Page 107 of Cold Carnage

Not right now.

I'd wasted so much time thinking about her.

Miss Adams saw through me too easily, and I hated it. Her eyes cut through my defenses like a blade. She seemed to read every hidden intention, every buried emotion. It made me feel exposed, vulnerable—things I’d long sworn off feeling.

Damn her.

But as much as I wanted to hate her for it, a part of me respected her ability to peel back layers that no one else had managed to touch. And maybe that was what scared me the most.

I pushed open the heavy doors and stepped inside. The cold air hit me first, sharp and unforgiving. My footsteps echoed on the concrete floor as I made my way toward the locker rooms. Players were scattered around, some prepping for practice, others lost in their own worlds.

As I approached the front desk, a young woman with auburn hair and bright eyes looked up from her paperwork. Her gaze settled on me, recognition flashing across her face.

"Oh, Mr. Crowder," she said, a touch of surprise in her voice. "Welcome."

I let a slow smile spread across my face, leaning slightly on the counter. "Well, howdy there," I drawled, letting my Southern accent pour out like honey. "I'm here for a psych eval."

Her cheeks flushed slightly, and she quickly gathered herself. "Of course, Mr. Crowder. Dr. Livingston's office is on the third floor. Just take the elevator to your left and follow the signs."

"Much obliged," I replied with a wink.

She giggled softly before nodding and returning to her work. I turned toward the elevator she indicated, my steps making a steady thud on the polished floor. The lobby was mostly empty at this hour, something I was grateful for.

I reached the elevator and pressed the button, watching as the numbers descended slowly from above. When it finally arrived with a soft ding, I stepped inside and pressed '3.' The doors slid shut with a quiet hum, enclosing me in a metallic cocoon.

The elevator moved smoothly upward, each floor passing with a muted click until it reached its destination. The doorsopened to reveal a hallway lined with office doors, each bearing neat plaques with names and titles.

Following the secretary's directions, I navigated through the corridor until I found Dr. Livingston's office. The door was ajar, revealing a room filled with bookshelves and certificates framed on the walls.

Taking a deep breath, I knocked gently on the doorframe before stepping inside.

"Dr. Livingston?"

A young woman looked up from behind the desk, her eyes widening slightly before a flicker of annoyance crossed her face.

"Actually, no, he's on sabbatical, but I…" Her voice trailed off as she stared at me, realization dawning in her eyes.

I blinked. Something about her seemed familiar.

"Jared Crowder?" she asked, a scoff escaping her lips. "Of course. I knew I should have prepped before taking over for Livingston."

A slow grin spread across my face as I stepped into the room. "Well, as I live and breathe," I said, unable to hide my amusement. "Isla."

Isla Sawyer. Ava's kid sister. She'd grown up since the last time I'd seen her, that was for sure. I remembered Kash mentioning she went to school for psychology, but I'd never kept up with her. Not when my focus had always been on Ava.

Isla straightened in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest defensively. "What are you doing here, Crowder?"

"Needed a psych eval," I replied casually, leaning against the doorframe. "Didn't expect to see you here."

She raised an eyebrow, skepticism written all over her face. "Really? You need a psych eval? Why does that not surprise me?"

I shrugged. "Orders from the top."

Her eyes narrowed slightly as if she was trying to read between the lines of my words. She always had that sharpness about her, even when she was younger.

"Fail." Isla's voice cut through the air like a knife. "You fail."

I chuckled, spreading my hands wide in mock surrender. "Come on now, sugar. Give a man a chance."

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