31. Dylan
DYLAN
Thursday night and it’s the first night since my attack that I’ve been left by myself. I feel like that kid in Home Alone . The parents are out of town, and there’s so much I could get up to that I don’t even know where to start.
Perhaps that’s why I’ve made plans to go to Wren’s.
Or maybe it’s because I’ve gotten used to sitting on the couch playing video games with Jax or dissecting a game with Ethan before crawling into bed beside Griffin, and with none of them here, the house feels strangely empty.
With the first game of the season tomorrow night, there is a team meeting and final practice this evening, which has them all busy.
Since Kyle, Fletcher, and Monroe will all be there, they determined it would be safe for me to stay home alone.
Although it was clear Ethan did not like the idea.
Pretty sure, if it were up to him, he’d have dragged me to the meeting with them.
But there’s no need for me to be there. Honestly, it just pisses me off every time I have to sit on that bench and watch Kyle skate by with his smug fucking smirk that I want to slice straight off his face.
It’s making me homicidal, which is not a good thing, especially for a hockey player.
Our temperaments already run high, I don’t need to add gasoline to the flames.
Dressed in leggings, boots, and an oversized, slouchy sweater, I check myself in the mirror before grabbing my phone and keys off my desk and heading out of my room. I’m careful to lock my bedroom door in case Kyle gets home before me, before leaving the house.
Starting the engine of my car, I’m halfway down the street when my phone starts ringing. The noise comes through the entertainment system, and I check the screen to see it’s Ethan calling me. I frown because he should be in the middle of their meeting right now.
For a second, I consider not answering. I’m still pissed at him for what he said this morning. Although, if I’m being honest, I’m mostly pissed that he wasn’t wrong. His delivery lacked any sort of tact, but, sadly…he wasn’t wrong.
I hate that he wasn’t. That I couldn’t take care of myself. That once again, I found myself in a position of weakness.
The fact that we argued over the fact he wants to protect me is stupid. He just…pisses me off sometimes. Most of the time. I’m in a constant war between fighting for my independence and letting them help.
Blowing out a breath, I answer the call before it rings out. “Everything okay?”
“You tell me. Where are you going, Thorn?”
I hit the brakes, pulling over to the curb and looking around me. What the fuck?
“Do you have someone watching me?” I accuse, feeling the rage mount. “Is it that little freshman? Is he watching the house?”
He scoffs. “I don’t need to have anyone watching the house. ”
“Then how?”
“Where are you going, Thorn?” he repeats.
“None of your fucking business,” I snap, throwing the car in gear and continuing down the street, fuming.
Did I just say arguing with him was stupid, ’cause I change my mind.
Arguing with him is a necessity to ensure he doesn’t take control of my entire fucking life.
My hands clench around the wheel, and my foot definitely presses down on the pedal harder than usual.
A few minutes later, I pull up outside Wren’s.
“Ah, Wren’s. You could have just said that.” There’s a hint of smugness in his voice that has me wishing we were face to face so I could slap him.
“How do you fucking know that?” I demand, looking around me once more, before my gaze latches on to my phone. Tilting my head, I glare at it. “Are you tracking me right now?!”
“Shouldn’t leave your phone unattended.”
I rack my brain before remembering I left my phone on the coffee table while I ran to the bathroom during a video game marathon the other night.
“It’s password protected,” I argue futilely, since clearly he managed to get past it.
“Yeah, you should really be more careful about who you let see you type in your password. Your social awareness skills are terrifying.”
Are you fucking kidding me right now?
“Fuck you,” I snap, irritated beyond belief as I snatch up my phone and go to change the password so a certain controlling psychopath of a captain can’t have unfettered access to my personal crap.
“There,” I state triumphantly when I’m done. “Try getting in now, asshole.”
“I don’t need access to your phone, Thorn. I already know where you are at all times. ”
“You do realize how insane that sounds, right? You sound like a deranged stalker.”
“I’m just trying to keep you safe,” he argues, frustration bleeding through.
“Yeah, by invading my personal space.”
“Well, clearly I can’t trust you. You said you were staying in tonight.”
I throw my hands up. “Plans change. What’s it matter since the three guys we know attacked me are with you ?”
“It matters because if something happened to you, I wouldn’t know about it.
” For the first time since I answered his call, he loses his cool and snaps at me, his voice downright menacing.
It actually leaves me speechless, gaping at my phone in shock.
“I wouldn’t know where you are or be able to get to you.
I don’t give a fuck if it invades your privacy,” he continues.
“I don’t give a fuck how it makes me look.
If it keeps you safe, then you can bet your ass I’m going to do it. ”
I still haven’t located my voice when he snaps, “Stay at Wren’s until one of us comes to get you.”
“I don’t need?—”
“So help me, Dylan, if you disobey me on this, I’m going to bend you over my knee and smack your ass until it’s red.”
Now I’m speechless and turned on.
“Enjoy your night,” he says, all signs of hostility gone before he hangs up.
Well, fuck me. That was…unexpected.
I’m still reeling from our conversation when I step into Wren’s apartment.
“What’s wrong?” she demands upon seeing my face.
“Ethan has been tracking my phone. He called as soon as I left the house tonight, demanding to know where I was going.”
Her eyes round in surprise. “Well, that’s…” I expect her to say fucked up, insane, over the top. One of the many thoughts th at went through my head, but instead she shocks the shit out of me by saying, “So hot.”
