Chapter 4
Damien
I walked out of Pandora's Box, adrenaline still pulsing through my veins, but I felt it fade the moment I stepped into the empty parking lot. Crestwood’s summer heat wrapped around me like a thick blanket, stifling and oppressive. No dorm room to crash in. No escape from my father’s watchful eye.
The drive home felt longer than usual, the engine humming beneath me while my thoughts spiraled back to Holly. She stood frozen in that rink, eyes wide with realization as I waved.
A warning?
A fucking promise.
But it was more than that—she was still mine.
Pulling into the driveway of our sprawling family home, I swallowed hard. My father awaited me on the front porch, tall and broad like a statue carved from ice. His blond hair gleamed in the late afternoon sun, and those piercing blue eyes pinned me in place as I approached. An older version of me—the face of perfection, an image I could never live up to.
“What were you thinking?” His voice boomed, slicing through the summer air like a slap. “You embarrassed yourself out there today.”
I clenched my fists at my sides, holding back a retort. He inserted himself into everything that might reflect poorly on him.
“You had one job,” he continued, stepping down from the porch to tower over me. “A charity game—this was supposed to be about community and goodwill.”
“Logan Hartley needed a reality check,” I shot back, defiance bubbling just below the surface.
His brow furrowed deeply as he glared at me, disappointment radiating off him in waves. “This isn’t just about you or your vendetta against him! This is about the Sinclaire name.” He paced in front of me like a predator assessing its prey. “Every time you act out like this, you tarnish what we’ve built.”
“What we built?” I scoffed, the bitterness spilling out before I could contain it. “You mean what you built. You don’t care about anything but appearances.”
His eyes narrowed dangerously as he closed the gap between us. “Don’t get smart with me, Damien,” he warned softly yet firmly.
I felt his anger press against my chest; it suffocated me more than any lecture ever could.
“I don’t care if Logan is your rival or not,” he said through gritted teeth. “What matters is that you learn how to control yourself and show some respect.”
I bit back another retort; each word landed like a blow against my resolve.
“Do better next time.”
My pulse quickened with frustration; nothing ever changed between us.
I felt the weight of my father’s gaze like a noose tightening around my throat. The anger simmering in my chest flared again, but I forced it down. I didn’t need to give him more fuel for his condescending fire.
“Oh,” he said, his tone sharp and accusatory. “I heard about Holly Walker being part of the committee.”
I braced myself.
“You are not to involve yourself with her.” His voice sliced through the air, colder than any winter night on the ice. “You’ve already ruined her. Her father wants nothing to do with you, but because I’m involved, you have to be.”
My heart raced, a wild beat against the constraints of his words. It wasn’t my fault she was assigned to someone else; I’d heard the gossip echoing in every corner of this campus, just like I always did.
“It’s not my fault if she’s assigned to me?—”
“She won’t be,” he interrupted flatly. “You already know this. I’m sure you heard.”
I had heard all right. I kept my ear close to the ground for anything concerning Holly. She’d never truly left my world; that wasn’t an option for either of us. That was why I sent her that text earlier—to remind her I was still watching, still aware of everything she did.
“Who is she partnered with?” The question slipped out before I could swallow it down, and frustration prickled at the edges of my composure.
“I don’t know, and frankly, I don’t care,” he replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. “And neither should you.” He stepped back from me, crossing his arms like a judge passing sentence. “Now, get inside and take an ice bath.”
A thousand retorts danced on my tongue, but none found their way past clenched teeth as I turned away from him. Ice bath? What did he think that would accomplish? This was more than just physical exertion; this was about control—his control over me—and I refused to give in.
As I strode into the house, each step pounded out an undeniable truth: whatever plans they had for Holly wouldn’t last long. She was back in Crestwood now, and so was I. Nothing would keep us apart this time.
I stormed into the basement, where my father had a specially crafted bathroom just for this. I needed to cool off, so I filled the tub with ice-cold water and added a few bags of ice for good measure. The chill seeped into my skin as I sank in, but it was nothing compared to the heat boiling in my gut.
Just as I settled in, my phone buzzed on the bench beside me. I fished it out, squinting at the screen. Derrick’s name flashed across it. A single message awaited:
Logan Hartley.
Fury ignited inside me like a flame hitting gasoline. Logan. The golden boy who’d always played the part of the perfect athlete—just the kind of guy Holly thought she could cozy up to.
She smiled at him today.
Fucking smiled.
That image replayed in my mind, her laughter echoing as she gazed up at him with those warm eyes—eyes that used to look at me that way before everything fell apart.
