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Reese nods. “Sure thing.”

“What? No.” I shake my head. “I don’t want you to miss practice or get in trouble.”

He turns my face toward his. “T, this is more important than practice and hockey. Coach’ll just have to deal with it.” His mouth forms a grim line and his eyes dart over my shoulder to where I know Reese is standing. “You’re not the only one that has something to report.”

A body wrackingshiver runs through my body. It’s not cold in here, and despite the mildly warm cup of coffee the receptionist offered me when we arrived, I can’t get warm.

“Here,” Axel says, slipping off his jacket.

“You’ll get cold.”

“Nah,” he says, draping it over my shoulders. “I’m hot natured. Especially when I’m pissed.” He glances up when the door opens. “Are you sure you want me in here for this?”

I nod, taking his hand. “Please.”

The coat is toasty warm, and Axel’s scent clings to it, making it feel like a shield. The room is nicer than I expected for the small Wittmore Police Station. The chairs are cushioned and the walls painted a soft blue-gray. A woman enters and introduces herself as Detective Shaw. She’s young, with dark hair pulled back in a tight, low ponytail. When she says, “Why don’t you start from the beginning,” I take a deep breath and begin.

I don’t know if it’s from keeping the trauma inside for so long, or just the relief of finally making the decision to come forward, but once I start, I can’t stop. It’s not easy detailing my days as a jersey chaser, but even I can tell that there’s a shift–when it stopped being my idea and I became part of someone else’s scheme.

“They set up a LonelyFans account?” Detective Shaw asks, taking notes.

“Yes. I have a copy of the video,” I tell her, reaching for my phone. Ruby screen recorded it, capturing the name of the account. It hurts to see myself like that, but I can’t run from it any longer.

Her eyes flick up from the screen. There’s a line creasing her forehead. “Where did this take place?”

“In a house off campus.” I look to Axel. “Do you remember the name?”

“Red Rock. Those prefab ones on the back side of the stadium.”

Detective Shaw nods and watches the video again. “I’m going to make a copy of this if that’s okay? It’ll be submitted into evidence.” I give my approval and she says, “And there were drugs involved?”

“I think so. I felt like they put something in my food or drink.”

Axel squeezes my hand and clears his throat. “Yeah, I have something to add to that.”

The edges of the room grow fuzzy as I listen to Axel tell Detective Shaw that he’d been drugged at a party last month. He provides a copy of the lab work, and a statement from the team doctor and Coach Bryant that they think he was either intentionally or inadvertently drugged and he received no consequences.

“Drugged?” I ask, trying to process what he’s saying. “It wasn’t just THC? You were dosed with rohypnol?”

“That’s what the lab tests said.” He leans forward. “I own smoking the weed. I remember doing that, but things got hazy after that.”

“You barely remembered talking to me that night.”

His jaw tenses and he glances at Detective Shaw. “I don’t have proof, but I think that drink was for you. One of the lastthings I remember is interrupting you and Brent and taking your very full cup of punch.”

“You said it tasted weird.” That night comes rushing back to me. Axel taking my drink. How quickly his words became slurred and how we all thought he was just drunk. “Brent didn’t give me that drink though. Some sophomore on the baseball team did.”

“Do you have his name?” Detective Shaw asks.

I tell her what I remember and then say, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Axel nervously runs his hand through his hair. “I should have, but you were already going through so much, and I didn’t want to pile on. Reese and I made the decision not to tell anyone and to keep an eye on you.”

Tears prick at my eyes. I’ve been holding them back since we got here, but hearing all of this sets them loose. If a guy like Axel, who is strong and powerful, can’t be safe, how can anyone else?

“I’m going to give you two a minute alone,” Detective Shaw says, picking up her pad and sliding her chair back, “and go check on a few things. I’ll be back soon.”

I don’t look up as she exits the room, and Axel keeps his hand clamped around mine until the door shuts, then he pulls me out of the chair and onto his lap. “Tell me what’s going through that head of yours.”