Faked Disappearance, Real Love's End

Holly Baxter's POV

From that night on, whenever I gave the signal, Keegan was there.

A simple text or a call, and he would arrive within minutes. We established an extraordinary rhythm, an intimacy far deeper than anything I'd ever had with Beckham.

His height, stamina, and presence made the whole experience vastly more enjoyable.

I felt a twinge of regret that I hadn't made this decision sooner, instead wasting so much time on Beckham.

I carefully deleted any incriminating chat logs from his phone. I regularly "borrowed" his phone to check the group chat, keeping myself updated on their schemes.

I stopped searching for Beckham. My anxiety dissipated right along with it.

Beckham, however, was starting to panic.

He texted the group: "Has anyone heard from Holly? She hasn't called in days."

"Maybe she's just tired," Servant 1 replied.

"No way. Holly would keep looking no matter how tired she is. Something must be wrong. Should I go back?"

Kiara shot back: "Don't you dare, Beckham! She's probably just trying to provoke you. Let her suffer a little longer."

Beckham: "Fine."

Later that night, Keegan's phone rang with an unknown number.

Keegan and I were in the middle of making out.

I leaned over, answered the call myself, and held the phone to Keegan's ear.

"Hey, man, how's it going? Is Holly doing okay?" Beckham's voice came through.

"She's... fine," Keegan said, his voice husky.

"Dude, is there a girl with you? You sound weird."

"No, it's just... a movie."

I leaned close to Keegan's ear and whispered, "Keegan, focus. You're getting distracted."

Dead silence.

Then Beckham's voice suddenly erupted: "Keegan?! Who the hell are you with?!"