Chapter 25
CHAPTER 25
K ennedy and I finished our meal, deciding to head to the library. I hadn’t been to the library once this semester and my grades reflected it. Normally, I avoided it because of the amount of attention I garnered when I went. It was hard enough for me to concentrate, let alone when people were constantly whispering about me. At some point, I had to stop letting these people rule my decision-making. Hiding forever wasn’t an option.
“If you find a table, Ken, I’ll grab us some coffee from the cafe cart,” I motioned toward the small kiosk on the first floor of the library. It was a small grab-n-go coffee station. One lone worker lingered behind it, their eyes glued down to their phone.
Kennedy nodded in agreement and took off for the third floor. The library had five different themed floors. The fourth was the silent floor, and the third was a collaborative learning space. It held large study rooms and comfy chairs with whiteboards for students to use. The other three had themes, based on the books they housed: everything from history to biomechanics and in between.
I made my way to the kiosk and ordered two coffees. The girl b ehind the counter didn’t bother to look up from the show she watched on her phone.
“Don’t bother swiping,” she said absently to me. I stopped, my hand ready to swipe my meal card to pay.
Looking at her, I raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
She glanced up with a sigh. “I have to throw everything out at the end of my shift. Seems pointless to make you pay when it’s about to be garbage.”
Huh. Guess she had me there. Quickly muttering my thanks, I filled our cups and doctored them to our preferences. I balanced the drinks and muffins the girl insisted on giving me and navigated up to the third floor. Tiffany was descending as I ascended, making me cringe internally. Dear God, if you’re there, please don’t let her shove me. Breaking my neck and spilling scalding coffee on myself at the same time was a terrible way to go. Plus, I wanted this muffin.
Thankfully, she sneered and whispered to the clone beside her and moved on. At some point, people needed to find something else to gossip about. Surely there have been other scandals on campus. Right?
Finding Kennedy quickly, we dove into our homework. We chatted absently while we worked on our respective subjects. Time slipped away and soon day transitioned to night without us even realizing it.
Groaning, I slammed my head down on my notebooks. “How long have we been here?” My papers muffled the sound of my voice.
I didn’t bother to move as Kennedy responded. “Three hours. I can’t do this anymore.”
I picked my head up and agreed. We packed up quickly and made plans to get together this weekend. Kennedy took off before I finished packing up my things. My phone vibrated, making me pause.
Unknown:
Third-floor side stairwell.
My eyebrows shot up. That was cryptic and demanding. Who would want me to meet them there? Was this some kind of game to Hunter? A kink he likes to explore? The side stairwells were notorious for hookups, as they were less used than the main staircase. Most people made it a part of their college bucket list to bump uglies in one at least once. I thought the library was too cliche, I always wanted to go at it in the large bowl-shaped fountain in front of the foreign language building. Now, that sounded like a bucket list item.
I slung my backpack over my shoulder and made my way to the side stairwell. Let’s indulge Hunter in his little game. If he wants to play hunter—no pun intended—and victim, I could be interested. I looked around discreetly to ensure no one saw me disappearing behind the door. No one would follow, but the last thing anyone wanted was some peeping tom to creep on them. One did not text someone to meet them in the stairwells if they didn’t plan to at least get to second base.
I jogged down one flight of stairs to find the landing empty. Shock caused me to slow my approach. Looking over my shoulder, the stairwell was eerily quiet. The only noise came from the hum of the fluorescent lights above. Goosebumps rose over my arms and the sensation of being watched creeped
“Hunt?” I called out softly. “If you want to play cat and mouse, could you at least give a girl some warning?” Padding down to the landing, I looked over the railing.
Once again, there was nothing. Scrambling for my phone, I clicked Hunter’s contact information. The phone rang while I held the phone away from my ear. If he was hiding, the sound of a cell phone ringing or vibrating would give him away. I furrowed my brow when no such sound came. Hunter’s voice echoed from my palm, echoing in the space.
Bringing my phone to my ear, I sighed, “Hunter, where are you? This isn’t funny.”
“Maci? What are you talking about? I just got off the ice for night practice. Is something wrong?” His confused tone rang through my ears. Hunter didn’t lure me into the stairwell, which means someone else did.
Gulping, I whispered, “No chance you’re hiding in the side stairwell of the library?”
“No, Maci, what the fuck is going on?” Hunter shifted, trying to peel his gear off and talk to me at the same time.
“Nothing, just someone playing a stupid prank, I?—”
A hand grabbed my shoulder, yanking me back into the stairwell. My phone clattered to the ground, Hunter’s alarmed voice squawking from it as it went.
“What the fu—” My words cut off. For one horrifying moment, my body wobbled before falling backwards.
My body rolled, with my legs flipping behind my head. Desperately, I whipped my arms around my head, protecting it from the steps. The fall was brief, allowing me to recover quickly and scramble away. The sound of boots on cement drew my attention to my assailant. Above me loomed a large man in a dark hoodie. A black surgical face mask hid most of his features. The only distinguishable feature was his midnight eyes filled with malice. My breathing refused to steady, hindering my ability to run away.
Grunting, he tried grabbing me again, his hands missing my hips by millimeters. Taking advantage of his blunder, I thrusted my elbow behind me, clipping his nose. He backed off, cursing at the contact. Unsteadily, I climbed to my feet. Hoodie-man held his nose through the mask. He didn’t linger, shoving past me to escape. My body collided with the wall, my adrenaline disintegrating. My body slid against the wall u ntil my behind met the cement. The attacker hesitated by the door before turning back to me.
