Chapter 14

STEVIE

The late afternoon sun barely penetrates the thick haze of smoke hanging in the air. The smell of burning wood and scorched fabric is overwhelming, a constant reminder of the chaos that unfolded here. My shop, my sanctuary, is a disaster zone. Police officers and news crews swarm the street, their voices blending into a cacophony of noise that sets my nerves on edge.

I lean against the doorframe, my body aching with exhaustion. I've been here all day, watching as they sift through the shop, searching for clues, interviewing anyone who might have seen something. The news crew was particularly invasive, their bright lights and probing questions a stark contrast to the darkness currently brewing inside me.

"Stevie, can we get a statement?" one of the reporters asks as she thrusts her microphone towards me. I sigh, feeling drained and tired of repeating the same things to different people. I mumble something about trusting the police and hopign for a swift resolution. My mind is elsewhere.

The police have been more professional, but their presence is just as exhausting. One of the officers, a stern woman with a no-nonsense attitude, informed me earlier in the day that the shop would be closed temporarily while they continued their investigation. It was the last thing I wanted to hear, but I knew I had no choice and was too tired to argue.

Now, as I stand here, the message left behind by the arsonist plays over and over in my mind.

UNBLOCK ME

I know who did this. I know it was Lennox. The realization hits me like a sledgehammer. How did I not see it before? The pet name, "Lil Spark," makes so much sense now. He knew who I was all along. This whole time, both games have been with the same players, the same goddamn opponent.

My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of familiar voices. I turn to see Micah and Jesse approaching, their faces etched with concern. They push through the crowd, ducking under the police tape as they make their way to me.

"Stevie!" Micah calls out, his voice cutting through the noise. He wraps me in a hug, his presence a welcome comfort. Jesse follows suit, his embrace just as reassuring.

"Are you okay?" Jesse asks, his eyes searching mine for any sign of the truth. "God, look at this place."

"I'm fine," I lie, giving him a weak smile. "Just tired. The police are still investigating and collecting evidence. They said the shop would be closed for a while until they are done. Meaning no one coming and going. I have to wait till their done before I can get this place cleaned up,"

Micah nods thoughtfully. "I know a good repair guy in town. I'll get you his info," he explains, patting me on the back.

"Thanks, Micah," I say, appreciating the gesture even though I'm not sure when I'll feel up to dealing with repairs. They mean well, but their presence only serves to remind me of the mess my life has become.

Jesse and Micah start talking amongst themselves, their voices a comforting background noise as my thoughts drift back to Lennox. He's going to pay for this. He has no idea what he's done or the attention he's brought to me. The chances of Sweet Dreams not seeing this, not seeing me on the news, are slim; now, I have to make a choice.

Stay and risk them finding me, or leave everything I've built here and run.

It isn't an easy choice, especially now that there are people in my life I care about—people I want to protect but also don't want to abandon.

I close my eyes, the weight of the decision pressing down on me. Who knew one fucking night of good sex could bring all this upon me? The thought makes me laugh, a bitter, hollow sound.

That's it, I'm buying a goddamn vibrator.

Outside, the street is busy, with people coming by to satisfy their curiosity about the commotion. Some of them whisper among themselves, pointing at the shop and then at me. I can feel their eyes on me, judging, speculating. It's almost too much to bear.

Micah and Jesse do their best to keep me distracted. They talk about anything and everything to distract me from the wreckage. Micah tells a funny story about his cat, and Jesse shares a bit of gossip about someone he went to high school with. I appreciate their efforts, but my thoughts keep drifting back to Lennox.

"Stevie, is there anything we can do? We'll stay with you as long as you need," Jesse says softly, his hand squeezing mine in reassurance.

"Thanks, guys, really. I think I'm okay right now, but I'll let you know if that changes,"

"Okay, if you're sure," Micah adds.

I nod, too tired to speak, and let their presence wash over me. Whatever comes next, at least I know I'm not facing it alone. And Lennox? He'll get what's coming to him. One way or another, I'll make sure of that.

The afternoon drags on, the sun climbing higher in the sky before it begins it's nightly retreat. The police continue their work, methodically combing through the debris. Every so often, one of them will come over to ask me another question, their voices gentle but insistent. I answer as best I can, my mind still spinning with the revelation about Lennox.

Like a goddamn addiction. A craving I can't escape.

How did he know? How long has he been playing this game? The questions swirl in my mind, each one more frustrating than the last. I thought I knew him, thought I understood the dynamics between us and this fun little game we had.

