Page 22 of Cold Carnage

I sat back for a moment, letting my eyes rest from the screen’s brightness. I hadn’t noticed how tired I was until that moment, but my focus hadn’t wavered. I had to get this right.For the team, for myself. I stretched my neck, rubbing the tension from my shoulders, ready to dive back into work.

I barely heard the footsteps until they were right behind me. I turned, startled, to find Ryker standing in the doorway, his expression unreadable but his eyes intense. My heart skipped a beat—I hadn’t expected anyone to still be here, let alone him. He stepped into the office, his presence filling the room with a quiet tension.

“Still working?” he asked, his tone almost casual, though his eyes were sharp.

I forced a smile, though I could sense something more behind his words. There was no way this was a casual conversation. “Yeah. The scandal isn’t going to clean itself up.”

Ryker crossed his arms, leaning against the edge of my desk, watching me closely. “You’re putting in the hours. Impressive. And here I thought you'd bail."

I wasn’t sure if that was a compliment, or an observation laced with sarcasm. “It’s my job. And I don't run from things."

He scoffed.

For a moment, neither of us spoke, the silence thick with unspoken tension. I could feel the weight of his gaze on me, and it unsettled me in a way I didn’t like. I was about to turn back to my work when Ryker broke the silence.

“Why are you really here so late?” His voice softened, losing its earlier edge.

I glanced at my laptop screen, then back at him. “I need to make sure everything is perfect for tomorrow’s press release. It has to be airtight.”

He studied me for a long moment, as if searching for something beneath my words. “What are you trying to prove?"

My hands stilled over the keyboard. That wasn’t what I expected from him. “Nothing,” I said quietly.

“I’ve been hearing things,” he said, his tone casual but his words cutting. “About your time at Michigan. Specifically, about your relationship with the assistant coach. Around the time you left Brendan. Convenient, isn't it?"

My fingers hovered over the keyboard, freezing in place. The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I turned slowly, meeting Ryker’s gaze, my heart pounding in my chest. How did he know about that? I had worked hard to bury that part of my past, to keep my personal life separate from my professional reputation.

“What are you talking about?” I asked, my voice calm but with an edge of warning.

Ryker raised an eyebrow. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. I heard about the rumors. You and the assistant coach. From what I gather, you did a pretty good job of keeping things under wraps. Even with Brendan, when you were with him."

My blood ran cold. I stood, the tension in my body building. “That’s none of your business,” I snapped, my voice sharper than I intended.

Ryker didn’t flinch. If anything, my reaction seemed to amuse him. “It is my business if you’re pulling the same tricks here. If you fucked my brother over because your spread your legs like a fucking slut."

The words stung like a lash, anger boiling up inside me. Before I knew it, my hand flew across his face, the sound of the slap echoing in the empty office.

His head snapped to the side, and for a split second, there was silence. Then his eyes flashed with something dark and dangerous. He grabbed my wrist with a vice-like grip, squeezing it hard enough that I could feel the bones grinding together.

"You have no idea what you just did," he growled, his voice low and threatening as he loomed over me.

I yanked my arm, trying to break free, but his grip tightened. Pain shot up my arm, but I refused to show any weakness. "Let go of me," I hissed, glaring up at him.

His eyes bore into mine, a storm brewing in their depths. "You think you can just waltz in here and do whatever you want? You have no idea what this world is like."

I clenched my jaw, refusing to be intimidated. "And you have no right to judge me based on rumors and lies."

His grip loosened slightly, but he didn't let go. "Is that what they are? Lies?"

My pulse pounded in my ears. "Yes. And even if they weren't, it's none of your damn business."

He finally released my wrist, but his presence was still overpowering. "You're playing a dangerous game, Adams."

I rubbed my wrist, the skin already red and tender. "Maybe it's time someone taught you that not everyone is out to get you."

He stepped back, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "You're naïve if you think that."

"And you're a coward if you can't see past your own paranoia," I shot back.

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