Page 117 of Break The Ice

I look down at it and frown. “I hate black coffee.”

“Oh!” Her face falls, and she almost wilts.

“It’s okay, I’ll drink it,” I lie.

She nods. It takes her a while to find the words, but I don’t help her. Tiff is the one who wanted me to be here. She can start talking, but I know if you rush her, she falls down mentally, and I won’t get what I need.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you or your family,” she whispers.

“I know.” And it’s true. Her self-absorption wouldn’t have extended to being worried about the consequences.

“I just loved him so much.”

“Dad said you’ve been calling him? You need to leave him alone.” I’m not rude when I say it, there’s no judgement, but it’s firm and no nonsense. This is a line in the sand that she cannot cross.

“I wasn’t! I was just trying to get you to answer the phone!” she snaps and casts her eyes down like she’s frightened of what I might do.

I never once hit her, never raised my voice, but she never felt safe around me.

Her hair is glossy brown, and her blue eyes are filled with tears. Aesthetically, she’s a beautiful woman. A stunning omega.

She’s not Ryann.

“He started calling me about a month ago.”

I laser focus on her when those words penetrate my head. “He?”

“I don’t know who he is. I don’t know anything!” she says and glances to the side.

I see a guy sitting in a booth not far away watching her. His affection for her is in every line of his body, and she keeps looking at him for reassurance. This must be the new alpha.

“He started with cussing you out. Asking me questions. Day and night, night and day. On and on. Texts, emails, phone calls, letters in the mail. He told me about Ryann, Raider, Kit, and Callan. This man would send me graphic texts about how you’re all fucking. He told me if I loved you, I’d try to save you. That they would all hurt you.”

I stare at her.

“I didn’t believe him. I thought it was some crazy fan.”

“Did you report it?”

“I rang your coach and tried. He told me to stop being a bitter ex and to let go of it. Move on.” She curls her hands into fists. “I tried.”

“Okay.” I make a mental note to ring my old coach and find out what he knows.

She bites her lower lip and looks at the guy again. He’s immaculately dressed and a bit of a pretty boy.

“Look, I didn’t want to come here, but he said if I did this, he’d leave me alone. He said he doesn’t want you to get hurt, that you can step out now, and no one will bother you.”

I scowl.

She quickly slides an envelope across the table towards me.

“I’m sorry I’ve done what he wanted, Wren, but I’m scared. I just want to be left alone. Just be careful, whoever he is, he’s close to you.”

She gets up in a rush and gestures for the guy. The pair of them leave. I sit at the table while my coffee goes cold, staring out the window.

After a while, my alarm on my phone goes off, and I get up robotically and return to my car to make the long drive back to Greene for the game.

I open my lockerand stare at the envelope I’ve stashed in there. Once upon a time, I used to feel happy when I saw envelopes and got letters. Now, my heart sinks.

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