Page 45

I’m supposed to be focused on drills. Coach is watching from the rafters, arms crossed, probably tracking our formations, checking my footwork, but I can’t lock in. My stick moves on instinct. My body goes where it’s supposed to. But my head’s somewhere else.

Every slap of the puck is duller. Every shout from Caleb, every call from Thatcher, it all filters through cotton. I know I should be focused on practice. But all I see is her face.

Every photo, every clip, someone watching her like it was a game. And it’s possible—maybe even likely—that the reason any of this started… is because of me.

She got caught between Caleb and me. That alone would give someone a field day. But the way it happened, the way it spiraled… it’s too pointed. Too personal. It started the moment we crossed that line.

That has to mean something.

By the time the whistle blows, I’ve barely broken a sweat.

In the locker room, Caleb waits until the others are in the showers before walking over. He leans against the bench like he’s been waiting to say something.

“I didn’t do it,” he says quietly.

I don’t answer.

He exhales hard. “Whatever you’re thinking, about those old videos or anything else—I wiped all of it. I don’t keep shit like that anymore. Especially not now. I swear.”

I nod once, still watching him.

“You really think I’d stoop that low?” he mutters.

“I don’t know,” I say. “But someone’s watching her. Digging through her stuff. We have no idea how far this goes.”

He runs a hand over his face. “This is bad.”

“Worse than bad,” I say. “We need a P.I.”

He looks at me, shaking his head and says, “Do you know what I am?”

I smirk. “A fucking Reaper.”

We find Thatcher just before he heads out. He’s cleaning his skates. He looks up when he sees us and raises an eyebrow.

“You two look like you’re about to ask me to hide a body.”

Caleb smirks. “Something like that. We need a favor.”

Thatcher drops his rag to the bench, stretches his arms out like this is a warm-up. “What kind of favor?”

“Trace an online hacker?” Caleb says. “Someone’s fucking blackmailing my girl.”

Thatcher’s expression shifts from sarcastic to sharp in seconds. “How long’s it been going on?”

“Started yesterday,” I say.

“Do you have the devices?”

Caleb glances at me. I nod. “I’ll get the laptop and phone.”

Thatcher asks, “Am I gonna have to kill someone?”

Caleb chuckles. “I’ll talk to Noah for that one.”

Thatcher says, “Get them to me now. I’ll have a name by the end of the day.”

By late afternoon, we’re all in my apartment. Caleb’s pacing. I’m trying not to.

Thatcher brings Logan. He types like a machine, fingers moving too fast for my eyes to follow. His monitors light up with lines of code, traces, flagged entries, backdoor logs. His face stays neutral, but every few seconds, he leans closer, eyes narrowing.

Finally, he leans back in his chair.

“I found him.”

Caleb stops mid-step. “Who?”

Logan turns one of the monitors toward us. “Aaron.”

I blink. “Aaron?”

“Who the fuck is Aaron?” Caleb scoffs.

“He’s been running a silent keylogger through a dummy app she downloaded back in February.

Probably sent it to her as a ‘study tool’ or something.

I checked her app history—there’s one in there that’s not on the App Store anymore.

Hidden files. Password access. Every word she typed, he saw it,” Logan explains.

Caleb shakes his head. “That guy must be from her past.”

“Apparently not,” Logan says. “He’s the one who pulled her photos.

The ones from Blackridge. He went digging after she stopped answering his calls.

According to the call logs, that was a while back.

Looks like he got jealous. Found the videos.

Started copying emails. Even got into the drive where the team shares footage. ”

My stomach sinks.

He hacked her.

Every message, every threat is this fucking asshole. Watching. Waiting.

“Why?” I mutter. “Who the fuck is this guy?”

Thatcher laughs.

Logan shrugs. “He’s not finished. I traced the last email. He scheduled another batch to go out tomorrow morning. If we don’t stop him now, it hits her dad’s inbox.”

Caleb’s jaw tightens. “We need answers.”

Yeah.

And fast.

He’s on his knees by the time we reach the clearing, the blindfold still in place, zip-ties biting into his wrists.

The forest stretches around us like a cathedral of silence, tall pines watching like judges.

The air’s damp. Cold. Still. Even the birds don’t bother singing. No one moves until I say so.

Aaron shifts against the dirt, his breathing quick.

He hasn’t spoken since we pulled him from his motel and threw him in the trunk.

I know his type—calculating, narcissistic, so convinced of his own invincibility he probably thinks this is a warning.

Just a scare. He has no idea what’s about to happen.

Caleb stands a few feet away, arms folded, jaw clenched.

His Reaper’s mask pulled over his head, but he hasn’t looked away once.

Not since we dragged Aaron out of the car.

Thatcher’s behind him. Noah’s checking the rope looped over the nearest tree branch.

Just in case we go that far. It looks like they do this shit all the time.

The other Reapers wait on the edge of the clearing, eyes on me, because right now, I’m the outsider.

Then I swear Sienna steps out of thin air.

Where the fuck did she even come from? And did Caleb call her here?

She doesn’t speak as she crosses the grass, hands in the pocket of her oversized sweatshirt, her mouth set in that calm, unreadable way that makes men underestimate her. Her gaze falls on Aaron like she’s dissecting him. Nothing soft in it. No pity.

She stops beside Caleb. “You brought him here?”

He nod. “He’s yours.”

Caleb steps closer, voice low but tight. “We traced everything. The spyware. The fake study app. The drive access. It was him.”

Aaron’s head jerks. He starts to speak, but I cut the blindfold off with a flick of my knife. He blinks into the light, pupils narrowing. His gaze lands on her.

