulated—I can tell—and that’s fine. Doubt’s my friend; it keeps him from running back.
I sit on my bed, staring at the wall, my head buzzing. Alex is hesitating—that’s good, but it’s not enough. Jamie’s got Casey, and they’re close—too close. That IP slip I missed—it’s small, but if they tie it to me, if they dig into Morgan’s stuff, it’s trouble. My notes, the break-in—they’re bold, but they’re risky, and I’m slipping. I need more—something to crush Jamie, make sure he’s done. Morgan—he’s the muscle, the brains behind this. He’ll know what to do, how to hit harder.
I grab my phone again, pull up Morgan’s number—private line, one he gave me for emergencies. My fingers shake, but I type fast: “Time to make it worse for him.” I hit send, my breath short, and wait. He’ll get it—Jamie’s pushing, and we’ve got to push back, bury him deep. My heart’s pounding, a mix of fear and thrill. I’ve got Alex teetering, Jamie scrambling—and now Morgan’s next move. They won’t see it coming.
I feel the weight of the silence in the room, a thick tension hanging between me and my phone. Morgan’s response is imminent. The anticipation eats at me, each passing second stretching into infinity. I glance out the window, catching a glimpse of the darkening sky. My mind races, replaying every conversation, every movement Jamie’s made lately. He’s getting too close, and I need to break him before it’s too late.
The phone buzzes, snapping me from my thoughts. It’s Morgan. I open the message quickly.
“Already on it. Sit tight.”
That’s it. No need for further explanation. Morgan doesn’t waste words. His confidence is something I rely on, and it settles me, for a moment. But only for a moment. There’s too much on the line. Jamie’s no fool—he’ll fight back. And Casey? She’s a wildcard. I can’t trust her, not for a second. She’s as dangerous as Jamie, but with a different kind of edge. I need to think fast, think sharper.
I pull myself off the bed and pace the room again, the soft tapping of my shoes against the floor giving a rhythmic pulse to the chaos in my mind. My eyes flicker over to the desk, where my notes are scattered. I see the red ink on the paper, the distorted sketch of Alex’s face that I put in Jamie’s room. I thought it would be enough to rattle him, but I was wrong. I underestimated him. But I won’t make that mistake again.
My phone buzzes again, and this time I don’t hesitate to check it. It’s a message from Morgan.
“We’ll make it look like Jamie’s losing it completely. His temper’s the perfect cover. Got a plan, and it’ll hit hard. You won’t have to worry about him after this. Trust me.”
A grin spreads across my face. The relief is immediate, but there’s still that gnawing feeling in my gut. What if Jamie fights back harder than we expect? What if Casey gets in the way? The questions swirl, but I push them down. I have to keep moving, keep my cool. The plan’s in motion, and I can’t afford to falter now.
I set the phone down, taking a deep breath. Time to wait. Time to watch. And when the time comes, I’ll make sure Jamie’s nothing more than a memory.