Chapter 8

"No!" I lunged across the bed, grabbing Hannah's arm before she could dial. "Hannah, please! Don't call him!"

She stared at me, her expression a mix of confusion and frustration. "Why not? Chloe, this is serious. This guy is a psycho. Dean can help. He has connections, he can hire people-"

"I can't deal with Dean right now," I pleaded, my voice raw from crying. "He... he suffocates me. He asks too many questions. He looks at me like I'm a specimen. I can't handle him on top of this."

Hannah's brow furrowed. "Dean is intense, but he cares. He would never let someone hurt you."

"You don't understand," I whispered, pulling my knees up to my chest. "Being around him feels like being trapped. Just like this stalker. I feel like I have no control. I can't trade one cage for another."

Hannah sat down on the edge of the bed, her hand still holding her phone. She looked at me, really looked at me, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of understanding in her eyes.

"Okay," she said slowly. "I get it. You don't want Dean. But, Chloe, you can't fight this alone. The police can't help. Changing your number doesn't work. This guy is a hacker, or something. You need a professional."

I buried my face in my hands. I knew she was right. I was out of my depth. This wasn't a physical threat I could run from. It was digital. It was invisible. And it was everywhere.

"What other choice do I have?" I asked, my voice muffled.

"Let Dean find someone," Hannah urged. "He knows cybersecurity experts. He knows private investigators. He doesn't have to be the one dealing with it directly. He can just pull the strings."

The idea made my skin crawl, but the terror of the shower text was still fresh in my mind. I couldn't live like this. I couldn't function knowing that every move I made was being recorded and analyzed.

"Just this once," Hannah said, her tone softening. "Let him help. And I'll make sure he keeps his distance. I'll be the middleman. You won't even have to talk to him."

I looked up at her. Her eyes were sincere, desperate to help me. She was a good friend. The best. And I was shutting her out because of my own paranoia.

Maybe she was right. Maybe I could use Dean's resources without getting entangled in his web. A transaction. A business deal. I give him the problem, he fixes it, and I walk away.

"Okay," I said, the word tasting like ash in my mouth. "Okay. But just the resources. I don't want him in my room. I don't want him questioning me. Just... find the guy."

Hannah let out a breath she had been holding. "Thank you. I promise, I'll handle it."

She picked up her phone again, her thumbs flying over the screen. She drafted a text to Dean and held it out for me to see.

"Hey. Chloe is being cyberstalked by a serious creep. Cops are useless. Can we get a pro on this ASAP?"

The words stared back at me. It was a cry for help. It was an invitation. It was a door opening that I wasn't sure I could ever close.

"Is that okay?" Hannah asked.

I stared at the screen. Dean's face flashed in my mind,The cold blue eyes, The commanding voice.

But then, another image flashed. The photo of me in the library,The text about the shower,The constant, suffocating fear.

I had to choose. The devil I knew, or the devil I didn't.

I closed my eyes. "Send it."