For crosby, p.16
For Crosby, page 16
Instinctively, I checked to see if the girls were with him.
“Sabrina’s not here.”
I nodded, realizing how obvious I’d made it. “How she doing?”
He shrugged. “Haven’t seen her. Finlay said she’s been disappearing a lot lately.”
“She seeing someone?” I asked, trying for nonchalance, though my gut clenched at the thought of it.
“Not that I know of. But listen,” his voice lowered, conspiratorially. “Finlay wanted me to come over here and check things out. You know, so she could report back to Sabrina.”
“Sabrina cut me loose,” I reminded him.
He chuckled. “I gave up trying to figure out girls a long time ago.”
Xavier held out his fist to Caden. “Congrats, man. Great game against Georgia.”
Caden bumped his fist. “Thanks.” His eyes jumped back to mine. “So, I can tell her you’re not seeing anyone?”
I nodded.
“Okay,” Caden said, looking to the TV as Chekhov shot and scored his second goal of the night. “I’ll let you guys get back to your game.”
“Later,” I said.
“Later,” Xavier called.
I glanced over my shoulder as Caden returned to the table with Finlay. She eagerly listened to what I assumed was Caden’s “report” before glancing over at me. I lifted my empty beer bottle in acknowledgment.
She smiled and lifted hers.
Sabrina
It was quiet on the third floor in the library as I slunk back in my chair surrounded by dusty scholarly journals most undergrads had no use for. For the third day in a row, I’d been tucked away at a back table. My eyes burned and I’d begun to question if I knew what I was even looking for.
My phone vibrated. I searched for it beneath the papers strewn across the table. I located it and found a text from Finlay. Where are you?
My thumbs pounded away at my screen. Library. Third floor.
On my way. Saw Crosby at the bar last nite. Need to talk to you.
A shutter rushed through me. What did she need to talk to me about? Was Crosby alright? Had she talked to him? Had he moved on?
A few minutes later I looked up to find Finlay standing there, her eyes moving over the articles covering the table.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“I did what you said.” I grabbed a handful of papers and straightened them into a pile. “I looked past my anger.”
Confusion flashed across her face. “So, you’re burying yourself in schoolwork?”
“Not quite.”
Finlay slipped into the chair across from me. “What’s that mean?”
I didn’t know how to respond. I hadn't really found anything substantial. “What did you need to tell me about Crosby?”
“Some girl was trying to get his attention. Touching his tattoos and stuff.”
I grabbed more loose papers and neatened them into another pile, trying to remain unfazed by the unwanted image flashing in my mind. “So?”
“So, I had Caden go check things out.”
“Why? Crosby can do what he wants.”
She pegged me with her eyes. “He’s not seeing anyone, if you were wondering.”
I handed her a stack of papers, a small sense of relief spreading over me.
She flipped through them, looking them over curiously. “Why are these names highlighted?”
“They’re the people suing Crosby’s parents.”
“There are hundreds of them.”
I nodded.
She looked at me. “Why are you interested in who’s suing Crosby’s parents?”
“I’m looking for familiar names. Names that might tell me why he thinks he has to put up with what’s been happening to him.”
“Have you found anything yet?”
I shook my head. “No names stood out, so I started researching each of them. I’m not even halfway through the list yet.”
She stared across the table at me. “Sabrina.”
I met her gaze, hating the pity in her eyes.
“You should’ve told me. I would’ve helped you.”
I handed her a pile. “Then what are you waiting for? Get searching.”
She smiled.
“I’ve got more printouts,” Grady said, approaching the table with the stack of papers he’d fetched from the copy machine.
Finlay stared at him. “He’s helping you?”
“He has a name,” Grady said, tossing the papers down in front of me and sliding into the seat beside Finlay.
I laughed as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She jumped out of the seat and circled the table to sit beside me, avoiding Grady at all costs.
But regardless of their love-hate relationship, the three of us didn’t leave that table for the next five hours until we found what we were looking for.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Sabrina
I leaned against the outside of the campus gym, impatience overwhelming me. The door opened and closed, people in workout clothes coming and going all day.
After what felt like hours, the door opened and one of Crosby’s teammates came out. He was a tall guy with long strides, so I hurried to catch up as he walked away. “Mathews, right?”
He looked to me, his dark eyes widening like he knew me. “Yeah?”
“Question for you. What’d Jeremy Potter do to get you to tie Crosby to that tree?”
Guilt crossed his face. “Who said I did that?”
“You want the list?”
His pace quickened and I struggled to keep up with him. “So, what if I did?”
“Just wondering what he had on you to make you do it?”
“Who said I didn’t want to help?”
I grasped hold of his arm and stopped him. “Come on. The guy’s an asshole.”
He looked away from me, somewhere over my shoulder. “What’s it matter to you?” he asked.
