Page 49

RYDER

She left.

She walked out without knowing I’d been two seconds from dropping to my knees and laying everything I was at her feet.

I turned the lock again, and the mechanical click grounded me, giving me something to hold onto before I lost what little control I had left.

I crossed to the sink, gripping the porcelain until my knuckles strained white.

I looked calm and controlled. Clean-cut quarterback.

Heir to the Voss name. Strategic and polished.

Underneath it was nothing but restrained violence and darker urges waiting for permission to break loose.

I felt as if I’d just run thirty laps on the fucking field.

My dick strained against my waistband like it didn’t give a shit that we were in a public bathroom.

Sass had been right; it was disgusting. Not to the naked eye, but in the way hundreds of people had left behind footprints and sweat and other things I didn’t care to name or think about too deeply because it made my fucking skin crawl.

I wouldn’t have fucked her in here even if she begged.

She deserved better than tiled floors with questionable stains and a faulty soap dispenser.

I pulled her Polaroid from my back pocket, the photo slightly bent now.

It didn’t matter. I could still see her through the thick black ink.

Roxxi’s photo was tucked behind it, the only other one I gave a fuck about in that entire stack she’d collected.

I already had the full list of Marked. Xander gave it to us the day after we handled Chess Club.

That’s what our circle did. We watched. We kept tabs. We made moves behind closed doors.

Ashton dropped the news of my girl being Marked while I was lacing my cleats in the locker room.

I knew exactly what it was, a weak ass power move.

I wondered if he truly believed I hadn’t known.

I hated that he had gotten the actual words first, but she said she was going to tell me, and I believed her.

I only needed her to say it out loud. To hear it from her lips, so I could know she trusted me with it.

I tucked her photo back into my pocket, right where it belonged.

I washed my hands, using my elbows to work the sink and the one dispenser that functioned properly, then grabbed a paper towel to open the door.

As I crossed the hallway, my phone went off.

I flipped it around, already guessing who it was from.

1214

Golden boy always gets first pick.

But even trophies get stolen when they’re not guarded properly.

I was not amused. They really needed to come up with a new nickname. I texted back with one hand.

Get some originality. I’m not impressed.

No response came, not that I expected one. Whoever was behind this thought they were clever, but it was always the same old games, same old taunts. They wanted to see how far they could push before I snapped.

They were going to find out.

I backed out of the thread and thumbed over to the group chat with Cade and our dad. A message was sitting there, casual and predictable. He always took time off when we came up.

You boys want to do anything special this weekend?

I typed back:

Down to do whatever as long as what we talked about gets taken care of.

On top of handling a few loose ends that I couldn’t take care of on campus, I had every intention of showing Sanjana exactly what the fuck we were.

I shot one last text off, a quick check-in to Cadence—my little sister, a meme, and a playful threat that she better be staying out of trouble.

She was most likely with Sanjana’s sister, doing whatever it was that fourteen-year-olds did when they had too much money and resources on their hands.

By the time I walked into the main dining room, the music had switched to a track I recognized as my parents' wedding song of all things— Heart and Soul by The Cleftones.

They sang and danced it at every anniversary and holiday party.

Dougie was singing along loud enough for his voice to carry over the crowded atmosphere.

The Nest was always like this after practice meet-ups.

It got worse when we won a game, but we all loved the place.

I dapped up a few guys, nodded to a couple of girls, then slid into the booth beside Brooke.

Cloe was eyeing Macy like she wanted to decapitate her with her straw.

Knowing all the crime shows she binged and the twisted, fascinating shit she read for fun, she could probably get it done clean.

Ari was shooting Xander the death glare of the century as he shamelessly sipped her milkshake.

Roxxi was in a heated conversation with my brother and Nick. Aiden was people watching, as usual.

My girl wasn’t there.

I leaned back in the booth, one arm draped across the top, fingers tapping absently against the leather. Where the fuck was Sanjana?

“You all know now, so you can drop it,” Roxxi responded to something Cade said, her voice sharp and clipped like it always got when she was done putting up with someone’s shit.

