26. Dylan #2
Bear lingers for a beat longer before exhaling sharply.
I can tell he doesn’t want to leave me, but he’s got no excuse to stay.
Not one that wouldn’t give away the fact that we have more than a coach-player relationship.
I offer him a tight smile, the best that I can do.
Without another word, he turns and strides out the door, leaving just me and Ethan in the suddenly too quiet room.
I stare down at my coffee, my pulse thrumming hard in my throat. I hear the sound of Ethan’s footsteps before his sneakers appear in my field of vision. “Thorn?”
I force myself to look at him. His brows are drawn together, his concern unmistakable, but it’s the steadiness in his eyes that almost undoes me. He’s waiting—patient, unwavering—for whatever I have to say.
I swallow hard. “What are we going to do about Kyle?”
His jaw flexes, but he doesn’t answer right away.
I keep going. “He lives in the same house. Under the same roof, and I—I know it was him.” My voice shakes, but I don’t care.
“I haven’t seen him since, and I…” I exhale shakily, my fingers tightening around the cup to the point that I have to force the muscles to relax or spill the hot liquid all over myself.
“I can’t— I don’t know how to face him.”
Ethan swears under his breath before carefully extracting the cup from my trembling grip.
Setting it aside, he clasps my hands in his, engulfing my smaller ones in his large, strong grip.
“You’re not going to be left alone with him for a second, okay?
Not in the house, not in the locker room, not anywhere.
I’ll sleep in that chair right beside your bed every night if I have to. If it means you’re safe.”
“Now you’re starting to sound like Griffin,” I tease, before the weight of the moment settles over me once more. “You can’t keep that up long term.”
“No,” he agrees. “But if Kyle wants you incapacitated so badly, then he’ll make another move. And this time, we’ll catch him.” Ethan’s eyes darken with the depth of his promise.
“And then what?”
When he speaks, his voice is low and lethal. “Then he’s done. Hockey. School. All of it.”
I wake groggily, my limbs heavy, my head swimming from the lingering effects of the painkillers I took earlier. The dull ache in my ribs is still there, a persistent throb under my skin, but it’s more manageable than it was this morning.
My stomach growls. Loudly.
With a sigh, I push myself up, wincing as my body protests the movement. The room is dim, shadows stretching long across the walls. Dusk has fallen while I was asleep, and a glance at the clock tells me it’s early evening.
I force my legs over the edge of the bed, standing slowly as the movement pulls on my bruised skin and battered muscles. The floor is cool beneath my bare feet as I pull on a pair of leggings and fluffy socks, before dragging a baggy hoodie over my head.
Easing open the bedroom door, I listen for any noises in the hall before creeping out and across to the bathroom. The brightness stings my eyes as I turn on the light, before I adjust.
My gaze immediately lands on the mirror hanging above the sink as I shuffle forward. It’s not the first time I’ve seen my reflection today, but I swear every time I do, I look worse.
And I hate what I see.
Splotches of purple and red bleed across my cheek, and the cut along my temple is an angry slash.
A shadow of a bruise colors my jawline, another peeking from the collar of my hoodie.
The harsh light makes everything look particularly gruesome, but it’s not even my red, swollen skin that gets to me.
It’s the fear that has taken up residence in my eyes.
Bruises aren’t new to me—I’ve taken my fair share of hits on the ice. I’m used to dealing with guys who have no problem knocking me around, but that is nothing like last night. They never jumped me. Never had me so afraid for my life that I wasn’t sure if I was going to walk away.
The reflection in the mirror blurs. Memories from the night before creep in, unbidden.
The harsh grip on my arms. The slam of my body against the pavement.
The suffocating terror that stole the air from my lungs as I realized— really realized—I was trapped.
That there was no escape. No way out but through the pain.
My breathing grows erratic, and I squeeze my eyes shut.
Breathe. In. Out.
I will not let them keep me there.
