Stuck with YOU || BECKFREEN/FREENBECK STORY

Chapter 59

Author's POV

Rebecca froze, her hands gripping the edge of the bed. Her eyes were wide, her lips parted slightly in disbelief. "F-Freen... your father? Your father is...?"

"Yes," Freen whispered, shaking her head, trying to steady herself. "It's him. He's behind everything."

Rebecca took a cautious step closer, careful not to touch the frail mother still asleep in the next room. "But... why? I mean... he's your father. How could he—"

"Because I know the truth," Freen interrupted sharply. Her voice was low, tight with fury and fear. "The crimes he's committed... only I know. Only I could expose him. Only I could ruin him. And he can't risk that."

Rebecca's breathing hitched. She struggled to understand the magnitude of what Freen was saying. "Freen... are you saying... he wants to kill you?"

Freen's hands trembled as she gripped the bathroom counter. She swallowed, trying to force words out without breaking. "Yes. That night... the crash... the janitor... the messages... it was him orchestrating everything. Trying to scare me. Trying to make me vanish quietly before I could tell anyone."

Rebecca shook her head, disbelief and terror mixing in her eyes. "But... he's... rich. Powerful. Dangerous. And we're... just us."

"Yes," Freen admitted. Her jaw tightened, eyes blazing with controlled fury. "That's why we have to be careful. Mom... you... me... we can't trust anyone."

Rebecca's hands clenched into fists. "Then we fight. We don't run. We fight him." Her voice was resolute, though there was an undercurrent of fear.

Freen shook her head slightly. "It's not that simple. He has people everywhere. Surveillance. Cameras. Security—fake or real—he knows how to find me. He knows what I know, and he'll stop at nothing to protect his secrets. And..." She paused, her voice barely audible. "...and he's clever. He doesn't always act directly. Sometimes it's... indirect. Accidents. Collateral damage. People disappear. People die quietly. That's why the janitor was... well... dead."

Rebecca's eyes widened. "Jay Reyes... he was... warning you?"

Freen nodded slowly, swallowing hard. "He must have known what my father was planning. He... he didn't want me to die, so he tried to protect me, even if it meant... showing himself in ways I didn't understand. But he's gone now. Four months... dead. And my father... he's still here. And he's watching."

Rebecca's face paled. Her voice shook slightly. "Freen... what do we do? How do we stop him?"

Freen stared at the floor, hands shaking slightly. She felt a rush of anger, frustration, and helplessness washing over her all at once. "We survive. We protect Mom. We protect ourselves. We don't let him corner us. And... we gather evidence. Proof. Anything that can take him down if... if it comes to that."

Rebecca reached out, taking Freen's hands in hers. "Then we do it together. I'm not letting you face this alone."

Freen felt her chest tighten at those words. She wanted to cry, wanted to scream, wanted to throw herself into Rebecca's arms—but the adrenaline still coursing through her veins kept her from fully relaxing. They needed a plan. They needed information. They needed to move fast.

Suddenly, Freen's phone buzzed again.

She froze, glancing at the screen.

Unknown Number:
We know you're awake, Sarocha.

Her breath caught. Rebecca instinctively leaned closer. "It's him," Freen whispered. "It's him watching us. He knows I know."

Rebecca's jaw tightened. "Then we hit first. We don't wait for him to strike again."

Freen nodded slowly, though doubt gnawed at her. "We need to be careful. He's not just my father. He's a predator. He'll use anyone. Any weakness. And..." Her voice lowered, trembling slightly. "...and he's patient. Very patient. He'll wait. Watch. Strike at the perfect moment."

Rebecca wrapped her arms around Freen tightly. "Then we make sure that moment never comes."

Freen took a deep breath. She felt the adrenaline shift into focus. Her hands stopped shaking slightly. Fear was still there, but anger replaced some of it. Her father's crimes had haunted her for years, and now he was threatening her life directly. She couldn't run anymore. She wouldn't.

They spent the next few minutes whispering, plotting small steps. They decided on immediate precautions: stay home tonight, no phone use without privacy filters, check all exits, set up cameras, and alert trusted friends only.

Rebecca asked quietly, "Do we tell your mother?"

Freen shook her head. "Not yet. Not until we know what he's capable of. She's recovering. We can't put her in danger."

Rebecca nodded, though the worry in her eyes was palpable. "Then we do it right. We protect her. And us. No mistakes."

⸻

Hours passed. The house was silent except for the occasional hum of the refrigerator and the muted ticking of a wall clock. Freen sat in the living room, knees pulled close, staring at her laptop. She scrolled through files, checking her father's known activities, cross-referencing business records, and piecing together any clue about his recent actions.

Rebecca joined her, quietly sliding into the seat beside her. "We'll figure it out," she said softly, leaning her head on Freen's shoulder. "We always do."

Freen exhaled slowly, letting herself rest against Rebecca for a moment. But her mind raced. Her father's reach was long. His cunning unmatched. The crash, the SUV following her, the men at the hospital—it wasn't random. Every move she made, every action was under surveillance.

A faint creak upstairs made both women freeze.

Freen's eyes darted toward the stairs. "Did you hear that?" she whispered.

Rebecca nodded slightly, gripping Freen's hand. "Yes."

They didn't move immediately. They waited, listening.

Nothing.

Freen felt a chill run down her spine. Her father's presence wasn't physical yet—but it was palpable. He was near. Always watching. Always calculating.

Her phone buzzed again.

Unknown Number:
You can't hide from me forever, Sarocha.

Freen's chest tightened. Her hands clenched the edge of the table. "He's taunting me now," she whispered.

Rebecca's lips pressed into a thin line. "Then we don't respond. We make the next move."

Freen nodded. This time, the fear was tempered with determination. Her father had underestimated her for years. But he had never faced the full force of her resolve.

Tonight, they would start preparing. Tonight, the hunt would begin.

But deep down, Freen knew one thing:

Her father would not stop.
He could not.
Because she was the only one who could expose him.

And he would do anything to silence her.