Page 9

Chapter 9

Scarlett

This can’t be fucking happening.

My fingers slide from the soft tire as I stand, frustration flooding me enough to make me want to cry. God knows I’m tired. Why the fuck can’t they stop picking on me?

A stray tear runs down my cheek and I swipe it away angrily. I should be reporting to Melissa in ten minutes, yet here I am on the other side of the campus, just done with a physiology practical, only to arrive at the stand to find my bike tires slashed in half. For a guy who parades this mature vibe, Aiden is sure acting juvenile.

After losing those two hours in my first week, I can’t afford to miss a day of work when I’m already dying to get done with this internship. Calling it a day, that’s not an option. This twenty-minute walk to the other side will be done in ten minutes, so help me God.

Sliding my other arm through the handle of my bag, I secure it on my back and start power walking down the corridor. A white sedan pulls up beside me a minute later. The driver’s window slides down and his Colgate-commercial smile greets me.

“Hey, Scar.”

I raise my brows at him and keep walking. Ryan Chandler has taken most of my classes over the last four years and has never said a word to me. Since when am I Scar?

“If you’re looking for someone to do that assignment, you’re barking up the wrong tree,” I huff. From what I overheard during his conversation with our lecturer, he’s at risk for failing the course if it’s not ready by the end of the week.

“Nah, I don’t need any help. I’ve got that in the bag,” he says breezily. “You seem in a hurry. I’m only wondering if you’d like a ride somewhere.”

“Why?” I ask suspiciously.

“I just told you; don’t you want to get to wherever you’re going?”

I pause for a beat. “Why are you offering me a ride? You’ve never once exchanged a word with me.”

Ryan scoffs softly. “How could I, when your face is always screwed like you’re ready to punch someone’s light out? I’m not sure if anyone has ever told you, but you’re not exactly approachable.”

I resume walking. “Yet, you’re approaching me now.”

“Because you’re sweating like hell in sixty-degree weather. Save your energy. Let me give you a ride.”

Pausing again, I contemplate. I actually am exhausted. Doing chores around the house before classes, cycling twenty minutes to Hempton then sitting through three long classes, that’s no small feat. Another hour of running around the sports department won’t be easy, either. I should take the offer and make my life easy for at least five minutes.

“Okay, fine,” I concede, moving around the other side and sliding into the leather seat. The car interior looks quite pristine, almost as if he bought it off the lot a few days ago. Not a speck of dirt anywhere.

Ryan tries to make small talk but gives up after a minute when I only respond with one-word answers. We travel in silence for another few minutes, until he takes a left turn instead of the expected right.

“I’m going to the sports department,” I remind him.

“I know,” he replies. “There’s a shortcut that will get us there faster.”

Shortcut? I’ve been attending Hempton for almost four years and I know all the shortcuts. Getting to the sports department has only one route. I twist in the seat, glaring at him. “What are you doing?”

“Chill,” he says gruffly, all friendliness now gone. His jawline tightens as he focuses on the road ahead.

The campus gates approach and I pull at the door handle, but it doesn’t budge. “Let me out,” I order.

“No can do, sweetheart. I’ve been paid a heavy sum to keep you away from the game and I’d like to keep my money, thank you very much.”

Aiden. I should’ve known that jerk would keep messing with me. “Ryan, stop the car or I’m going to report you to the cops.”

He laughs. “My dad is friends with the police chief. You’d be wasting your time.”

Ignoring him, I reach into my bag for the phone, anyway. My hand stops rummaging when it touches something hard and cold. The car sails through the front gates and I press the scalpel at the side of his neck.

“Stop the car, asshole.”

Ryan glances sideways at me, his face going red. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Stop the fucking car!” I screech.

The car slows down on the long stretch of road leading from Hempton. The central lock disengages as Ryan presses a button on his end and I jump out, dragging my bag as I go.

Anger spurns me on and I make quick work of the short distance to the sports department. Melissa looks me over with concern as I burst into her office, out of breath and dripping with sweat. She allows me to take a few minutes to cool down and wipe myself with a napkin, after which she instructs me to take some boxes to the filing room upstairs. Instead of making my way back to her when I’m done, I head down the hallway that leads to the hockey headquarters. Aiden is just like those girls back in high school. He won’t back down until I show that I’m not scared of him.

Even though I’m still quaking in these sneakers.

Taking a deep breath to calm my nerves, I step into the locker room. The buzzing from their chatter immediately stops. All eyes are on me, filled with shock and anger, only one with admiration—Cameron, but my focus is on one guy only.

He stands at his opened locker, one hand resting on the door, the other clutching a white T-shirt, his expression giving me nothing. In this moment, I don’t care what he thinks or feels. The only thing I need is for him to hear the words coming out of my mouth.

In unison, the guys part as I walk between them, finally stopping at their captain’s feet. Aiden lifts his chin and wets his lips. Something flashes in his eyes, though briefly. Amusement.

He’s getting off from what he’s doing to me, but we’ll see who has the last laugh. I push up on my toes, meeting his wary look.

“You’re a coward,” I whisper. “And I’m sick of your little pranks. They don’t scare me. You don’t scare me.”

His eyes sparkle with malice. He sees right through my lie. Again, he wets his lips but says nothing.

“You think I’m out for you. Please. Get over yourself. I don’t give a rat's ass about whether you win a game but if I did, if I really wanted to fuck with you, believe me, no one would ever know it was me. Check my GPA. I’m the smartest kid in our year.”

Aiden’s expression settles. For the first time, an uncertain look settles in his eyes. I back off, addressing the entire room.

“I’ve done nothing to deserve the shit you’ve done to me—pun intended,” I hear the quiver in my voice as I look directly at Noah. He lashes me with a murderous look. “All I want is to complete my hours and move on with my life. Please, just leave me alone. Otherwise, I’ll take this to the authorities.”

Without waiting for a reply, I dash out. Almost through the door, I hear Noah bark, “Aiden, are you really going to let that bitch get away with talking to us like that?”

If Aiden replies, I don’t hear it. My legs take me a decent distance from the locker room before they give way outside the equipment room. I sink to my knees, sobbing out the pent-up anxiety I held back while facing those monsters, praying my performance showed that I’m stronger than they think. If not, they’re going to come much harder than before. I don’t want any trouble, but if it means getting the school involved, I will. The Wolves might be gods of Hempton, but they’re not beyond reproach—

“Scarlett.”

A pair of sneaker-clad feet moves into my vision and I gasp with surprise, looking up to meet Aiden’s deadpan stare. He offers his hand. After a tentative delay, I cautiously take it. He pulls me to stand and although there’s no spite on his face, I still brace for a negative response.

“I’m sorry.”

My entire body goes rigid with shock as the two words rush from his mouth. I gape at him, waiting for him to quickly take them back. There’s no way he meant them. Aiden Hunter is incapable of saying anything remotely nice to me.

Instead of proving me right, he clears his throat and says, “It’s time we discuss what happened that night.”