She thinks he’s safe?
My fingers tightened around the phone, knuckles white against its surface. It felt like she was twisting a knife deeper into an already festering wound. She wanted to pretend I didn’t exist? Fine.
I gritted my teeth against the cold water lapping around me, imagining Logan's cocky grin as he flirted with her—acting like he owned her attention now that she was so fucking involved. But what he didn’t understand was that Holly had been mine long before he even knew her name.
This was a game, and she thought she could play without consequences? She had no idea who she was messing with.
I pushed myself upright, feeling the icy water trickle down my back, mixing with the fire burning inside me.
She’s going to lose.
With each heartbeat, my resolve solidified. I wouldn’t let her forget who truly held power here—not now and not ever.
I leaned forward, staring hard at my reflection in the tub's surface. She might have walked away once, but this time would be different. I’d show her just how unforgettable I could be—and how stupid it was to underestimate me or our history.
The smile on her face when she looked at Logan would turn into something else entirely—a reminder that no matter how far she tried to run from me, I would always be right there behind her, waiting for my chance to remind her what we once had.
I climbed out of the ice bath, the cold still clinging to my skin as I shook off the last remnants of discomfort. I couldn’t linger on the chill; my mind buzzed with plans, each thought sharper than the last. Logan Hartley had put himself in my sights, and I would be damned if I let him think he could play the hero in Holly’s story.
I paced across the tiled floor, adrenaline still pumping through me as I recalled Logan’s routine. It wasn’t hard to remember; he was predictable—like every other jock trying to win a popularity contest.
I made sure to look into him when I heard what he and Holly were up to. There was a reason I paid Derrick what I did. He told me everything when it came to her.
Afternoons found him in the gym, pumping iron like it would somehow elevate his status among his peers. I imagined him grunting under weights, surrounded by sycophants who praised him for showing up to lift heavy things. It made me smirk.
Wednesdays were for his ritual at that off-campus bar—the one filled with washed-up athletes and wannabes drowning their mediocrity in cheap beer and loud music. Holly might think she was safe there with him, but that was where I’d catch her slipping away from reality. Maybe she'd be laughing at some lame joke he told, completely unaware of how much of a loser he truly was.
But the late-night runs? That was where Logan showed his true colors—when no cameras were around, and he thought he could disappear into the woods behind the athletic dorms without anyone watching.
Those runs were my favorite. The dark kept secrets well, but it wouldn’t hide him from me.
I grinned at the thought of stalking him like prey through those familiar trails—the adrenaline rush of being unseen while plotting his downfall felt electric. With every step he took under that cloak of night, I’d be right there behind him, just out of sight.
This time, when he glanced over his shoulder in fear or doubt, it wouldn’t be because of some passing shadow; it would be because I was back—and this time, I wasn’t letting Holly slip through my fingers again.
My heart raced as I grabbed a towel and dried off quickly. I had work to do—each detail meticulously laid out in my mind like a blueprint for revenge. The game had only just begun, and Logan had no idea what was coming for him.
The night air felt electric as I waited, muscles coiled tight like a spring ready to snap. Logan had his routine, and I’d studied every inch of it. The woods behind the athletic dorms offered the perfect cover, the shadows dancing with every flicker of moonlight.
I heard him before I saw him—heavy footsteps on the gravel, breath steady, oblivious to everything around him. Headphones in, he focused on his rhythm, lost in his world while mine twisted into something darker. This was my moment.
I stepped onto the trail just as he rounded a bend, catching him off guard. The collision happened in an instant; I slammed into him like a freight train, sending us both crashing into the dirt. The impact knocked the wind from me for a split second, but I reveled in the surprise that flashed across his face.
He struggled beneath me, fists flailing wildly as he tried to regain control of the situation. One punch landed against my jaw—a solid hit—but it felt like nothing more than a gentle tap.
I laughed softly, relishing this moment of chaos.
“Nice try,” I muttered through a grin.
Logan's eyes widened in disbelief as he realized who had taken him down. He was scrambling now, his earlier bravado faltering as he pushed against my chest to get up. But I wasn’t finished yet.
I leaned closer, holding him down with just enough pressure to keep him pinned without crushing him completely. My smile widened as I savored his growing frustration.
“What’s wrong? Thought you were tougher than this?” My voice dripped with mockery.
He shot back another punch, but I dodged it easily this time, the rush of adrenaline heightening my senses. Logan glared at me through gritted teeth; I could see how hard he fought against panic.
“Get off me,” he hissed, but there was no real conviction behind it—just desperation laced with confusion.