But this... this changes everything.

"Stevie, you look like you need some rest," Jesse says, his voice full of concern. "Why don't you go home and get some sleep? We'll stay here and keep an eye on things."

I shake my head. "I can't leave. I need to be here, need to see this through, but you guys go on home. I can handle it here,"

"Stubborn as always," Micah says with a small smile. "But we get it. Just promise us you'll take care of yourself, okay?"

"I promise," I say, though I'm not sure if I can keep it.

"We'll check in on you later," Jesse says, giving me one last hug.

"Thanks, guys," I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

As evening approaches, the police start wrapping up their investigation. They've gathered all the evidence they can for now, and the officer in charge informs me that I can go home, but they'll be back tomorrow to continue their work. I nod, feeling a strange mix of relief and dread.

I walk home in a daze, replaying the events of the last twenty-four hours. By the time I reach the courtyard gate, I'm running on fumes. I stumble into my house, barely making it to the couch before collapsing in a heap. The exhaustion finally takes over, pulling me into a restless sleep.

When I wake, the afternoon sun is filtering through the curtains, casting long shadows across the room. I feel groggy, my body aching from the tension and lack of rest. But there's a determination burning inside me, a resolve to see this through and make Lennox pay for what he's done.

Grim meows, jumping up beside me on the couch. He nuzzles me with his soft head, earning a small giggle.

I grab my phone and scroll through the messages Micah and Jesse sent me while I was passed out. Most of them are just checking in on me, letting me know they're here for me if I need them, but there's one message that stands out, a name and number for the repair guy Micah mentioned. I save the contact, making a mental note to call him as soon as the police give me the all-clear.

For now, I need to focus on what's next. The police will continue their investigation, but I can't sit idly by and wait for them to catch up. I need to be proactive and find a way to outsmart Lennox and turn the tables on him.

I pace the living room, my mind racing with possibilities. Lennox thinks he has the upper hand and thinks he can control the game. But he doesn't know me as well as he thinks. I've survived worse, and I'll survive this too.

The thought of leaving everything behind crosses my mind again, but I push it away. This is my life, my shop, my dream. I won't let him take that away from me. I'll find a way to stay, to fight, and to win.

After making myself some food, I sit down on the couch and click on the news, searching for any updates on the investigation. Every time I see my face on the screen, a surge of anxiety washes over me. The thought of Sweet Dreams finding me, of everything I've worked for being ripped away, is almost too much to bear.

But I can't let fear control me.

For now, I need to forget about Sweet Dreams and handle the problem that's closer to home. I have time before they get here.

I hope.

I've come too far and fought too hard to let it all slip away now. I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what's to come. Lennox needs to be handled first. He may have started this game, but I'm going to finish it.

One night of good sex? No, this is about so much more. This is about power, control, and the fight for survival. And I'm not going down without a fight.

As I turn to leave, a small, bitter smile crosses my lips. Yeah, I'm definitely buying a fucking vibrator.

The night air bites at my skin as I stand outside BB. Lennox's black Mustang is parked right in front, looking as beautiful as the night he drove me home. The street is alive with people—some drunk and stumbling down Bourbon Street, others just out for a nighttime stroll. The sky is clear, stars scattered like diamonds, mocking the chaos swirling inside me. I'm drunk and a bit stoned after needing something to take the edge off. This is something to help me forget that Sweet Dreams is likely on its way so I can focus on the current fucking problem before me.

Lennox fucking Arecenaux.

I know what I'm about to do is probably really fucking stupid. But who cares? By this time tomorrow, I'll either be long gone or dead, so the repercussions of this choice don't fucking matter. The thought makes me laugh, a bitter sound that gets lost in the noise around me.

I reach into my bag and pull out a small vial of oil, the product of the eucalyptus plants I've been tending in my shop. The irony isn't lost on me—using something I nurtured to cause destruction. Unscrewing the cap, I dump the oil on the hood of Lennox's car. People pass by, their curious gazes and whispers making my skin crawl as they watch.

"What the hell are you looking at?" I snap at them. "Keep walking. Mind your own fucking business."

They murmur among themselves but move along, their interest piqued but not enough to interfere. Using a rag, I spread the oil over the entire hood of his car. The oil glints under the streetlights, a sinister sheen that brings a smirk to my lips.

This is going to piss him off, and I couldn't care less.

