Page 86 of For Crosby

I shook my head. “I don’t think he does. But it’s online for anyone who bothers to look. I didn’t catch it at first. Your last name isn’t the same as your father’s.”

“What do you want?”

“The better question is what do you want? It wasn’t Crosby who hurt you. You get that, right? It was his parents and they’re both in jail.”

“They took everything from us.”

“So, you’re gonna destroy Crosby’s future?”

“Why not?”

“What about mine?”

His brows climbed. “Yours?”

“I know about the video.”

He said nothing, but the vindictiveness in his eyes and the subtle grin tugging up the sides of his mouth said it all. He had no remorse.

I glared back at him, disgusted by the mere sight. “Did you get off watching us together, you sick bastard?”

He rolled his eyes.

“You jealous he got what you didn’t?” I kept pushing, hoping he’d snap and reveal what he’d done.

He scoffed.

“You act like you don’t care, but it’s one more thing he took from you. And we both know he’s better than you at hockey.”

“He’s not better than me,” he said.

“I’ve seen him play. He’s headed for the pros. You know it and I know it.”

“Not if I have anything to do with it,” he murmured.

“You’ve already had something to do with it. You wrecked his chances with the scout,” I said.

“You’ve got no proof of that.”

“You’re right. But I do have proof you tied him to that tree.”

“Sure you do.”

“Your teammates aren’t as loyal as you think. How do you think I know about the video?”

Anger brewed in his eyes.

“Karma’s a bitch, Potter. And so am I.” With that I spun away and took off, knowing he was shooting daggers at me with his eyes. I lifted my hand into the air and flipped him off.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Sabrina

Dean Edwards and I stared at each other across his desk. It was the first time I’d been back since the tree incident. So much had happened since then. And as I sat there, with my phone in my hand, I wished I’d told him what I’d known right from the beginning. It would have saved us all a lot of unnecessary trouble.

I placed my phone on the dean’s desk, turning up the volume to be sure he didn’t miss a word. Mathews’ voice filled the office, our earlier conversation recorded specifically for the dean.

Dean Edwards sat there, watching my phone.

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