Bracing for an impact that never came, his hot breath warmed my ear. “Your days are numbered, bitch.”
As quickly as he came, he went. Hugging my knees to my chest, I attempted to control my panicked breathing.
One.
Breath in.
Two.
Breath out.
Three.
My vision tunneled. Suddenly, I was back in my dad’s SUV, trapped upside down. Frantic hands pulled at my chest, fighting against an invisible seatbelt. Reality flickered in and out. It felt like an elephant was sitting on my chest. Tires squealed against pavement. Placing my palms over my ears, I prayed for salvation.
Make it stop.
“Maci?” The deep timbre reminded me of dad. Am I dead? Was this him beckoning me to the other side? No, that wouldn’t make much sense. People didn’t die from panic attacks. Right?
“Maci!” That sounded closer and more urgent. Groaning, I fought to let reality wash over me.
The sensation of being suspended upside down disappeared. My consciousness ebbed its way to the forefront of my mind.
You’re not there. The reminder grounded me. Raising my head, I stretched out my curled-up legs. My body protested the movement, and a headache bloomed.
It was Colonel Mustard, with the pipe in the library! I chuckled at my own morbid thought. Hunter came bursting into view just as I pulled myself up from the ground. His face resembled a tomato, and his wet hair flopped around wildly. His sh irt was on inside out and I held myself back from laughing.
“Your shirt is on inside out,” I wheezed.
“What the fuck happened?” He seethed, pulling me to sit down. I fiddled with the hem of my shirt.
Sensing my embarrassment, his eyes softened. “Tell me, Sunshine.”
It was inevitable. He wouldn’t let me leave without telling him the truth. It took a few minutes, but I explained the attack and the other harassment.
Hunter’s jaw clenched, his lips pulling into a grim line. He was holding himself back, refusing to tell me his thoughts. Instead, his fingers probed my jawline, gingerly assessing for injuries.
He leaned back. “We should take you to the E.R.”
“No, no hospitals.” The last time, I came out more broken than when I went in. Never again. Nothing good comes from those places.
“Sunshine, you’re hurt. We should get you checked out.”
Shaking my head vehemently, I fought back tears. “I’m fine. Just shaken up, nothing some ibuprofen won’t fix.”
Hunter sighed, running his hands through his hair in defeat. There was no point in fighting me.
“We should at least file a police report.”
I didn’t want to do that either. I wasn’t dealing with gossiping puck bunnies.
“Fine. But that’s it. I don’t want to make a big deal about this and do not tell Jackson.” I said, pointing at Hunter.
Hunter shook his head at me. “I’ll let you have that one. Come on, the quicker we file the report, the sooner you can put this behind you.”
He pulled me up from my seated position and helped me out of the library. Filing the police report went quickly. The police told me that with the lack of description, there wasn’t much they could do. They recommended some general safety tips and gave me a case number. The entire time we were in the police station, it looked like he wanted to murder someone. The police’s lack of aid was unimpressive. Hunter’s hands remained balled into fists the entire time I filled out the report. Every so often, a police officer gave me a dismissive statement, and his jaw ticked. This bothered him a lot more than it did me. Unless there was a dead body, no one would care about some hooded man scaring a girl in the library. Just saying it out loud sounded ridiculous.
By the time we got back to my apartment, I was exhausted and sore. Hunter had wanted me to go back to Hockey House, but I flat-out refused. Even with the ding-dong ditching and notes, I felt safer in my apartment. Plus, the last thing I wanted to deal with was Jackson’s vehemence over Hunter and my ‘situationship’.
Hunter grabbed a few ice packs from my freezer and helped me into my full-sized bed. He made quick work of taking off his shoes and hoodie before climbing into bed with me.
“What are you doing?”
He raised his eyebrows at me. “I’m not leaving you alone. You probably have a concussion.”
I rolled my eyes. “I didn’t even hit my head.”
Hunter gave me a pointed look while adjusting himself on my pillow. There was no use arguing with him. He was too hard headed to be reasoned with. Hunter beckoned me to join him, and I obliged, placing my head on his chest. This was surprisingly comfortable. Hunter placed a chaste kiss on my forehead and reached to grab the remote on my nightstand.
“Better safe than sorry. I don’t like that someone tried to hurt you.”
My room wasn’t large, but it was big enough to hold my bed and a chest of drawers. There was a small television on top of the drawers. Countless hours of binging Netflix had occurred in this very spot. Hunter flicked through the stream ing services, pulling up the Bruins versus Penguins game.
I looked up at him. “Really?”
He gave me an amiable smile that showcased his dimples. “Hockey is life, babe.”
I laughed at him. Once upon a time, I would have agreed. Now, watching the players racing up and down the ice made me feel forlorn. We had been working for the last three weeks on my skills, but skill work differed from gameplay. Longing to be on a team again consumed me, my chest aching to have the familiar camaraderie I had grown up with. There was little chance of Coach Kline letting me back on the team. On paper, my dismissal from the team seemed cordial, but in real life, it had been a dumpster fire.
I had never seen Coach Kline get so angry before. When I missed the game because I was drunk—she let me know exactly how she felt about me. What she said could probably have gotten her fired, but I deserved those words.
“You’re a fucking disaster. I wasted years on developing you. You are just as worthless as your father. He’s at least six feet under. What’s your excuse?”
“Where’d you just go?”
I shook away the memories and smiled. “Nowhere, just tired.”
It wasn’t long before my eyes drifted closed to the sounds of the Bruins beating the Penguins. Stupid Sydney Crosby.