“Sienna,” he starts. “Look, whatever they told you—”

“Shut the fuck up, Aaron,” she says. Her gaze softens for a moment like she might feel bad for him and then her face hardens again. I turn my attention back to him.

He freezes. She steps closer. I see the way his eyes track her legs, her throat, the way his lips part like he thinks she still belongs to him.

“You stalked me all the way here?” she says. “Watched me through my screen. Downloaded my messages. Copied photos. You went through all that trouble to blackmail me? What the fuck?”

Aaron shakes his head.

“Then explain it,” I cut in. “Explain how you kept her photos. Explain the scheduled blackmail email set to go to her father. Explain why we found hundreds of screenshots saved under fake file names in your private drive.”

He swallows. “I just wanted her attention.”

“That wasn’t attention,” Caleb snaps. “That was war.”

Sienna drops to his eye level. “You’re mad because I didn’t let you rape me before I left?”

Me and Caleb glance at each other. This motherfucker is going to die now.

“Sie,” he pleads, and I hate that he’s using her fucking nickname like he knows her. I walk up and punch his fucking throat, which sends him into a choking frenzy.

“I don’t want him dead,” she says. “But I want him broken.”

“He’ll be more than broken,” Caleb promises.

Aaron laughs, the sound brittle. “You think you’re going to scare me out here like a bunch of frat boys in masks playing mafia?”

I crouch beside him. He flinches. “You think we’re pretending? No one’s pretending. You fucked with the wrong woman. And now you’re going to pay for every second of it.”

I motion to Logan. He steps forward, camera up, red light blinking.

“What the hell is this?” Aaron snarls. “You’re recording?”

“Collateral,” I say. “You die, this drops. You talk, it drops. You breathe her name, it drops.”

Aaron turns toward Sienna. “You’re really okay with this? You’re going to let them—”

“I’m not letting them,” she says. “I’m asking them.”

Her voice cuts sharper than any blade we could bring out here.

“Strip him,” I order.

Caleb and Thatcher grab him. He thrashes, curses, but they move fast. Jacket first. Then shirt. He’s lean but not built for this kind of fight. Thatcher knees him in the ribs, and he crumples just enough for Caleb to yank his jeans down to his ankles.

He’s exposed. Dirt smearing his chest. Scratches from the fall. Sweat crawling down his sides.

Sienna doesn’t blink.

Aaron spits at the ground. “What, you want to beat me up now? You going to carve your name into my back like psychos?”

“No,” I laugh. “Should we castrate him?”

Logan points the camera directly at his face.

“You’re going to jerk off,” Caleb says.

His eyes widen. “What?”

“Better man than me,” I say.

“No way in hell,” Aaron scoffs.

I lean close, my voice calm. “Then we cut it off. Film that instead.”

He looks around. No one speaks. The threat isn’t empty. He knows it. He’s not a fool. Just pathetic.

He glances at Sienna again, searching her face for something. Mercy. Guilt. Anything.

She gives him nothing.

“Fuck you,” he mutters.

I nod at Caleb. He steps forward, punches Aaron in the face and grabs him by the hair, forcing him to kneel upright.

“You want her so bad,” Caleb says, low and cold, “then prove it.”

Aaron pulls down his zipper, taking his tiny limp dick out.

“That’s small,” I laugh.

Caleb clicks his tongue. “See what you’re missing out on, Sie?”

“Get on with it,” I taunt.

It takes a minute. Then Aaron’s hand moves.

The silence stretches as he makes himself hard.

“I’m not doing this,” Aaron scoffs.

He’s an entitled asshole, so I walk up and hit him square in the face. He falls back.

“Sienna,” Aaron pleads.

“Don’t say my name,” she spits.

I say, “If you don’t start coming soon…”

Aaron moves his hand, jerking himself off. His breath gets ragged. He squeezes his eyes shut and then his body jerks in stunted rhythm. A sad amount of semen leaves his cock. The angle isn’t flattering. His face looks sick with humiliation.

I don’t look away. Caleb watches, stone-faced. Sienna doesn’t flinch.

When Aaron finishes, it’s not release. It’s defeat. He sags forward, panting, chest heaving.

Logan stops recording, nodding at me.

“You ever contact her again,” I say, “we’ll post that video with your full name, phone number, and school ID. You’ll never work again. You’ll never fuck again. You’ll be the punchline of a thousand jokes.”

Caleb brings Aaron to his feet, dragging him by his shirt. “I thought I could just let that be, but you know what? I change my mind.”

He punches Aaron, causing him to drop to the ground. He knocks out immediately.

Caleb laughs, nudging him with his foot. “Fucking loser. You actually dated this guy?”

I find a stick, grabbing the semen with it and wipe it on Aaron’s face. Then I shove the stick between Aaron’s ass cheeks, so that when he wakes up, it’s a pleasant surprise.

I cut the zip ties, toss his clothes in the dirt. “Leave him here.”

We walk until he’s out of sight.

I turn to Sienna. “You okay?”

She exhales through her nose. “Yeah. Now I am.”

Caleb moves beside her, just close enough that their arms brush. She doesn’t pull away.

I watch her for a moment longer. Then catch up to the rest of the Reapers.

Sienna walks slowly with Caleb.

I nod toward them. “I’ll give you two a minute.”

She meets my gaze, something sharp and unreadable in her eyes. I leave them alone in the clearing, footsteps crunching on pine needles as I disappear into the woods.

Sometimes justice isn’t clean. Sometimes it’s an eye for an eye.

And sometimes, you have to break a man to make a woman whole.