Chapter 173: Madeline
A few hours pass, and I’m lost—utterly lost—in the book I picked from the twins’ shelf.
It’s about a Navy SEAL with a dark, traumatic past who finds love in the least likely place. I didn’t expect either Reid or Jake to own something like this, but I’m eating it up, page after page, completely absorbed. The storm has quieted to a steady hum outside, and everyone else is scattered around the house, half-relaxing, half-dozing.
I’m at a part where the main character finally admits his feelings when the sudden ping ping ping of phones goes off around the room. Everyone looks up at once.
“Oh, guess service is back,” Liam says, grabbing his phone.
Reid and Jake each reach for theirs, screens lighting up with notifications. Finn groans something about the group chat being a nightmare, and Sloane mutters that her inbox is full of weather alerts.
But mine—
Mine doesn’t stop.
It keeps going. One after another after another.
And my blood runs cold.
I don’t get texts. Hardly anyone even has my number.
I look up slowly. Charlie’s already staring at me from across the room, her expression tight, knowing.
She leans forward and whispers, “Do you want me to check?”
I can’t speak. I just nod.
She walks over quietly, takes the phone from my hands, and swipes across the screen. Then her face drains of color. Completely.
My stomach flips. My hands start to shake, and I try to hide it, folding them in my lap, but they tremble anyway.
Charlie schools her expression, forces a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “You’re fine,” she says softly, like a lullaby. “It’s fine. It’s nothing, okay?”
Her thumbs move quickly across the screen, and I know what she’s doing. She’s deleting them.
I don’t ask her to stop. I can’t.
But I don’t believe her. Not for a second.
It’s him.
It has to be him.
The shaking gets worse. I can’t breathe properly, so I get up—too fast—and make for the bathroom. Charlie’s right behind me.
The second I open the door, I fall to my knees and throw up.
Most of my breakfast comes back up, and Charlie’s there, holding my hair back, murmuring something soft I can barely hear. My hands are pressed against the cold tile, my whole body trembling like I’m freezing.
“What did they say?” I whisper, voice barely a sound.
Charlie hesitates, her jaw tight.
“What did the texts say?” I repeat, this time louder, desperate.
She sighs, eyes glistening. “He said…” Her throat works. “He said he doesn’t like when you ignore him. That you need to talk to him. That he's... mad.”
I gag again, the words alone making me heave until there’s nothing left.
Charlie’s still there, rubbing my back, whispering, “It’s okay, it’s okay. He doesn’t know where you are. It didn’t say anything about that, I swear. Just those words. Nothing else.”
I grip the edge of the toilet so tight my knuckles ache.
She’s right. There’s no way he could know where I am.
I never told the police where I was moving. I deleted every email about Northhaven. I scrubbed everything before I left.
He can’t know.
He can’t.
But I’ll have to change my number again. Another new start, another attempt to keep him from finding me.
I whisper, “I thought you blocked the number.”
Charlie looks at me, guilt flickering through her eyes. “I did. That was a different one.”
My stomach drops.
A quiet sob escapes before I can stop it. “Why won’t he leave me alone?”
She doesn’t answer—because there isn’t one.
There’s a knock on the door. Jake’s voice. “Hey—everything okay in there?”
Charlie looks at me, wide-eyed, then back toward the door. “She’s fine,” she says quickly. “Too big of a breakfast, or you’re just a terrible cook.”
Jake’s voice softens. “You sure?”
“Positive,” Charlie says. “We’ll be out in a sec.”
He lingers a moment, then we hear him walk away.
I sag back against the wall, exhausted.
Charlie wipes my face gently with a towel, brushing hair from my forehead. “You should tell them, Mads. You should really tell them.”
I shake my head weakly. “No. Not now.”
“Why not?”
Because it’ll make it real. Because they’ll see me differently. Because I don’t want to be that girl—broken, damaged, dragging danger into their lives.
Because what if they think having a girlfriend with a crazy ex is too much trouble?
I whisper, “They’ll see me differently. I just… can’t.”
Charlie sighs, looking at me with that mix of love and frustration that only she can pull off. “Okay. Not yet.”
But even as she says it, I can tell she’s thinking what I am.
That it’s not a matter of if they find out—
It’s when.
And when they do, everything might change.
After a while, once the worst of it settles in my chest instead of rising up my throat, I wash my face with cold water. I still feel shaky, but I have to go out there. I can’t hide in here forever.
I open the bathroom door slowly, half hoping no one’s waiting.
But of course—they’re both there.
Reid and Jake stand just outside, leaning against the opposite wall like twin stone statues, arms crossed. Both of their heads snap up when they see me.
Reid’s brows pinch together. “You good?”
Jake tilts his head slightly. His eyes scan me like he’s trying to see under my skin, not just through it.
I force the most casual smile I can manage, even though it feels brittle on my face. “Yeah,” I say quickly. “Just a stomach ache. I’m fine.”
Jake doesn’t look convinced. Reid definitely doesn’t either.
I take a step forward. “Seriously. Probably just too much breakfast.”
Then, without giving them a chance to ask more, I move past them—too fast, too eager—and make a beeline for the couch.
The book’s still there, folded open on the armrest. I scoop it up like a lifeline and drop onto the cushions, curling my legs underneath me.
My eyes scan the words, but nothing sinks in.
I feel them behind me. Watching. Maybe waiting for me to say more.
But I don’t.
I just press the book closer to my face, pretending like I can still concentrate on a Navy SEAL’s fictional trauma when mine is clawing up my spine, begging to be acknowledged.
I can’t tell them yet.
So I do what I always do.
I bury it.
And keep reading.