Chapter 26

*Elena*

"Sydney, come over; bring food and ice cream. I just returned today and haven't been downstairs to check the fridge, so I'm unsure what we have down there."

"I'm on my way." I hung up and turned up Elastic Heart, which I'd had on repeat for the last half hour.

Sydney turned up about an hour or so later, but I was caught up in working on the ditty that had popped into my head after reading some of the crap online and didn't really notice the time. We exchanged hugs and small talk about what we'd both been up to since we last met before getting down to business.

"I guess you saw."

"I saw, but you know, I don't believe half of what these things say. Since I was away for so long and you were here, why don't you tell me what's really been going on."

"Actually, it's pretty accurate since it all played out online. Though the original post was taken down, someone screenshotted and reposted it, and all hell broke loose."

"Yeah, I was afraid of that. I was hoping it was another one of those things that were blown out of proportion."

"Nope. I personally think she's mad because Ryder followed you to Europe and hasn't been home in months. They tried telling everyone that he was in some rehab somewhere, but no one can verify that so far, so basically, I think that she thinks you two were together."

"I haven't seen him, I promise you."

"I know that, but try telling that to those idiots out there. Since you said you've been reading about it, you must know that things are getting really heated. People have yet to get over the fat shaming thing, and now this. I don't think they're going to let it go that easily."

"I wish they would because this is only going to cause me more grief. I've already asked my fans not to engage, but there isn't much I can do beyond that. Now, I have her fans on my ass again, like I stole something from them. When will it end?"

"Some of them are saying that you have a victim complex."

"It's not a complex when it's real. Tell them to look up the definition and get back to me. I've never acted like anything other than what I am. I went away for many years to give myself time to heal. I was broken in front of the whole world, and though I was pissed beyond compare, not once have I confronted anyone, and I've gone out of my way to be fair when some asshole brought it up in an interview. What more do they want from me?"

"I wonder if these people ever heard about truth and facts. I also wonder about the ones who hate me so much; what exactly is their reasoning behind that hate? What's more, I dare any of them to handle this exact same situation better than I have. Would they have been happy if I'd spilled my blood for all the world to see?"

"What is it exactly that I'm guilty of? Hmm? It's not just my fans who saw what was done to me. It's every man and woman of any age who saw this shit play out. If they have a heart and a conscience, then they'd understand. It's not my fault that people think what was done to me is shitty because the fuck it is. What're you looking at?"

"You, you finally sound like your old self."

This bitch! I thought I was sounding like myself this whole past year. "What did I sound like before? I mean, after I got my shit together."

"It was you or some version of you. But there was always this sadness surrounding you that was breaking my heart. I'm glad to see you getting rightfully upset and not making excuses for those monsters. So, tell me, how are we going to destroy the enemy?"

"That's why I called you over. I have an idea; you may not like it."

"What is it? Tell me."

"Nothing, I'm not going to do a thing."

"Wait, what? But isn't that what you've been doing all along?"

"Not quite. You see, before, I was doing nothing for myself either; I was just existing and not really living."

"So, what's going to be different this time?"

"This time, this time, I'm going to live. Haven't you noticed? When I do nothing, they make fun of me, start shit online, and who knows what they do and say about me behind closed doors. This time I'm going to do plenty, and I'm not going to hide anymore. I'm not going to lose any more of myself to this."

"I'm still not understanding what you're going to do. It doesn't sound like anyone's going to be bleeding out on the pavement or in a dark alley somewhere."

This girl. "It's like this. I had some time to read over everything that's been happening. Not just with this last attack, but with everything that has been going on while I had my head buried in the sand, and I noticed a pattern."

"I've watched hours of YouTube videos about how I'm being stalked, how my every move is being replicated. Everyone thinks it's harmless, but according to the legends I grew up hearing about from my nana, the shit sounds more like a Skinwalker situation to me. Like this witch wants to be me."

"The fuck is a Skinwalker? You mean like the movie?"

"Look it up."

"You still haven't told me what it is that you're going to do, chicklet."

"There's something else I learned from my nana. Allow your enemies their space to hate. They will destroy themselves in the process."

"So, what's the plan?"

"Kill them with kindness! That's something else I learned. I'm also in a better place. So even though their barbs sting, it's not as bad as it once was. Only in the world, we live in can the victim be condemned time and again for doing absolutely nothing."

"I'm still unsure what you're talking about, but I'm down with whatever. Personally, I think we should cut the brakes on one of those fast cars of his and send his ass off a cliff."

"Sydney, no. We won't be doing that. Here, look at this." I tossed her my journal, where I'd been scribbling for the last few hours while I was thinking up a plan.

"What's this?"

"It's going to be my new single. There's a coded message in there. The one who it's for will hear it and understand."

"What message? I don't see anything?"

"It's a message of forgiveness. Maybe once he hears it, he'll be able to move on, and so would she. Because, quite frankly, I'm over the bullshit already."

"Speaking of which, guess who's been asking for you?"

"Evan Thorpe."

"Really?"

"Yeah, you know he digs you."

"Yeah, and you and he both know that I'm not interested in him that way."

"So, he just wants to have dinner or something, hang out, platonically, of course."

She picked up her phone with a devilish look on her face. "What're you doing?"

"I'm kicking off this goodwill tour of yours. If you're out and about with a hot young star, they'll think you're dating, and maybe Miss. Insecure can jump off your ass."

"You don't get it. She is not going to care who I date. As long as I'm breathing, she won't be at peace."

"You're starting to scare me. What is it exactly that you think she's going to do?"

"That's just it. I don't know how deep her obsession runs or how dangerous she is. Maybe you're right. Maybe going out with someone else will help take the heat off."

I rushed to add on that last bit because she was really starting to look spooked, and that was not my intention. I plastered a smile on my face to put her at ease. "Good, you better look hot as hell tonight. Maybe I should call the paparazzi and give them a heads-up. Nah, that's for tacky bitches who have no real swag and have to buy every damn thing, including their fame."

"Sydney, if you don't behave, I'll go back into hiding again."

"Fine-fine, calm down." She made the call to Evan before passing it to me, and I spent the next five minutes explaining to one of the hottest men on the market that I wasn't interested in anything more than a night out on the town.

He sounded convinced, and there was no hint of subterfuge, so I gave in and accepted his invitation to dinner the next night. I hung up and stuck my tongue out at Sydney, who was smiling at me like a proud mama.

"There, you happy?"

"Yes. Now let's go find you something to wear."

"The food's gonna get cold." I looked over at the mountain of bags she'd brought with her and wondered about the melting ice cream.

"Shit, I forgot. Let's eat, and then we're gonna go raid your closet."

She'd brought enough food to feed an army, and they were all my favorites. I didn't know where to start, so we started digging into everything until we were as stuffed as toads and too heavy to move. "Come on, get up." She got to her feet and helped me up with my outstretched hand.

We headed for the closet, and I felt a tiny spark of excitement. We were in there forever because Miss. Picky couldn't make up her mind on what I should wear on my perfectly innocent night out. That's where we were when Rachel walked in, asking what we were up to.

"I'm going on a date."

"A date? With who?" I wasn't in the mood for her naysaying. I was already having second and third thoughts about going out instead of staying home with a tub of ice cream, and one wrong word could get me to do just that.

"That would be none of your business. Now run along and try to remember your job title. You're her assistant, not her keeper. Or are you?" Oh dear, not this again. These two just can't ever seem to get along. I smiled at Rachel to let her know that I was okay, and she left unwillingly.

I went back to looking for the perfect outfit that said innocent date out with a friend, and then I caught myself worrying about what Ryder would think about this. When am I going to stop putting him first? When am I going to start thinking of my own happiness and forget about his?

Out of spite for myself, I chose something that was less risqué than something I'd have worn if I was trying to impress but perfect enough to send the message that I was not bothered and I was ready to go on with my life.

"Oh wow, that's beautiful." She had that suspicious smile on her face again, and I almost balked. Who knows what's going through that head of hers? I spent the rest of the night lying awake, staring at the ceiling and feeling guilty as hell. This soul mate thing is killer, especially when your mate rage married a maniac and sent your life spiraling into purgatory.

***

*Janie*

***One Day Earlier***

"I bet she sees it and knows it's about her. Ha-ha, that was priceless, one of the best ideas we've had. No one knows for sure that it's aimed at her, but I bet she will." I was feeling better than I had in weeks. There was still no sign of Ryder, no one knows if he's dead or alive, but they're not ready to get the police involved just yet.

We have our own private investigators working on it, and since his body hadn't turned up anywhere, we pretty much all agreed that he's probably not dead. We know he's not with her either because the people we have watching her haven't seen him anywhere near her or in the city at all.

His mother claims she hasn't seen him, and though I'm apt to believe her since I'd made sure to put a wedge between the two of them, we weren't taking any chances, so we had someone on her periodically as well. This little victory wasn't much, but it was something; at least it had helped relieve some of the stress I was feeling.

I was ready to pull my hair out when Noel called and said her mother had another idea, and since it involved making Elena's life miserable, I was all for it. I will never get over the fact that he'd gone to see her after going missing for so long. It led me to believe that he had indeed gone to see her in the hospital.

And then the story of that stupid picture broke, and it was all anyone could talk about for months. With him being gone from the public eye, it only added credence to the stupid rumors that they were together and that there was trouble in our marriage. All my hard work was slowly going down the drain, and everyone around me seemed to hold me responsible when it wasn't my fault.

No one was doing anything to help other than passing around blame, and things were just falling apart until now. This was giving me life, and for once, Noel, Nicole, and their mother were in better spirits as well.

"Hold on a minute; someone else is on the other line; maybe it's Ryder." I get this feeling each time the phone rings, and then the disappointment is almost unbearable when it's someone else on the line.

"Hello."

"Hello, Janie Stevens. Did you know that everyone who works gets paid?"

"What? Who is this? What does that mean? And the name is Sumner." The person on the line made a disparaging sound, which raised my hackles.

"Who I am is not important. What it means is that everyone is paid for the work they do."

"I still don't understand. Is this about a modeling job? Just call my agent." I started to hang up the phone because I'd been fielding offers all day ever since the post went viral, as we hoped it would.

Not that there was any doubt that it would. Nicole was there, and everyone knew that anything with her or any of her sisters in it was like a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Besides, I have an agent to deal with this mess. I went to hang up but was cut short.

"I wouldn't hang up if I were you. And no, this is not about a modeling job. This is about all the work you've been doing against Elena. Your payment day is here."

"Who are you? How did you get this number, you little bitch?"

"Keep watching."

The line went dead as a cold shiver ran down my spine. I've had threats before. There are a lot of stupid little bitches dreaming about being with my husband, but this one sounded different. And none had ever come through on my private line.

I was about to switch back over to the girls, but a notification went off on my phone, and when I saw the picture in the thumbnail, I froze. What?