“No can do,” I said cheerfully.
Logan’s eyes widened as the realization hit him—this wasn’t just a fight. I didn’t need weapons. My fists were enough.
I jabbed sharply into his ribs, feeling the air rush out of him. The satisfaction surged through me, and I followed up with a brutal right hook to his jaw. His head snapped back, and for a moment, the world seemed to hang in the balance.
Then I closed the distance again, my hand wrapping around his throat, fingers tightening just enough to make him aware of my control.
“You like her?” I asked, my voice low and even. “You think you have a shot? That’s cute.”
He gasped, his eyes bulging as he clawed at my grip. The panic surged in his gaze, but that only fueled me further.
I leaned in closer, keeping my voice calm—too calm—as if we were sharing secrets rather than locked in this brutal standoff.
“Stay the fuck away from Holly.”
I held his stare long enough to see the fear flicker across his face before I finally let go. The weight of him crumpling against the ground felt satisfying, like dropping an anchor after holding it for too long.
Logan coughed violently as he tried to catch his breath, still staring up at me with a mix of shock and disbelief.
I straightened up, shaking off the adrenaline coursing through my veins. This wasn’t about being reckless; it was about making sure he understood exactly where he stood with me—and with her.
His breathing steadied, but the fight had left him; I could see it in how he struggled to find his footing again.
“Next time,” I said softly, almost conversationally as if we were discussing casual plans rather than this violent encounter, “think twice before you get too comfortable.”
I crouched low, feeling the rush of power as I grabbed Logan’s wrist. He looked up at me, confusion turning to fear as he realized I had no intention of letting him go. With a swift motion, I twisted his hand, hearing the sickening crunch as I broke three of his fingers.
He let out a strangled cry, his face contorting in pain. It was music to my ears.
“Don’t play with fire if you can’t handle getting burned,” I hissed before releasing him. He crumpled to the ground, clutching his hand like it was a lifeline.
I stepped back, rolling my shoulders to shake off the tension that came with violence. A sense of calm washed over me as I walked away from the scene, leaving Logan writhing in agony behind me. I had already won this round.
He wouldn’t go to the cops; that would make him look weak. The last thing a guy like Logan wanted was to be labeled as someone who couldn’t handle himself on and off the ice. But I knew he would tell someone—he had to. His ego wouldn’t allow him to keep this quiet.
Logan Hartley’s days of playing hockey just got a lot more complicated.
As I stepped into the shadows of the trees lining the path, I felt satisfaction settle in my gut. Tomorrow, Dean Walker would call me in for a chat, and it would be clear what happened between us—though Logan wouldn’t confirm it outright. No need for him to implicate himself further.
Perfect.
This was all part of the plan—everything unfolding exactly how I wanted it to. The thought of Dean Walker’s face when he learned about Logan’s injury made me grin.
It meant one thing: Holly would be back in my orbit sooner than later, whether she liked it or not. And once she understood that nothing could stand between us again—not her choices or her safe little world—I’d make sure she remembered just how powerful we were together.
I could already feel her pulling at me from across campus, and this time? There was no escaping it.
I sat on the edge of my bed, the adrenaline from the encounter with Logan still coursing through my veins. The satisfaction of seeing him crumble under my grip settled like a warm blanket over my shoulders. It felt good to remind him who he was dealing with.
But there was one more thing I needed to do before sleep claimed me.
I picked up my phone, feeling the weight of it in my hand as I hovered over Holly’s name in my contacts. She wouldn’t see this coming, not after her little victory today, thinking she could smile at Logan without consequence. I grinned at the thought, a predatory instinct bubbling beneath the surface.
I tapped out a quick message; the words rolling off my fingers like they had a life of their own.
You’re going to regret that smile, little lamb.
I hit send and watched the screen for a moment, half-expecting her to reply. But nothing came back. Not even a flicker of acknowledgment.
She didn’t have to respond; I knew that silence would gnaw at her all night long. I relished it.
The clock on my wall ticked away the seconds while I leaned back against the wall, letting my mind drift to tomorrow.
Tomorrow?
Tomorrow she wouldn’t be able to avoid me anymore. The charity game was just around the corner, and we’d be thrust into each other’s paths. She might think she could play it safe with Logan, but I’d make sure that illusion shattered faster than he could pick himself up off that ice.
I smiled at the thought as I tossed my phone onto the bed and lay back, staring at the ceiling above me. The room felt too quiet, too still—like everything was waiting for what came next.
And deep down? I knew Holly would soon remember why she couldn’t just walk away from me—not now, not ever.