chapter SIXTEEN
Reese
T he sight of my room stops me cold in the doorway.
It's not the destruction I was expecting, but it's bad enough.
Drawers pulled out and left hanging open, contents spilling onto the floor.
My closet door gapes wide, clothes yanked off hangers and tossed carelessly back inside.
Books scattered across my desk instead of neatly stacked.
My bed stripped completely, sheets and comforter in a tangled heap on the floor.
Even my trash can has been emptied and rifled through.
Someone spent time here. Methodical, invasive time. And they left the door wide open when they finished, like they wanted it to be discovered.
"Jesus," Gray breathes behind me. He followed me up after talking to campus security, his presence a solid anchor in this moment of surreal violation.
I step into the room, trying to catalog what might be missing, what they might have been looking for. My laptop is still here, though it's been moved. My textbooks, jewelry, even the small amount of cash I keep in my desk drawer are all untouched.
But my suppressants case is gone.
My heart lurches as I check the inner pocket of my toiletry bag where I always keep my backup supply. Empty. They found it. Whoever did this now has physical proof of what I am.
"Anything missing?" Gray asks, watching me carefully.
"No," I lie, forcing my voice to stay steady. "Just... messy."
The note is exactly where Gray said it would be. On my pillow, stark white against my navy bedding. I read it again, the words hitting differently now that I'm standing in my violated space:
*Last warning. Stay away from Riverside or everyone finds out what you really are.*
"The RA changed your lock," Gray says, holding up a new key card. "But Reese, you can't stay here tonight. Not after this."
I nod, my words sticking in my throat. The room feels contaminated now, no longer safe. No longer mine.
"Pack a bag," Gray continues, his captain voice gentle but firm. "I'm getting you a hotel room."
"Gray, I can't let you do that."
"It's not a request,” he says with that hard Alpha edge of his. "Someone violated your personal space. Threatened you directly. The team takes care of its own."
Twenty minutes later, I've packed enough clothes and toiletries for several days, carefully avoiding looking at the empty space where my suppressants used to be.
Gray carries my bag downstairs while I lock the room behind us, though the gesture feels pointless now. They already got what they came for.
The rain has briefly stopped, leaving the night air crisp and clean.
Gray's Range Rover sits in the parking lot, black and pristine.
As he loads my bag into the back, I realize this is the first time I've been in a vehicle with him.
The first time I've been anywhere with him, really, outside of team activities.
"There's a Hawthorne Inn about ten minutes from campus," he says as we pull out of the parking lot. "Clean, safe, good security. I've already called and reserved a room."
"For how long?"
"However long you need." He glances at me as we stop at a red light. "This isn't just about tonight, Reese. Whoever did this escalated things. They're not going to stop just because you're staying somewhere else."
The certainty in his voice makes my stomach clench. He's right, of course. This isn't going away.
We drive in silence for several minutes, the campus lights blurring past my window. I should feel grateful for Gray's help, for his immediate response to protect me. Instead, I feel trapped by it. Another layer of complication in an already impossible situation.
"Why don't you have a car?" Gray asks suddenly.
The question is shocking enough to drag me out of my thoughts. "What?"
"Most students have cars, especially ones from... backgrounds like yours." He says it carefully, acknowledging my family's wealth without making it sound like an accusation. "You walk everywhere, catch rides with teammates. Just seems unusual."
I stare out the passenger window, weighing how much truth I can afford to share. "The campus is small. Everything in town is within walking distance. It didn't seem necessary."
It's not entirely a lie, but it's not the whole truth either.
The whole truth is that my parents have tracking devices in all their vehicles.
A security measure, they claim, though I know it's really about control.
If I had my car on campus, they'd know exactly where I am at all times.
They'd have discovered my transfer to Sable Ridge within days.
"Makes sense," Gray says, but there's something in his tone that suggests he doesn't entirely buy my explanation.
The Hampton Inn appears ahead, its blue and white sign glowing in the darkness. Gray pulls into the parking lot and kills the engine.
"I'll come in with you," he says. "Make sure everything's settled."