I force my fingers to unclench from the sink. Force my shoulders to loosen as I tear my gaze from the mirror. I do my best to shake off the sticky residue of the memory, ignoring the lingering tremor in my hands as I use the toilet before heading downstairs.
Halfway down, voices drift up from the living room. I slow my steps, stopping just out of sight at the sound of Ethan’s voice.
“…one of us with her at all times when she’s on campus. She shouldn’t have to walk anywhere alone right now.”
“Agreed,” Jax says. “We can split it up. Take shifts to ensure someone is always with her.”
“I’m not worried about when she’s on campus.” My eyebrows climb my forehead at hearing Griffin’s voice. What is he doing here? “What about when she’s here ? There’s no fucking way she’s sleeping beneath the same roof as that fucker.”
“And what do you propose?” Ethan drawls. “That she moves in with you?”
“Exactly.” Unlike the scoff that accompanied Ethan’s words, Griffin is dead serious.
“Wait, what?” Jax chimes in. “Dylan isn’t moving in with you. You don’t even have a spare room. ”
I’m a little bit offended at the fact that they are fighting over me like dogs over a bone.
“Yeah, but Liam or Noah could move in here, and Dylan can take their room.”
Okay, well now I’m even more offended that they are talking about me like I’m a baseball card to trade.
“That seems extreme,” Finn states. “I still don’t believe it was Kyle behind the attack.”
My stomach drops.
Of course, he doesn’t.
I’ve seen how close he and Kyle are. Heard the stories about them attending summer camps together. They’ve known each other since they were little kids.
But just because he’s in denial doesn’t mean it’s not true.
I clutch the railing, listening as the conversation shifts.
“Pull your head out of your ass, Finn.” Griffin sounds like he’s seconds from pulling it out for him. “If you weren’t so busy moon-eyeing your buddy, you’d see the shit he’s pulling.”
“I do not moon-eye Kyle, you fucker. He’s my friend. I know him, and I know he wouldn’t go that far.”
“Then you clearly don’t?—”
The front door swings open.
I freeze, gaze snapping forward.
From where I stand, I have a direct line of sight to the entryway. Kyle steps inside, shaking rain from his hair as he shrugs out of his coat. He turns, his gaze lifting…and landing on me.
The moment our eyes lock, my blood runs cold.
Something dark flashes across his face and his mouth lifts in a cruel tilt, before his eyes drag over me, cataloging the damage. His gaze lingers on every cut, every bruise, like he’s proud of what he did.
My breath catches in my throat. I don’t need to hear the words from his mouth to confirm what I already knew.
He did this to me. I can’t move. Can’t speak.
Fear lashes through me, fast and sharp. It’s a battle to keep my reaction off my face, but I refuse to let him see what his sheer presence does to me.
Kyle Reed won’t take anything else from me.
He steps forward, and I fight the urge to flee, but then he notices the guys in the living room. The shift is instant. His whole demeanor changes, shoulder’s loosening, expression smoothing into something easy and unbothered. He barely even hesitates before flashing a smile.
“What’s up?”
Ethan pushes off the couch, stepping toward him. “Where have you been?” There’s an accusation there. “No one has seen you since last night.”
Kyle snorts. “What is this, the Spanish Inquisition?”
Griffin leans forward, eyes fixed on Kyle. When he speaks, his voice is calm— too calm. “Dylan was attacked outside the arena last night.”
Kyle tilts his head, expression carefully fixed into one of surprise. “Is that so?”
“You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” Griffin’s tone is still neutral, but there’s an edge to it now, sharp enough to cut.
“Me?” Kyle scoffs. “Why would I know anything about that ?” He shrugs. “I was at The Stanley with a few of the guys last night.” A cocky smirk lifts his lips. “Hooked up with some chick. I’d say you could ask her if you want an alibi, but I didn’t exactly catch her name.”
Ewww . I just vomited in my mouth.
