25. Ethan
ETHAN
“Seriously?” Griffin barks a laugh that instantly grates on my nerves. It’s humorless and razor-sharp. “You have no idea who did this ?”
I frown, slowly rounding on him as I cross my arms over my chest, hiding the clenching of my fists. After tonight, I’m one argument away from losing my shit.
“Can’t think of a single person who would want to do her harm? Who would benefit from her being unable to play?” Sneering, he shakes his head like I’m an idiot.
My gaze narrows on him, teeth grinding. I choose my next words very carefully. “What exactly are you insinuating, Griffin?”
His gaze turns sharp, calculating. “You mean other than the fact that you’re a shitty captain?”
His words land like a punch—exactly like he intends. My whole body locks up, blood boiling. “ Excuse me? ”
“You heard me.” Griffin’s voice is low, brimming with uncontained fury now that Dylan isn’t here to temper it. “How the fuck did you miss this? Your team. Your players. You’re supposed to know what’s going on. ”
I step forward. “Don’t you dare?—”
“Don’t I dare what? Call you out on the fact that you’ve been ignoring Dylan’s existence all season?
” He scoffs, eyes burning into me. “First, it was because she might not make the team, so she wasn’t a concern, but what’s your excuse been for the past two weeks?
” He tilts his head to the side, a malicious glint in his eye.
My teeth grind. No fucking way am I about to admit the truth to him. Hell, I can barely admit it to myself. Why I never spare Dylan more than a passing glance when we’re on the ice. Why I make a point of not seeking her out unless I have to.
Because I’m terrified I won’t be able to look away.
“I get it,” he drawls. “You don’t want to admit what she does to you.
You think if you pretend she’s not there, it’ll make a difference.
But while you’ve been busy playing fucking make-believe, Fletcher and Monroe have been targeting her.
They’ve been going after her harder than they should, and they’ve been getting away with it.
Because you’re wearing fucking blinders! ”
His words cut deep. Too deep.
I shake my head. “That’s bullshit.” Sure, they’ve gone after her a time or two, but that’s just part of the game. We all get caught up in the need to win, even when it’s against teammates. “There’s no way. I’d have seen it.”
“It’s not.” Jax steps forward, face set in a grim line. I hadn’t realized he’d returned from sorting Dylan out. His voice isn’t angry, just tired. “I’ve seen it too. Stepped in when I could.”
I drag a hand down my face, trying to process this. To stomach my failure, all because I was intent on being the best captain possible and saw Dylan as a distraction.
“You’re saying Fletcher and Monroe are the ones who attacked her tonight?” I ask, needing to focus on that instead of the twisted, sick feeling of failure threatening to eat me alive .
“They’re the weapons. The puppets. Someone else is pulling their strings.”
My focus narrows, putting the pieces together.
“Kyle.” My gaze snaps to Griffin’s. “You think Kyle is the one behind it all.”
“Damn right I do.”
Finn scoffs from where he’s collapsed onto the sofa. “Come on. Kyle wouldn’t do that.”
Griffin turns on him. “Wouldn’t he?”
“Kyle’s got his issues,” I admit, willing to believe he’d get some third-liners to do his dirty work on the ice.
Especially after I told him he’d be out of here if he didn’t stop going after Dylan.
“But to accuse him of attacking Dylan?” I shake my head, refusing to believe it.
To believe the guy I’ve known since we were freshmen, lived with for over three years, would go to such violent extremes.
Griffin simply arches an eyebrow. “Then where is he?”
We all fall silent.
Finn glances around the room as if expecting him to come down the stairs at any moment. I lick my dry lips. “He went out a while ago. Didn’t say where he was going.”
I notice Finn on his phone, and we all watch as he dials Kyle’s number, putting it on speakerphone.
Seconds pass. The only sound is the ringing of Kyle’s phone.
With every unanswered ring, my chest squeezes tighter, and Finn’s expression grows shadowed.
“He’s not answering,” he eventually admits, hanging up.
Griffin just looks at me. “Huh, I wonder why? Perhaps because he’s out gloating with his new buddies.”
I shake my head. “That doesn’t prove anything.”
His eyes are dark with certainty as he states, “I’ll give you my left nut if Kyle, Fletcher, and Monroe weren’t behind tonight. ”
No one says a word.
“No,” Finn interjects, shaking his head. “No fucking way. I’ve known Kyle since we were kids. He wouldn’t—” He can’t even finish his sentence, before he abruptly gets up, redialing Kyle’s number as he storms up the stairs.
Jax exhales, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “Shit.”