He nodded once and gave her some space.

They’d been talking to the girls while I was with Sanj, getting us all on the same page, for the most part. Brooke shifted closer to me, her lips brushing too close for comfort.

“What happened between you two? Is she upset about something?”

I turned my head and stared at her until she visibly swallowed and had the decency to look apologetic.

Brooke had been different ever since that night in my room.

We were supposed to just watch a movie and eat something.

She’d tried to get me to do more the next morning, and I was forced to turn her down as respectfully as I could manage.

I wasn’t fucking her, I didn’t want to fuck her, and I could barely remember the last time was, I had fucked her.

She couldn’t miss the signs that our relationship was drawing to an end, but she still wasn’t about to willingly give up her title.

That didn’t matter to me.

The outcome was going to be the same regardless, and seeing the way she was behaving lately, getting closer to Layla, and more brazen with how she talked to me, it solidified that I’d taken the right approach to how I would finish things.

“Ryder?” she prodded softly.

“Do you talk about the people you’re close with as soon as they leave a room?”

Her smile faltered. Brooke wasn’t cold or cruel, but everyone had limits, and I’d just stepped on one of hers.

She straightened beside me.

“I only wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I get that, but in no shape or form would I ever talk about a friend’s personal issues with you.”

Across the booth, I caught Roxxi watching us before shifting her attention to Ferret.

She was at the booth next to ours, looking at Rook like he was a god.

Nick was now trying and failing not to laugh at him.

Rook ignored them both, focusing on his burger.

Cloe clocked it too with a slight purse of her lips.

She and Roxxi did some kind of girl-talk with Ari, none of them saying a word.

It was a lot like what me and guys did when we had silent conversations.

It took me less than five minutes to take all of this in.

I scanned the room again, slow and measured. I found my girl at the exact moment Olivia Martinez, one of the few friends I was letting her keep, shot me a subtle glance and nodded her head toward the front window.

Deadweight was outside with his back to us.

Sass was with him. I couldn’t see her face, but from his posture alone, I knew it wasn’t a good conversation.

More people were taking notice now. Heads turned, and whispers started to stir.

He stepped forward, and Sass moved away.

One glimpse at her face and I knew that dumb fuck had said something to piss her off.

Rook immediately started to stand, forgetting all about his food.

Nick grabbed his arm before he could fully rise, holding him back from committing murder in public.

My brother caught my eye across the table, his message clear: Don’t move. Not yet.

I barely blinked, and Cloe was out of her seat and halfway across the diner.

“Ashton,” Roxxi spoke his name like a curse, standing up and following her.

Arianna climbed across Xander’s and Cade’s laps with a soft apology, quickly catching up to them.

“I’ll go.” Nick stood and walked away from our booth before any of us could protest or do it ourselves.

I remained seated, watching.

Cloe reached the door just as Ashton’s voice rose, and she stepped back.

Again . There wasn’t enough restraint in the fucking world to keep me sitting there after that.

I was on my feet, moving before I even registered my own actions.

I reached the door right as Sanjana turned toward Nick and murmured a quiet, worn, “Thank you.”

“You never have to thank me for looking out for you,” he told her.

We watched as Cloe, Ari, and Roxxi led her toward Cici’s Range Rover.

Ari climbed into the back seat beside her.

The look on her face--fuck. That was Sanj with too many feelings bottled up.

Stress wrapped in exhaustion beneath whatever bullshit Deadweight had said to make her react the way she had.

I was doing my damndest to give her the illusion of choice, maintain some semblance of a line she could toe to feel like she was still in control.

Seeing her like this made it hard. If she needed to yell or be pissed off, it should be at me for something stupid we’d end up joking about hours later with her wrapped up in my hoodie, in my bed, and in my fucking arms.

This piece of shit, who had barely scraped his way onto my team, was siphoning away all the patience I’d spent years learning to hold onto.

Cloe pulled out of the lot, her windows too dark for me to see Sass now that the doors were closed.