"You don't have to do that."
"Reese." He turns to face me fully, steel gray eyes serious. "Someone broke into your room today. Went through your personal belongings. Left a direct threat. I'm not leaving you alone in a hotel lobby at ten PM."
I bite my lip and nod. I know it's just Gray's way of taking care of the team, but it still makes me feel some kind of way. It makes me feel things I really don't need right now.
The check-in process is efficient and anonymous. Exactly what I need right now. Gray handles the payment despite my protests, his black American Express card making the transaction seamless. The desk clerk hands over a key card and parking pass with professional indifference.
"Room 314," Gray reads from the receipt. "Third floor, elevator's around the corner."
The room is standard hotel fare. A single queen bed, small table by the window, bathroom with industrial-grade towels. But it's clean and secure and, most importantly, mine. No one else has a key. No one else can get in.
"Thank you," I say as Gray sets my bag on the luggage rack. "For all of this. I'll pay you back later."
"Don't." His voice is firm. "This isn't a loan, Reese. It's what teammates do for each other."
I study his face, looking for hidden motives or expectations. Gray Lockwood, for all his controlling tendencies, has never asked for anything in return for his help. Never made me feel like I owe him.
"The school might call my parents," I say, the fear finally escaping. "About the incident. They aren't listed as emergency contacts, but I had to give their information on the transfer paperwork."
Gray frowns. "Would that be a problem?"
More than he knows. "They think I'm still at Westlake." The admission slips out before I can stop it.
His eyebrows rise. "They don't know you transferred?"
"It's complicated." I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly feeling exposed. "My family has... expectations. About where I should be, what I should be doing. Transferring mid-season to cox a men's team wouldn't exactly meet with their approval."
"So you've been lying to them for two weeks."
"Avoiding them for two weeks," I correct. "There's a difference."
Gray studies me, and I can practically see him filing away this new information. "That's why you don't want an investigation. Not just because it would draw unwanted attention, but because it might expose the transfer."
I nod, grateful that he understands without me having to spell it out completely.
"I'll talk to Coach Bennett," Gray says. "Make sure any official reports list me as the primary contact. Your parents don't need to know about tonight unless you want them to."
Relief floods through me. "You can do that?"
"I'm the team captain. It's within my authority to designate myself as liaison for team-related incidents." He moves toward the door, then pauses. "Reese? Whatever your family situation is, whatever they expect from you. You have a place on this team. That's not conditional on their approval."
The words settle something inside me I didn't realize was unsettled. How long has it been since anyone said I belonged somewhere without conditions attached?
“So I guess that means I passed your test?”
His lips curl in an almost-smile that make my stomach twist. “Reese, you passed on the first day when you put me in my place like you'd been doing it for years.”
My face flushes hot and I have to bite my lip again to keep from doing something stupid. Like throwing my arms around his neck and kissing him.
"Get some sleep," Gray continues. "I'll pick you up on the morning for practice."
After he leaves, I lock the door and flip the security latch, then lean against it as everything finally catches up with me. Someone went through my personal belongings. Stole my backup suppressants. Knows exactly what I am and is using it against me.
But Gray put me in a safe place. Protected me without asking questions I couldn't answer. Offered to shield me from my family's reaction.
I sink onto the bed, pulling out my phone to check for missed calls. Three from my mother, two from my father. All within the past hour. My heart pounds as I realize what this means. Somehow, they already know something's wrong.
The phone rings in my hand, my mother's number flashing on the screen. For a moment, I consider letting it go to voicemail again. But avoiding this conversation will only make it worse.
"Hi, Mom."
"Reese, thank God. We've been trying to reach you all evening." Her voice carries that particular note of maternal anxiety that I know all too well. "Are you alright? We heard there was some kind of incident at school."
My blood runs cold. "What kind of incident?"
"Something about a break-in? Your father got a call from someone at Westlake's administration office, but the details were very unclear."
Westlake. Someone called from Westlake, not Sable Ridge. Which means either there's been a miscommunication, or someone's deliberately trying to create problems.