I just stand there, mind racing. Do I believe Griffin? The problem is, I don’t not believe him. I’ve seen the hatred in Kyle’s eyes when he looks at Dylan. Some part of me, however small, believes Griffin might be right.
As though he wasn’t ready to rip my head off mere seconds ago, Griffin drops back onto the couch. “I’m staying,” he declares.
“What?” I snap my gaze to him. I don’t mind Griffin but after tonight, I need space to fucking think.
“I don’t trust her with any of you,” he says flatly. For a moment, I regret not letting him answer Finn’s question earlier. I’m curious to know, too, exactly what’s going on between him and Dylan. “I can sleep here or climb in her window after you’ve all gone to bed. Up to you.”
“Jesus fucking Christ.” I pinch the bridge of my nose, listening as Jax stalks off to find some spare blankets for him. “Stay out of her bedroom,” I practically growl at him, hating the way his eyebrows hitch and a smug smirk tugs at his lips. “She needs her rest.”
“Uh-huh. Whatever you say, Captain.”
Before I lose my cool and do something uncharacteristic, like punch Griffin in his smug fucking face, I stomp toward the back door, in need of fresh air.
The cool night is a balm to my overheated skin, and I breathe deep, trying to clear my head. It doesn’t work.
At some point, I end up on the steps, elbows on my knees, head in my hands .
I don’t know how long I sit like that, tonight’s revelations spinning around in my head—twisting together with the fear that hit me like a freight train when Finn and Griffin carried Dylan into the house. When I saw her beaten and bruised. Knowing I hadn’t been there. That I didn’t protect her.
As team captain, she’s my responsibility.
But she’s also just… my responsibility .
Not because I’m the captain. Not because I’m her roommate.
But because I want her to be.
Because Griffin is fucking right—as usual—and I do feel something more for her. Something I’ve tried to deny…
And look at what happened!
Frustrated and no more level-headed, I head back inside.
The lights are off in the kitchen and living room, and I can just about make out Griffin’s form on the sofa before I head for the stairs.
I take them two at a time. When I reach Dylan’s door, I see it’s ajar and ease it open, slipping into her room.
Jax is already inside, sitting in a chair pulled up beside her bed.
His elbows rest on his knees, his gaze fixed on her sleeping form.
His face is unguarded in a way I don’t think I’ve ever seen before, showing a depth of emotion that takes me by surprise.
I suspected he had feelings for her, but now I know.
“You care about her.” My voice is pitched low, careful not to wake her.
Jax swallows, ducking his head. “Yeah.”
It takes me a second to form the words. To find the courage, but what good has denying anything done? It’s only resulted in Dylan getting hurt. “Me too.”
I lean against the doorframe, staring at Dylan. She looks small like this, curled up under the blankets, her face soft in sleep. But even unconscious, she shifts slightly, like she’s bracing for another hit .
The longer I stare at her, I can admit, she’s upended my life in ways I never anticipated. I thought she’d cause discord among the team, upheave our chances of making it to the championships.
What I never expected was to find myself captivated by her.
To admire her strength. Respect her tenacity.
She’s a force to be reckoned with, and I can’t seem to look away.
I’ve had to force myself to keep my distance.
To walk away from her. To keep things casual.
To stop myself from reaching out to touch her.
All that did was result in her getting hurt.
Guilt destroys me from the inside out.
Eventually, Jax sighs, stretching as he stands. “I’m gonna grab some sleep.” He moves toward the door but pauses when he sees I haven’t moved. “You coming?”
I shake my head, stepping farther into the room. “No. I’m gonna stay. Keep an eye on her. Just in case.” I sink into the chair he just vacated, gaze intent on the rhythmic rise and fall of Dylan’s chest.
I feel Jax’s eyes on me for a second before his presence disappears from the room, leaving me alone with Dylan.
Slipping my hand into hers on top of the sheet, I make a silent promise not to let her down again. Not as a captain. Not as a roommate. Not as a friend.
I can’t promise anything more. I won’t. Not when my head is a mess and it’s obvious Jax has feelings for her. Plus, whatever the hell is going on between her and Griffin. And if what Griffin said is true, Finn has something for her too.
I wipe a hand down my face. What a clusterfuck.
Keeping my hand in hers, I sink back into my chair and watch over her. Because, for tonight at least, that’s the only thing that makes sense.
Crust lines my lids as I groggily peel them open. I’m momentarily blinded by the first rays of morning light creeping through the window. My neck is stiff from a night spent sitting upright, and I roll it, feeling the muscles pop and grind as I work out the kinks.