Page 21 of Freestyle (Boys of Frampton U #2)

Grayson

W e wake up alone, just as I expected. I sigh as I turn over to see Phoenix staring at me.

“We knew she would run,” I say. Phoenix nods in agreement, a frown forming on his lips.

I glance around the room, my eyes landing on the discarded clothes from last night.

The memory of our heated encounter floods back, igniting a spark of desire within me once again.

Phoenix sits up, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

“We need information,” he suggests.

I nod, already formulating a plan.

“We’ll start with Lyndsy. She must know something,” I respond, determination lacing my tone. We both dress quickly, adrenaline pumping through our veins as we prepare for our mission.

Our bodies move in perfect harmony as we exit the room and head towards Willowbrook Hall.

As we approach Rowyn’s dorm, the air crackles with anticipation.

We knock on the door, ready to confront Lyndsy and get the answers we crave.

After a few moments, the door swings open, revealing a surprised Lyndsy.

She hesitates, her eyes darting between us before landing on me.

“Can I help you?” she asks cautiously.

“We’re here to talk about Rowyn,” I state bluntly.

Phoenix cuts in, his voice dripping with determination. “We need to know everything about her, Lyndsy. Everything.”

Her eyes widen as she steps back, allowing us entry into her room. “What’s going on? Why do you need to know?” she asks, suspicion lacing her tone.

“Rowyn’s been avoiding us, and we need to understand why. We care about her, Lyndsy,” Phoenix explains, his voice filled with sincerity,

Her eyes snap to mine. “You fucked her, didn’t you?” she accuses, her voice dripping with venom .

“We didn’t just fuck her,” Nix growls, his eyes blazing. “We claimed her.”

Lyndsy’s eyes widen, her mouth falling open in shock. “You did what?”

“Rowyn belongs to us now,” I state, my voice firm and unyielding. “And we’re not letting her go.”

Lyndsy’s gaze flickers between us, disbelief clear in her expression. “You can’t be serious,” she says, shaking her head. “Rowyn doesn’t date, like ever. How you got her to sleep with you, I’ll never know.”

Phoenix chuckles, a low sound that holds a hint of danger. “Oh, we’re dead serious, sweetheart. And trust us, it didn’t take much convincing.”

“She’s scared about something, and we need to know what. She’s avoiding us like the plague,” I admit.

Lyndsy crosses her arms over her chest, her expression hardening.

“Probably because you two are the biggest playboys on this campus. She knows you guys have a reputation, and she’s smart enough to stay away from you.

” Lyndsy scoffs, clearly not impressed. “I’m sure she doesn’t want to be just another notch on your bedposts. ”

“Fuck!” Phoenix growls, slamming his fist against the wall. “I can’t believe we didn’t see it sooner. It’s her past, isn’t it? What happened? ”

“I don’t know everything. She was in a ton of foster homes before she turned eighteen. Something happened in one of them. I only know because she was drunk one night and kept talking about someone named Albie,” Lyndsy says, crossing her arms.

“Who the fuck is that?” I ask. “Did he hurt her?”

“I think so, but I can’t remember what she said.”

“We need to find out who he is,” I state, my eyes narrowing in anger.

“I will make a few calls and see what I can find,” Nix replies, pulling out his phone.

“We need to keep a close eye on her, make sure she’s safe,” I add.

Nix nods, his expression darkening. “No one touches what’s ours and gets away with it.”

Nix pulls out his phone, dialing a number quickly. “We need to figure out how to fix this, how to show her that she can trust us, that she’s safe with us.”

“Thanks for the tip, sis,” I throw out as we begin walking down the hall. We need to get to Nix’s computer to do a background check on Rowyn.

Nix quickly types in a few commands, and within seconds, information begins to pop up on the screen.

“Got it. Rowyn Caddel, nineteen years old. Grew up in foster care, bounced around to different homes until she aged out of the system at eighteen. No criminal record, but there is a note here about a juvenile record.” He clicks on the note, and more information appears.

“Accessory to grand auto theft. She was fourteen at the time.”

“What the hell was she thinking?” I mutter, leaning in to read more.

“Looks like she’s been keeping her nose clean since then.

No more arrests, and she’s working her way through college.

Wait...” I trail off as a thought occurs to me.

“What’s this note about? Alberto? Would that be the Albie Lyndsy was talking about?

