Page 34 of Second Sin

Ryder spits blood into the sink, grinning. "Touched a nerve, huh?"

“Shut the fuck up,” I growl, the rage still burning through my chest.

Kane drags me out.

We’re barely in the hallway before he shoves me against the wall—not hard, but enough to get my attention.

"What the hell is going on with you, man?" he hisses, eyes flaring. "You trying to burn down what’s left of your career? Or just your life?"

I don’t answer. Can’t. My hands are still balled into fists, and my chest won’t stop heaving.

The sound of sharp footsteps cuts through the tension—measured, controlled, unmistakably Jacobs.

Coach rounds the corner, jaw tight, eyes assessing the damage in a blink.

He snaps his fingers, sharp and clipped, then points at me like I’m some rookie who just puked on his skates.

"Office. Now."

We don’t say a word until his office door slams behind me.

Jacobs crosses the room, sits down at his desk. Doesn’t look up right away. He just keeps writing something on a clipboard. Then he sets the pen down and lifts his gaze.

"Sit."

I do. Barely.

"You want to tell me what the hell that was out there?"

I shrug. “Bad day.”

He leans forward, steepling his fingers. "That’s not a bad day. That’s a self-destruct sequence."

I don’t respond. What the fuck am I supposed to say?

“You’ve been off for weeks, Wilde. But today? That was different.”

Still, I say nothing.

Coach sighs, shakes his head. “You’re a hell of a player. But even you aren’t untouchable. You pull that shit again, and you’ll be benched. Or worse.”

I nod once and leave.

The halls feel colder than usual. My boots echo too loud.

When I round the corner, I see her.

Olivia.

Standing outside her office, notebook in hand, hair tied up like she means business. She’s talking to Tyler, but when she sees me, her expression freezes.

I stop a few feet away.

“Olivia,” I say, voice low. “Can I talk to you?”

She glances at Tyler, then back at me. “I have a session.”

“I just... I didn’t know. About your husband.”