He started this shit, after all.

Tossing the empty glass vial to the ground, it shatters with a satisfying crunch. I pull out a pack of cigarettes, placing one between my lips as I light it. The first inhale is like fire in my lungs, the perfect complement to the fire I'm about to start. I exhale, my head falling back on my shoulders as I watch the smoke curl up into the night sky. Taking another drag, I flick the butt onto the hood of the car.

The tiny flame ignites the thick oil sheen, lighting up the hood of his precious vintage Mustang.

Turning, my heels click on the pavement as I make my way inside the busy bar. The music is thumping, people are dancing, and for a moment, I can almost forget the chaos waiting outside. Taking a seat at the bar, I order a shot of Fireball from the male bartender Lennox was talking to the other night. When he hands it to me, I nonchalantly tell him, "There's a car on fire out front." before tossing the shot back. I wince at the burn as it glides down my throat.

He stiffens, his eyes snapping behind me to the back of the bar. Turning in my barstool, my gaze lands on Lennox through a sea of people just as he's walking through the swinging kitchen doors. We lock eyes, but there's something different in Lennox's gaze tonight—something more uneasy.

He's concerned. Good.

I turn back to the bartender, handing him the small shot glass.

"Hit me again," I say, "this time, make it a double," I add with a wink.

His hands are steady as he pours, but his eyes keep darting to the back of the bar where I'm sure Lennox is making his way toward me. He slides the glass across the bar to me, and I down it in one go, the burn a welcome distraction from the chaos in my head. Lennox is working his way through the crowd now. The sound of his shouts telling people to move and get out of his way somehow reaching my ears over the DJ's music.

I can feel his distress radiating across the room, but as I turn in my barstool, my eyes find him again, and I hold my ground, staring him down.

He reaches the bar, and the tension between us is palpable as he boxes me in with his arms. Each one gripping the bar behind me tightly. "What the hell did you do, Stevie?" he growls, his voice low and dangerous. At first, I'm caught off guard by his use of my name, but then I assume Lennox has told him about me.

I mean, clearly he's obsessed, so of course his co-workers know about me.

I lean back, a lazy smile playing on my lips. "Just returning the favor, Lennox. You started this."

"Lennox!" A guy shouts as he rushes in the bar, "Bro, is that your car?"

His eyes flash with fury as he rushes outside.

"You're playing with fire," he says, his voice barely above a whisper behind me.

I laugh, the sound sharp and brittle. "I've always been good at that. He should know."

He rounds the bar, bringing himself to stand in front of me. Taking a step closer, his presence looms over me. "You don't understand what you've done. That car belonged to his parents. It's one of the only things he has left of them,"

"Oh, well, that just makes this so much better," I reply, my voice cool and calm. "He messed with my life. Now I'm messing with his."

Shaking his head with disapproval, he heads back behind the bar, joining the female, who's handling the customers on her own.

The bar around me seems to fade away, the music and chatter turning into a distant hum. I toss back another shot, slamming the small glass on the bar as the burning liquid glides down my throat. Pulling out a twenty, I smack it down on the counter. "Have a good evening, you two," I add before pushing myself from the barstool and heading out of the bar.

Outside, there is chaos, with people screaming and shouting. Bright lights and fire trucks fill the street. Everyone is trying to put out the fire I started in Lennox's car. In the panic, I manage to slip away without being noticed.

I walk in silence, the city around me a blur of lights and shadows. My mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, but after seeing Lennox's reaction tonight and learning what the car meant to him, one thing is clear—this is far from over.

Reaching my apartment, I head through the courtyard gate and unlock the large sliding door. Grim meows, jumping down from his cat tree along the wall to greet me. Kicking off my heels, I sink onto the couch. The weight of the night settles over me as I close my eyes, letting the exhaustion take over.

I won't lie. Part of me feels regret for damaging his car, knowing what it meant to him—knowing it's all he's got left of his family. But he deserved it, especially after the damage he's caused me. Whether he was aware of it or not, what he did at the shop sealed my fate.

I should be scared of his retaliation, nervous for whatever comes next. But I'm not. Nothing Lennox can do will be worse than what will happen when Sweet Dreams gets their hands on me.

As I drift off to sleep, the last thing I see is the flicker of panic in Lennox's eyes as he rushes outside. Tonight, I took our game to a whole new level.

And now, with both Lennox and Sweet Dreams waging war against me, I'm not sure it's one I can survive.