Page 63 of Eight Count Heat
The world tilts. This isn't just harassment anymore. This is escalation. This is someone willing to commit actual crimes to drive me away.
"Reese?" Gray's voice cuts through my panic. "Are you there?"
"I'm here." I force my voice to stay steady. "We're coming back now."
"Security wants to talk to you. And Reese? Pack a bag. You're not staying in that room tonight."
The line goes dead. I stare at my phone, mind reeling.
"Talk to me," Cameron says, voice gentle but urgent.
I tell him what Gray said, watching his expression grow darker with each detail.
"This isn't random," he says when I finish. "Someone's watching you. Monitoring your movements. They knew you weren't in your room tonight."
"Kinsley." The name tastes like poison. "She's escalating because Riverside is so close. Because she knows I won't back down."
"Which means she's desperate." Cameron's hands frame my face. "Desperate people do dangerous things."
"I know." I lean into his touch, drawing strength from his steady presence. "But I'm not running. I'm not letting her win."
"Then we handle this together." He presses a quick kiss to my forehead. "All of us. As a team."
Something warm blooms in my chest despite the fear. "You mean that?"
"I mean that." His thumb traces my lower lip. "Whatever's coming, you're not facing it alone."
As we head back to campus on his motorcycle, the cool night air rushing past us, I make a decision. I'm done being reactive. Done letting Kinsley and her friends dictate my choices through fear and intimidation.
It's time to take control of this situation. Time to show them exactly what happens when you corner an Omega who's learned to fight back.
By the time we reach the team house, I have a plan forming. It's risky, potentially dangerous. But it's also the only way to end this before it escalates further.
Time to stop running and start hunting.
chapter SIXTEEN
Reese
The sight of myroom stops me cold in the doorway.
It's not the destruction I was expecting, but it's bad enough. Drawers pulled out and left hanging open, contents spilling onto the floor. My closet door gapes wide, clothes yanked off hangers and tossed carelessly back inside. Books scattered across my desk instead of neatly stacked. My bed stripped completely, sheets and comforter in a tangled heap on the floor. Even my trash can has been emptied and rifled through.
Someone spent time here. Methodical, invasive time. And they left the door wide open when they finished, like they wanted it to be discovered.
"Jesus," Gray breathes behind me. He followed me up after talking to campus security, his presence a solid anchor in this moment of surreal violation.
I step into the room, trying to catalog what might be missing, what they might have been looking for. My laptop is still here, though it's been moved. My textbooks, jewelry, even the small amount of cash I keep in my desk drawer are all untouched.
But my suppressants case is gone.
My heart lurches as I check the inner pocket of my toiletry bag where I always keep my backup supply. Empty. They found it. Whoever did this now has physical proof of what I am.
"Anything missing?" Gray asks, watching me carefully.
"No," I lie, forcing my voice to stay steady. "Just... messy."
The note is exactly where Gray said it would be. On my pillow, stark white against my navy bedding. I read it again, the words hitting differently now that I'm standing in my violated space:
