Breaking the Rules

Chapter 39

Grace sat cross-legged on her bed, the dim glow of her bedside lamp casting elongated shadows that seemed to sway ominously on the walls. The silence of the house was thick, oppressive, like a suffocating blanket. She could hear nothing but the faint hum of the fridge downstairs, the occasional creak of wood settling in the night, and the erratic thud of her own heartbeat pounding in her ears.

She clutched her phone tightly in her hands, the smooth glass screen smeared with fingerprints from the number of times she'd picked it up and put it back down, unable to focus on anything but the dread that seemed to curl in the pit of her stomach. Elliot was still in the hospital, barely recovered from the vicious attack, and the cryptic texts continued to haunt her every moment.

It was almost worse now that the texts had stopped—an eerie calm before the storm. Whoever had sent them, whoever had beaten Elliot half to death, wasn't finished. They were simply waiting. And the waiting was driving her mad.

She turned her phone over in her hands, the screen dark and lifeless. She had no idea what her next move should be. She couldn't just sit there in her room, waiting for the next message, the next attack. But how was she supposed to fight back against something she barely understood? Elliot had shielded her from his past, his secrets, thinking it was the right thing to do. But in doing so, he had left her vulnerable, unarmed, and scared.

Grace had always been the type of person who faced her fears head-on. She wasn't someone who waited for life to happen to her; she went out and made her own path. And yet, here she was, trapped in the crosshairs of a battle she didn't understand, fighting an enemy she couldn't see.

Her thoughts kept returning to Elliot's bruised and battered face, lying unconscious in that sterile hospital room. She couldn't abandon him, not after everything they had been through. But how could she protect him—and herself—if she didn't know what she was up against?

And then there was Madison.

Grace had felt her frustration bubbling up the moment she had called her friend the night before. Madison had been so insistent, so sure that Elliot was dangerous, and that Grace was in over her head. But why? Why had Madison been so adamant, almost from the beginning, that Elliot was no good? She had told Grace over and over to stay away from him, but it wasn't just concern for Grace's safety. There was something deeper in Madison's voice, something personal.

Grace had never truly trusted Madison. She realized now that they had never been real friends—at least, not in the way that mattered. Their friendship had always felt transactional, like Madison had been tolerating her, like she was doing Grace a favor by letting her into her world. In hindsight, Grace could see the cracks in the foundation. Madison had always been the queen bee, the girl everyone wanted to be around, but there had always been an undercurrent of competition between them. Madison had always liked having the upper hand, the power, and Grace had never quite fit into the role of a loyal follower.

It was a long-buried truth, one that Grace had only been vaguely aware of, but now it felt glaringly obvious. They had tolerated each other more out of convenience than any real affection. Madison had never truly liked Grace—maybe even resented her for something Grace hadn't yet figured out.

Maybe it was Elliot.

Grace stared at the phone in her hands again, her mind swirling with questions. There was something Madison wasn't telling her, something more to her warnings about Elliot. Was it jealousy? Fear? Or did Madison know something about Elliot that Grace didn't? Grace's gut told her it was the latter. Madison had sounded scared—not for herself, but for Grace. And that terrified Grace more than she was willing to admit.