The important thing was that they were taking her home.

The second the taillights vanished, Nick moved closer to Ashton.

His hands were in his pockets, and he was grinning as if they were the best of friends.

“If I ever hear you raise your voice at her again, public or private, I’ll personally show you what a dental plan looks like when you’re drinking your food through a straw.”

Ashton’s jaw tensed, but Nick didn’t pause.

“And in case you missed this somehow, upsetting her pisses off all her friends. That’s never a smart thing to do.” Nick clapped a hand on his shoulder like he’d doled out actual friendly advice. “Anyway. Enjoy your night while you still can.”

Ashton turned to me instead of engaging Nick. “I saw the way you were looking at her.”

Nick sighed. “Damn, he’s slower than I thought.”

I grinned and stared him dead in the eye. “I’m always looking at her. I’ve been doing it longer than you even knew her name. Difference is... she looks back at me.”

I knew that struck when his posture stiffened.

“I don’t want problems with you,” he said tightly.

Cade stepped out of the diner, voice cold and even. “Then don’t make yourself one.”

To his credit, Ashton held his ground. I’ll give him that. Then he spoke again, and I found myself wondering how in the fuck he convinced my girl to give him a chance.

“She’s mine,” he stated loud enough to cut through the murmur of conversation outside The Nest. “No matter what fantasies you’ve got, I fucked her before you did.”

Every conversation around us slowed. Heads turned.

A few of Nick’s hockey teammates came around from the rear patio, drawn by our voices.

Cade stilled beside me. I wanted to break him for talking about her like that, reducing her to another body he’d had.

I stepped in close, so my voice didn’t carry.

“When she was with me, I told her I should thank you for that.”

He blinked, confused. I leaned closer as if I were going to tell him a secret.

“Now, when she’s where she belongs, and make no mistake, she will be, you won’t even be an afterthought.

She’ll be too busy learning how it feels to be ruined nice and slow by someone who knows exactly where to touch and how to keep her begging. ”

He clenched his jaw so hard I heard his teeth grind. For half a second, I thought he might do the smart thing and walk away. I should’ve known better. Ashton had the intelligence of a crackpot goldfish.

He swung.

The throw was sloppy, the kind of punch you toss out when you’re all emotion and no logic.

If he was aiming for me, he missed by a long shot.

Before he could recover, my brother’s fist cracked across his jaw with a sound that snapped the air open.

The impact sent him staggering sideways into a parked car.

He caught himself—barely. His eyes were wild, teeth bared, and he lunged again like a fucking idiot.

The result was a match striking powder.

Students flooded out of The Nest like bloodhounds catching a scent.

Phones were up, voices high, chaos spilling faster than anyone could stop it.

Ashton’s boys were quick to follow his lead, fists raised, forgetting whose names carried weight here.

One of them swung at Nick and caught him in the gut; he retaliated with a gleeful laugh and dropped him.

Two of his hockey teammates joined in without asking questions.

Graves tackled a lineman straight to the asphalt like he’d been itching for the excuse.

Another guy charged blindly toward our side, but he didn’t make it far.

Rook hit him low and hard, grin stretched wide, like he was born for this.

I didn’t know where the fuck he came from or how he wound up outside.

The Nest’s neon lights shone above us, casting the whole scene in an almost holy glow as if the universe had decided to spotlight this moment in Crowsfell history. Dougie burst through the diner doors just in time to dodge a flying root beer bottle.

“Jesus Christ, it’s a Wednesday!” he shouted as it shattered against the building.

Inside, the staff barely reacted. One waitress shook her head with a visible sigh, still balancing a tray of milkshakes.

They knew better than to get involved. I stayed where I’d been standing since the start of it all, leaning back against the brick wall outside the main doors, pulling my phone out to check the time.

I laughed when a text came in right on point.

Uncle B

You have 20 minutes.

As the Chief of Police, when he said twenty, it meant we had eighteen and a half before flashing lights showed up and started asking questions none of us were going to answer.