” I point to the screen, and Nix clicks on the link.

The file loads, and we’re hit with a wave of information.

“Alberto was Rowyn’s foster brother. He’s in a mental facility now.

Antisocial Personality Disorder (ASPD).” Nix skims through the report.

“It’s only flagged in her files because he had police called on him during her stay there.

Other than that it doesn’t say much else, but it looks like he’s been in there for a while. ”

“Damn,” I breathe out. “That’s rough. No wonder she’s so closed off. I wonder what he did to her. For some reason, I know this guy did something. It’s just a feeling.”

Nix nods, his eyes still scanning the screen. “It says here that she’s currently employed as a waitress at the Quad Bar and Grill.”

He glances at me. “We’re going there.”

I grin, already thinking of the possibilities. “I was about to say the same thing.”

The bar is alive with the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses, a chaotic symphony that fades into the background as Phoenix and I settle into our seats.

The rich aroma of fried food and beer fills the air, but my senses sharpen as Rowyn appears, weaving through the crowd with a tray of drinks balanced on her arm, her movements fluid and confident.

As she approaches, my heart races, a primal instinct kicking in.

Her hair is pulled back in a ponytail, emphasizing the delicate curve of her neck.

The tight black tank top clings to her curves like a second skin, paired with a skirt so short it barely conceals anything.

The sight of her ignites a fierce mix of pride and possessiveness within me .

“Look at her… damn,” Nix murmurs, his voice low, eyes narrowing as he watches other men glance in Rowyn’s direction. I can see his jaw tightening, muscles coiling with frustration. A surge of protectiveness washes over me, the thought of those guys ogling her igniting a fire in my chest.

“Yeah, I know,” I reply, my voice barely above a whisper, laced with a simmering tension.

Phoenix clenches his fists, frustration palpable as he observes the shameless stares. “Those assholes need to back off. She’s not available,” he growls through gritted teeth, and I can feel the heat radiating off him.

I nod in agreement, my gaze locked on Rowyn as she laughs with a customer, the sound both intoxicating and infuriating. It makes my heart ache with a blend of admiration and jealousy. Phoenix shifts in his seat, his expression darkening as a particularly bold guy leans in closer to her.

I watch as Rowyn shifts, her body language tense yet composed as she laughs politely at something the customer says. But there’s a tightness in her shoulders, a flicker of unease in her eyes, so quick most wouldn’t catch it.

Except I do, and so does Nix.

The guy leans in closer, too close, invading her space like he owns it. My grip tightens around the edge of the table, jaw locked. I hate the way he looks at her, like she’s some prize to be won rather than a person who deserves respect.

I can feel the tension building between us, both of us instinctively knowing we need to protect her from the unwanted attention. The possessiveness surges within me, fueled by the desire to keep her safe and close.

Rowyn steps back subtly, creating distance, but he’s persistent.

His fingers brush against her arm, lingering in a way that turns my stomach.

Then, without hesitation, he lets his hand drop lower, grazing her ass like he has the right.

Without warning, he pulls Rowyn into his lap, and I can see the fear cross her face.

She’s perched stiffly on his lap, his arm wrapped around her waist, holding her there like he has a damn right to.

My vision tunnels.

Rowyn’s expression is tight, her body rigid with unease. She’s not playing along, not engaging, just enduring and it makes something inside me snap.

Before I can move, Nix is already on his feet.

“You got about two seconds to let her go,” he says, voice low, lethal.

That’s all it takes.

I lunge forward, ripping him up by his collar, but his drunken weight makes him stumble, and suddenly his arm swings wildly, aiming for me. Rowyn jumps up and moves to the other side of the table.

It happens fast.

He misses his mark, his balance thrown off by the liquor coursing through his veins. His fist veers sideways—and collides with Rowyn’s cheek instead.

She gasps, jerking back, shock flashing in her eyes.

Everything in me snaps.

I don’t think.

I act.

Before the guy can register what just happened, Nix is already there. His fist connects hard with the guy’s gut, doubling him over. I grab his shirt, shoving him off the chair and onto the floor with enough force that he crashes against the nearest table, glasses rattling in the wake.

He groans, trying to push himself up, but I don’t give him the chance. I grip his collar again, yanking him forward, my knuckles white with the restraint it’s taking to not go further.

“You just hit her,” I growl, voice barely recognizable under the fury roaring through me. “You’re done.”