“Wait, what?” I must have heard her wrong.
“The guy is so into you that he broke into your phone so he could track you?” she explains. “That’s like.” She begins fanning herself. “Stupid sexy.”
“You need help,” I tell her bluntly, moving to collapse onto her sofa. “Like real, psychiatric help.”
Unfazed by my assessment of her, Wren shrugs, before grabbing the margarita she poured for herself and offering me a bottle of beer from her fridge.
I typically try not to drink during the season, but since I’m not playing this week, I accept it.
Besides, I think I’m owed a drink after this fucking week and tonight’s revelation.
“He’s only doing it because he thinks it’s his duty to protect me,” I tell her. “I think he blames himself for what happened.”
“ Or ,” she emphasizes, “and hear me out here. But he might be doing it because he actually likes you.”
After my admission to her the other day, she has been on a mission to convince me Ethan has feelings and that I should start some sort of group relationship with them all. Ha. As if that sort of thing actually works in real life.
I groan, my head falling back against the sofa as I nurse my beer. “You need to stop with that. Ethan hasn’t once hinted at anything beyond friendship. I need to be focused on him as my captain—on building trust there. Especially after Lucas.”
Wren makes a fake gagging noise. “That wretched snake. Let’s not ruin a perfectly good night by talking about that asshole.
” Reaching forward to grab the remote, I see she’s already got a movie lined up for us.
“Time will tell with Ethan, and when it does, you can expect my I told you so ,” is her final remark before she presses play, cutting off any denial on my part.
I fall asleep halfway through the movie, thanks to the pain meds I’m on and the one beer I drank. I wake to the buzzing of my phone. Yawning, I blink my eyes open as I stretch. Wren is curled up beside me, a blanket tucked over us, while she scrolls through her phone.
“Sorry.” I cringe, feeling bad for falling asleep on her.
“Don’t worry about it. You’ve had a long week.”
Pulling my phone from my pocket, I find a text from Finn in the group chat Ethan set up after the attack—with him, Finn, Jax, Griffin, and now me.
Finn
Time to go. Get your ass down here.
Charming. Just for that, I take my sweet time using the bathroom and drinking a glass of water to wake myself up before saying goodbye to Wren and making my way downstairs.
“Finally,” he grunts, pushing himself off the side of my car when he spots me. “Took you long enough.”
“I didn’t ask you to come get me,” I snap at him, not appreciating his attitude for one second.
“If you’ve got a problem with it, take it up with Ethan since he’s the one who deems me incapable of driving myself home alone, even though—news flash!
—I’ve been driving myself to and from places for years without issue. ”
“Can we just get in the car?” he says tiredly. “I’m too fucking exhausted for this.”
Without saying another word, I unlock the doors and we both climb in. His head falls back against the headrest, eyes drifting shut as I turn on the engine .
“Rough practice?” I ask as I pull onto the road.
“Long,” he mumbles in response. He rubs at his eyes before pushing himself more upright and staring steadfastly out the windshield. “I was up half the night completing an assignment for my kinesiology class.”
I simply nod as I navigate the quiet streets back to the house.
We’re nearly home when I feel his eyes on me. “Did you have a good night?”
His question catches me by surprise. The few times Finn has been waiting for me outside class, he’s been like a shadow, silently trailing me through campus and rarely engaging in conversation.
He’ll answer questions if I ask them, but he never asks his own, other than to know where or when my next class is.
“If you can call falling asleep and drooling all over Wren’s sofa a good night, then sure.”
“Your body is still healing,” he says. It could be my imagination, but I swear his voice is a tad softer than before. “You need all the rest you can get.”
My response is terse, born from frustration. “Yeah.”
We’re quiet, neither of us saying another word until I pull into the driveway. “Another few days and you’ll be back on the ice.” I know he means for his words to be reassuring, but they aren’t.
Turning in my seat, I face him across the center console.
Light from the porch casts his face half in shadow.
“And then what? I wait for Kyle to come after me again? What if he doesn’t stop at beating me this time?
What if he breaks my arm or leg and I’m out for weeks ?
Hell, he could fracture my back or give me a concussion so bad that it has me out for the rest of the season. The rest of my life! ”
Finn’s face is pinched, anguish, concern, and skepticism all warring for first place. His lips part, but no words come out. He doesn’t know what the fuck to say, because he doesn’t know who to believe. And I get it, I do, but it doesn’t make the situation any more palatable.
Giving him a free pass, I push open my door and move to climb out. He reaches across the space between us, his fingers tightening around my wrist. I pause, looking back at him. “We’re not going to let them hurt you again.” I can tell he means it. That it bothers him that I think he would.
“That’s the problem, though, isn’t it?” I say, looking him in the eye.
“You shouldn’t even have to promise me that.
I shouldn’t have to be afraid for my safety all because I want to play a game.
I shouldn’t have to be scared to fall asleep at night.
To be left in the house alone.” Leaning in, I let him see the stark fear I refuse to even let myself acknowledge most days, never mind let anyone else see.
“I shouldn’t have to stare into the faces of the men who attacked me every single day and know that they got away with it, and yet that’s the reality we live in.
Worse, it’s one I don’t envision changing anytime soon. ”
When I tug against his hold, he lets me go, and I leave him behind in the car as I walk into the house.