Bully stepbrother

69. Accused by Alexa, a bot

CADEN

The stanky neighbor who just brought that rotten-bean stench to my nose is there. I don't notice him while I'm with Mad; he must have been creeping on us, but he makes sure I see him once her vehicle pulls away, and I'm heading back into the building.

My whole mood drops. The last time I saw him, his face was all over Mad, and now he has the nerve to meet my eyes. Maybe he doesn't need them anymore.

"What are you looking at, Columbus? Shouldn't you be looking at colognes?" I raise a brow, trying to make sense of this whole situation.

He frowns tightly but doesn't say a word, and just continues toward the backyard.

That's what I think. Though a little part of me wishes he talked back, I already have him written down in my death note, right below Kane Estaben, from the moment I told him to simply leave Mad alone, and he went ahead, took the extra scene, and made her cry.

Maybe I should release the video of him crying out the apology, or maybe I should just punch the bastard in the face.

My legs want to turn and follow him, but then there's this part of me that keeps reminding me of the better version of myself that Mad deserves. Reagan says I should listen to that part all the time.

Reagan.

I need to call her.

I race back to the apartment and grab my phone, and only when it's already ringing do my eyes catch on the clock. It's almost midnight, and I'm calling a married woman.

She'll understand, anyway. She says I can call anytime.

"Caden?" she answers, her voice hoarse. "Are you okay?"

"Reagan, I'm not going to kill myself. Life is too good right now, and even if it isn't, I never lose hope," I say, deadpan. She's been treating me like I'm going to shatter lately, ever since I told her about that episode after Mad left.

That wasn't me. I was at my absolute bottom, and it isn't something I would ever really do. I'd rather walk to Mount Everest from Palo Alto on foot and die on the way than hurt myself. That's just so wrong, because then Dad and Mom win, Cara will be disappointed, and I lose the chance for great things to happen in my future, like Mad moving back into the apartment and having the version of me I want to share with her. There are so many things to live through and write down in my journal for the future.

"I'm glad you're not," she says. "So why are you calling me at midnight?"

"She said we can be together," I blurt, and it doesn't sound anything like how Mad puts it. "Well, not together officially, but we can be close. She's going to unblock me."

"Madison? You saw her?" Reagan's voice jumps with surprise.

"I asked her to dinner, and she came."

"How did you meet with her?"

It isn't easy. "I stalked her, as usual," I admit, with a cock of my head.

"I knew it," she accuses, and I wince, bracing for her impending scolding. "Caden, do you hear yourself? Listen. Alexa, is stalking good or bad?" she calls, and I roll my eyes.

I, stalking Mad, is literally harmless. I understand it's bad and dangerous in most cases, but I would never hurt her. I will kill a fly that touches her. I'm only dedicated to following her mostly because we live where Kane can pounce at any moment, and he is not taking Mad from me.

The technology answers, "Stalking is an intrusive and damaging crime, with varied psychological torture, traumatic effects, and physical and practical impacts on victims from repeated and unwanted contact by perpetrators that cause victims to experience fear for their safety. It is most dangerous when it occurs as part of an abusive relationship. An attempt to end an abusive relationship can cause an abuser to become more possessive, which may lead to stalking. Three out of ten college women suffer emotional or psychological injury from being stalked."

I think I have seen and heard it all, but now I'm a perpetrator, accused of being an abuser by Alexa, a bot.

"What the hell, Reagan?"

"Okay, stalking her is borderline abuse, Caden. You want my help, and I'm helping you realize your habit of stalking Madison is not a normal thing," she says it so calmly, like my heart isn't burning.

I swear I don't follow Mad to hurt her mental health or anything.

"You won't understand," I grumble.

"No, I do. I understand she's the one person who matters most to you, and you've been doing so well, changing into the best version of yourself so that maybe someday she'll see it. But you need to maintain your growth for that, Caden." Her voice softens into a plea, and I try my best to breathe gently, but the bile in my throat is strong.

"I will. I just wanted to make her breakfast. What should I do?"

"Nothing, Caden. Just don't crawl back into your darkness. She wants the best for you, and so do I."

"I want that too."

"Good. We're all on the same page. Now tell me, how do you feel about this conversation?" she asks carefully, and my gaze goes distant.

"I'm angry. At myself, and you, and..." mostly Kane, and every driver who turns me into this perpetrator to the girl I lo -

Shut up, Caden.

"I've got to go," I blurt, my chest beating fast at the uncompleted thought.

"Caden?" Reagan calls, but I hang up so quickly, I can't bear another thought.

I drag my hand through my hair, my eyes burning as I look around the apartment, looking for something to distract me. They land on the table.

Yeah. The dishes. I should do them.