Page 24 of Cold Carnage

I stared at the screen, my fingers hovering over the keyboard, but my thoughts were tangled in Ryker’s accusations. I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was wrong about me, but also that maybe he wasn’t entirely off base. It made me want to confront him, demand answers.

“Can I ask you a question?” I turned to face him, my voice cutting through the silence. Before he could respond, I pressed on. “What is your problem with me? What did I do to make you… hate me? Is it just the Brendan thing?"

"Just the—" He scoffed. “Do you hear yourself? You’re acting like a child.”

I arched a brow, refusing to back down. “And what’s this?" I gestured at him. "A tantrum?”

He stepped closer, his jaw tightening. “You want to know why I have a problem with you?”

I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest.

Ryker moved even closer until we were almost nose-to-nose. “You come in here acting like you know everything, trying to fix things that aren’t broken. You think your fancy degree and your shiny resume mean anything here? This is real life, Adams. Notsome case study. Shit happened at Michigan that you covered up. Shit that you covered up.”

"Which was my job."

"Not at the expense of the team."

I held his gaze, refusing to let his words cut deeper than they already had. “I’m just trying to help.”

He scoffed. “Help? You’re meddling where you don’t belong. And that's not including what you did to my brother."

His words stung, but I pushed back the tears threatening to well up. “So it’s about control? You think I’m here to take something from you?”

“You don’t get it. You can’t just walk in and change everything without understanding what’s at stake.”

“What’s at stake?” I echoed, incredulous. “You mean your ego?”

His face darkened, and he took another step closer until our faces were inches apart. “No,” he said quietly but fiercely. “The team’s future.”

The intensity of his words hung between us like a live wire, crackling with tension and unspoken truths.

“So Brendan is why you don't trust me?” I whispered, searching his eyes for any sign of understanding. "What I did to him?"

Ryker didn’t answer immediately; instead, he stepped back slightly as if considering my question more deeply than before.

Finally, he spoke again—his voice softer but still edged with resolve: “It's not just that,” he said.

"No?"

His eyes locked onto mine. "Trusting people has never gotten me anywhere good.”

"Maybe, instead of coming at me, you should look in the mirror," I pointed out, my voice steady. "We wouldn't be in this position if you hadn't?—"

"Don't you think I know that?" Ryker cut me off, his voice tinged with frustration. "I lost it. Some asshole who's never picked up a stick in his whole goddamn life has the audacity to tell me how to play a sport I've been playing since I was four. And on top of that, instead of just leaving it as it was—hockey—he starts to bring in personal shots. I was already drunk."

"You? Drunk?" I asked sarcastically, raising an eyebrow.

He clenched his jaw, his eyes flashing with anger and a hint of regret. "Not my finest moment," he admitted, the words sounding almost painful for him to say. "But there you have it. There's the truth."

For a moment, the room was silent except for the soft hum of my laptop. I studied Ryker's face, searching for any sign of vulnerability beneath his hardened exterior. It was clear that he was grappling with his own demons, but that didn't excuse his behavior.

"Look," I said finally, my voice softer but still firm. "We all make mistakes. But if we're going to fix this mess, we need to work together. That means being honest with each other and owning up to our actions."

He ticked his jaw, but he didn't say anything else on the matter.

"And I need to do my job without interference or accusations. Without you letting the past dictate what's going on now."

The air between us thickened, tension simmering just beneath the surface. It wasn’t just anger fueling it. I could feel the heat of Ryker’s body so close to mine, and despite my frustration, an undeniable pull tugged at me. I had been so focused on the job, on managing the crisis, that I hadn’t allowed myself to feel anything else. But standing here, arguing with Ryker, my emotions became harder to control.

---