Page 4 of College Hockey Bully

Thunder suddenly peals overhead, breaking the trance. He backs off, swiping the hair from his face, his eyes now filled with an anger that brings me back to that awful night.

“What’s your strategy this time, traitor? Jump me from behind and what, break an ankle? Take me out of the next game… is that your plan?”

Droplets fall on my face, cold and stinging. He must be joking. Aiden is a foot taller than I am and I don’t know… fifty pounds heavier? “Get out of my way, please.”

Instead, he moves closer, still with that menacing glare. “Whoever sent you, tell them this: the next time you cross my path, I’m not letting you off this easy. When I’m done with you, I’m going to find them and they’re going to wish they were never born. Do I make myfuckingself clear?”

I swallow hard, trying to keep a brave face, but failing miserably. My voice quivers as I reply, “Please, let me go.”

For a moment, I fear he won’t comply. The pressure on my chest quickly fades, replaced by an overwhelming relief as he steps aside, still with that murderous glare. I take offimmediately, not daring to look behind me, my entire body soaked by the time I get to the bike stand. I back up under the shelter, relief giving way to a body-racking sob when reality hits me like a blow to the face.

There’s no hiding from Aiden Hunter anymore.

Chapter 2

Aiden

Tearing my eyes from the girl in my rearview mirror, I focus on the road ahead. The campus zips by in a blur as I speed toward the entrance. I refuse to harbor any guilt from leaving her trapped in the cold rain.

After what she did to me, it’s the least she deserves.

Yet, my conscience still teases me, reminding me that despite all the shit that turned me into the heartless monster I am, deep down, the old me still exists. The guy who believes that people are good and there’s no such thing as an ulterior motive. No one’s out to get me. No one knows my secret and if they do, they’d never use it against me.

‘I swear to God, Aiden. It wasn’t me.’

The old me was naive. The old me would’ve been sucked in by those beautiful blue eyes, believing every word, ready to challenge anyone who said otherwise. New Aiden?Nah. I don’t believe in coincidences, especially when I sawherthat night. No one else.

I remember sprinting past her near the parking lot, in too much of a hurry to enquire why she was standing there all alone at nine o’clock. Not only did my anger at the Wolves override my concern for her welfare, Scarlett and I weren’t exactly the best of friends. Scratch that. We weren’t friends. She hated my guts. After that incident in Calculus III last year, she probably wished I was dead.

Perfect reason for fucking with my chances at making it to D1 semis, right?

Yes, Scarlett can deny it all she wants, butshemade that phone call. Because of her, the entire team got punished for slashing our rival’s bus tires after an emotional game that left our water boy with a serious injury.Disqualification from the semis. I’ve never been so devastated in my life. What pissed me off was the fact that I wasn’t even involved. I was simply trying to stop the team from making a mistake.

Scarlett ruined the biggest opportunity of my life and I’ll never forgive her for that.

My foot presses down on the gas, quickly putting distance between me and Hempton College. She can fucking catch a cold for all I care. Fuck my conscience and fuck her, too.

In my anger, I almost run the red light. Rainwater splashes on both sides as the car screeches to a halt as I slam down on the brakes, breathing harshly. I hate that the simple thought of her riles me up, that she gets under my skin so easily. The frustrating thing is that she’d been under my skin even before that awful night.

The green light flashes and I go off, zipping past the trailer park community before heading to the nicer part of Rosedale. The gates of my parents’ estate swing open as I approach, triggered by the sensor on my car. I cruise down the long driveway, past the wide front lawns and gazebos, then pull to a stop in my private garage. Shifting the gear in park, I sit for a while, staring out the windshield, willing my anger to fade before I head inside. It’s hard, when the source of my anger lives rent-free in my head.

It’s hard, now that I suspect she’s not done fucking with me.

My anger rises again. I throw the car door open and it swings on the hinges with a creak. There’s only one cure for this anger; making it to the finals, and having Jeff Ross, coach of theNew York Sabers,see me play and signing me to his team. My ultimate career goal, one that got denied last season.

But not this time.

We’re getting to Nationals and nothing is going to stand in my way.

Instead of taking the elevator to my private wing, I enter the side door that leads to the main living room. My quarters are equipped with everything to my comfort except for home cooked meals. Our housekeeper Melinda, who has been with us since I was a kid and is like family, is the best chef I know and from the pleasant smell coming from the kitchen, she’s been cooking up a storm.

“Did you take a stroll in the rain or something?” she exclaims when I lean in to plant a kiss on her cheek. “Get out of those clothes before you catch a cold.”

“One serving of paella and I’ll take a hike,” I promise, reaching into the overhead cupboard.

“You might want to put a pause on that,” Melinda says softly, her voice now filled with concern. “She’s crying again.”

I freeze. My heart takes a nosedive. So does my appetite. “Goddamnit.”

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