“Which guys?” Ethan pushes.
This time, Kyle’s surprise is genuine. “Seriously, man?” His gaze moves over all four of the guys. “You all think I had something to do with that bench bunny getting attacked? ”
“Watch it,” Griffin growls, rising to his feet and prowling closer.
“Finn?” Kyle presses, ignoring Griffin entirely. “You can’t seriously be buying this bullshit?”
I hold my breath as Finn sighs, dragging a hand down his face as though trying to give himself a few minutes to think before he answers. “Just answer the question, Reed. Who were you with last night?”
“This is fucking bullshit,” Kyle sneers, shaking his head. “Not that it’s any of your fucking business, but I was with Andrew, Sam, and Travis.”
“Were Fletcher or Monroe there?” Griffin asks—well, demands would be more accurate.
Kyle throws his hands into the air in protest. “Yeah, I think I remember seeing them at one point. Not like I was following them around all night. Now, are we fucking done here? I need to shower and grab a nap before practice.”
“Yeah.” Ethan exhales, gesturing for Kyle to leave.
With a final glower and a look of disappointment cast Finn’s way, he moves toward the stairs. I hurry to descend the last few steps, wanting to get out of his way. However, before I’m in the clear, he’s there. His arm grazes mine as he brushes past, his fingers just barely ghosting over my side.
Those cold eyes and cruel lips bore into me.
A threat. A promise. A warning.
My throat burns. Ice solidifies in my veins.
He keeps walking like nothing passed between us, meanwhile, I’m frozen in place. Unable to move. To breathe. To think.
Pressure lands on my shoulders, firm but gentle. “Dylan.”
Jax’s voice grounds me back in the present, sending the fear from Kyle’s presence skittering into the shadows.
I blink, dragging in a sharp breath as I focus on the deep brown of his eyes. They aren’t as dark as I’d initially assumed. This close, I see tiny flecks of amber sparking within, like fireflies dancing in the night, calling to me.
His touch is steady but not confining as he guides me to the sofa, his hands light on my arms like he’s afraid I’ll break. Fuck, if he lets me go, maybe I will. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this fragile. Weak. Helpless.
I practically fall onto the couch cushions, still in a bit of a daze. Finn is watching me closely, his expression tight with something that looks like concern. Confusion flickers in his gaze, too. Doubt. I can’t look at him for more than a second before tearing my gaze away.
He makes some excuse to the others before pushing to his feet, and I hear him disappearing up the stairs. To think or to apologize to Kyle, who fucking knows.
“Here.” Kneeling in front of me, Ethan presses a ceramic mug into my hands. The heat seeps into my fingers but does little to ease the faint tremble. “Drink this.”
I take a small sip, savoring the calming flavor of the chamomile tea. It works, a little. At least until Griffin shifts forward to the edge of his seat and clears his throat. “We think you should switch rooms with one of the guys at my house.”
I don’t meet his gaze for another moment, taking another sip of my drink before looking around at the group of men gathered around me. They’d been arguing about this before Kyle arrived. Jax had opposed his idea, but now, he’s oddly silent. Is he in agreement?
My focus shifts to Ethan. He typically gives the orders, but he doesn’t pipe up, letting me make the decision.
What do I want?
I don’t want to sleep under the same roof as Kyle.
But if I leave, Kyle wins .
First, he runs me out of my house, then he runs me off the team, and finally, he chases me out of BSU.
I already let Lucas take everything from me once.
I won’t do it again.
Setting the mug down on the coffee table, I lift my chin, meeting each of their gazes. “No.”
“Hurricane—”
“I’m not leaving,” I say firmly, cutting Griffin off. “This is my house, too. I won’t let him scare me off.”
The guys exchange looks, and I can feel Ethan watching me, his stare burning. But I don’t waver. If Kyle wants me out of the house, off the team, then he’s going to have to do a hell of a lot better than that.
Because I’m not giving up without a fight.