Page 181 of The Wrong Play

CHAPTER 33

RILEY

Iwasn’t sure when I started shaking.

Maybe it was when I first saw the headlines on my phone. Maybe it was when the whispers started floating through campus. Maybe it was when I walked into class, and every single person was either talking about it or reading about it.

Professor Callum Westwood Under Investigation

University Suspends Professor Amidst Scandal

Police Confirm Criminal Charges

I reread the words again and again, my vision blurring, a strange lightness threading through my veins.

It was real. He was actually gone.

I had spent so long suffocating under the weight of him, trapped in a current I could never escape. Whether in person or lurking in the shadows of my mind, he was always there—haunting me, hunting me. His voice had threaded through every quiet moment, his threats slithering into my thoughts, a constant reminder that no matter how far I ran, I’d never be beyond his reach.

He didn’t need to stand beside me to corner me, he had mastered the art of making me feel caged with nothing buta whisper, a glance, the unshakable knowledge that he was watching. Always watching. Always waiting.

But now?

Now,hewas the one losing everything.

I covered my mouth with my hands, a sob breaking loose from my throat.

I should have felt relieved.

I should have felt safe.

Instead, I felt overwhelmed.

The pressure, the fear, the suffocating weight I had carried for so long suddenly cracked apart all at once, and the pieces collapsed over me in waves.

I stumbled back, bracing my hands against the table, struggling to catch my breath.

And then…

Warm hands grabbed my waist.

A familiar grip. A solid, immovable force.

Jace.

I barely registered how I got outside, how I was suddenly in his arms, his strong hands cupping my face, tilting my chin up so I had no choice but to look at him.

He was searching my eyes like he could fix me just by holding me.

“Breathe, babycakes.” His voice was low, soothing, but edged with something rougher. “You’re okay.”

I shook my head, another sob escaping. “I—he’s—Jace, he’s?—”

“I know.”

His thumb traced the tear sliding down my cheek, and I felt it like a brand.

I let out a broken laugh. “It’s over.”

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