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They guide me away from the chaos of the crime scene to sit on the front steps, flanking me on either side like protective shields. The familiar comfort of my best friends helps ground me, makes me feel less like I’m drowning.

“Tell us everything,” Aspen says, taking my hand.

I give them the condensed version. The photo at work, the ones on my phone, Matt’s increasingly erratic behavior, his explosive confrontation here. They already know about the incident at the Halloween party. With each detail, their expressions grow darker.

“Jesus,” Callie mutters when I finish. “I knew Matt was a dick but he’s completely lost it.”

“I don’t know if it’s really him though.” The words come out shaky. “I mean, I think it is, but what if it’s not? What if it’s some random person?”

“Who else would it be?” Aspen asks gently. “You said so yourself he’s been acting strange since the breakup.”

“I know, but . . .” I scrub my hands over my face, trying to make sense of it all. “Matt can be a jackass, sure. He’s selfish and mean and probably a narcissist. But this? Killing an animal? I don’t think he’s capable of that.”

Callie shakes her head. “Maybe he’s always been this level of crazy and you didn’t see it.”

How many red flags did I ignore during our relationship? How many times did I rationalize his behavior or convince myself things would get better?

“Plus, he made a huge scene at Gage’s job site the other day,” Cole’s voice makes us all look up. He’s approaching with Gage and Hudson behind him, their faces grim. “Got himself fired for being a complete asshole.”

This is news to me. I’m a little hurt they didn’t tell me, but it quickly fades away. I didn’t tell them about the texts because I didn’t want to unnecessarily worry them. They were probably doing the same for me.

“What happened?” I ask, though I’m not sure I want to know.

Gage runs a hand through his hair, jaw tight. “He showed up and started changing the plans for the house we’re renovating. When I told him to stop, he went ballistic. Started calling you . . .” He pauses, glancing at Callie and Aspen. “Calling you names I won’t repeat. Carl and I had to remove him, and I ended up firing him.”

“He was completely unhinged,” he adds, sinking down on the step beside me. “Screaming about how we chose you over him.”

Cole shakes his head. “Honestly, I’ve never seen him like this before.”

“As much as I don’t want this to be him,” Hudson says with a heavy exhale. “I think it is.”

My heart sinks. Matt’s been spiraling for weeks. I’ve been too focused on my own life to really see it. Or maybe I didn’t want to see it. It’s easier to pretend your ex is being dramatic than to accept that he might actually be dangerous or the fact that I might become another statistic. Male fragility is toxic as hell.

“Do you really think he could do something like this?” I gesture toward the crime scene tape.

“I think Matt’s capable of a lot more than we gave him credit for,” Gage says darkly. “The question is why.”

“Well for starters, he’s a narcissistic piece of shit who can’t handle rejection,” Callie says bluntly. “He’s pissed that Lily moved on and found something better. So now he’s trying to punish her for it.”

The thought makes my skin crawl. This is what it comes down to? Him trying to terrorize me because I dared to be happy without him?

“But why kill an innocent animal?” The words come out as barely a whisper. “That’s so cruel.”

None of us have an answer for that. The silence stretches between us, heavy with implications no one wants to voice. If Matt really did this, if he’s escalated to this level of violence and manipulation, then what else might he be capable of?

The short term rental we found is nice enough, but I barely slept last night. Between the guys taking turns checking the locks and everyone jumping at every noise outside, there was no rest. None of us managed more than a few hours of shuteye. By morning, I’m running on adrenaline and the strongest coffee Cole could make.

Walking into the office is like stepping back into a life that doesn’t quite fit anymore. The familiar buzz of phones and hushed client consultations should comfort me, but instead, everything is foreign. Like I’m wearing someone else’s clothes. Parading around like everything is fine when I’m ripping at the seams.

Sarah waves from her desk, her smile faltering when she gets a good look at me. I probably look like I’ve been hit by a truck, which isn’t far from the truth. I don’t doubt that the details from the crime scene are spreading around town, but I’m not sure if it’s reached my coworkers yet. It’s naive to hope that it never will.

She meets me at the coffee pot in the breakroom.

“Morning,” I mumble, filling up a mug with the company’s logo on it and taking a big drink before adding more coffee to the cup.

“Long night?”

“Something like that.” I put on a brave face. “How are you?”