“I dated Jeremy,” I explained, though his eyes hadn’t returned to me yet. “Not one of my proudest moments.”
“Hey, Mathews” a stocky guy I also recognized from the hockey team said, stepping up beside us. He looked at me, unapologetically assessing me, particularly my boobs. “The video definitely didn’t do you justice.”
Mathews, looking guilty as ever, shoved him. “Shut up.”
Fear spread over me. “What video?”
“See ya,” the guy said, taking off before I could stop him.
I grabbed Mathews’ arm again. “Talk.”
“You’re not gonna like this.”
“Talk!”
People around us paused, watching what appeared to be a lovers’ quarrel.
“There’s a video of you and Parks.”
My heart ricocheted off the wall of my chest. “What kind of video?”
He nodded, the only explanation necessary.
“Who?” I demanded as a cold sweat began to spread over me.
“Who do you think?”
“Say it!”
“Jeremy.”
“Show it to me,” I demanded.
My heart sank as he slipped out his phone. I wanted him to say he didn’t have it, but he pulled it up on his screen as if he had it saved to his favorites. And just like that Crosby and I were going at it in the library one of the nights I kept him company at work. My shirt was off and little remained to the imagination. As soon as I heard myself moan, I stopped the video and forwarded it to myself. “Is this online?”
He shook his head. “Not yet. I think only the hockey team’s seen it.”
Images of the party and the strange looks they gave me came rushing back at me. “Has Crosby?”
He paused.
A million thoughts whirled through my mind while I watched him contemplate his response.
He nodded slowly.
Crosby’s words played in my head. You deserve better than me...Everything I touch goes to hell. He knew. And he was trying to tell me—or at least trying to push me away. Was he trying to protect me?
I shoved the phone back at Mathews. “You need to delete that or I’ll go to the dean. Nonconsensual recordings are illegal. And as far as the dean knows, the one who has it is the one who recorded it.”
I spun away from him and sped across campus with a knot swelling in my throat making it difficult to swallow.
What I’d seen on that video.
What I’d heard.
God.
If it was released, how could I stay on campus? How could I get into law school? A sex tape would follow me for the rest of my life.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, jolting my already jumpy body. I slipped it out and a text from Finlay sat on my screen. He’s in the dining hall.
I quickened my pace, trudging across campus. My scalp felt as though it was about to split in two as the cool breeze whipped my hair around my face. But it didn’t stop me—or ease the heat pulsing in my cheeks.
I entered the crowded dining hall, stopping at Finlay and Caden’s table.
“How’d it go?” Finlay asked as I dropped into the seat beside her, needing a moment to process everything I’d seen.
I didn’t look at her or Caden, too numb to speak. I looked around the busy room. My eyes stopped, zoning in on Jeremy seated across the way with some of his teammates. My heartbeat thumped in my temples, cloaking all the sounds in that noisy room.
I sprang to my feet.
“Whoa.” Finlay grasped my wrist. “What are you gonna do?”
“Take down the asshole.”
She dropped my wrist, knowing enough to let me do what I needed to do.
The sight of Jeremy laughing with his friends had pushed me over the edge. I strode across the room, weaving around crowded tables as my heartbeat pulsed in tandem with my steps. I stopped at Jeremy’s table.
Sensing me hovering over him, he looked up.
“Can I talk to you, Jeremy?” I asked, fighting the urge to jump across the table and claw out his eyeballs.
“You’re talking,” he said, all snide and pompous.
Some of his friends snickered.
“I guess I am,” I said, feigning ignorance while wanting nothing more than to hurt him the way he’d hurt Crosby and me.
He looked purposefully around the room. “Where’s your boyfriend?”
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
Jeremy snorted. “A girl like you gets around then, huh?”
Again, his friends snickered.
I looked each of them dead in the eyes and smiled. “Laugh again and I’ll kick you so hard in the balls you’ll be limping for the foreseeable future.”
Their faces sobered.
My focus retuned to Jeremy. “I think you misunderstood me, so I’ll say it again. I need to talk to you.”
He huffed in annoyance. “You’ve got three minutes.” He pushed back his chair and stood.
“It’ll only take two.” Asshole.
We weaved our way around the tables until we stepped outside. Jeremy stopped by the short brick wall in front of the building and sat on it, his arms crossed as if already bored with our conversation. “Speak.”
“I know I was a pawn in this vendetta you’ve got against Crosby.”
“Did he tell you that?”
“He didn’t have to. It was clear when you asked me out. Then again when you grilled me about my meeting with the dean. Then again when you sent me to Crosby’s room instead of yours. Should I keep going because the list seems to be growing by the hour?”
His eyes drifted to the students moving around campus. “Did he send you here?”
“Why would he send me here?”
“To get me to back off.”
“Back off?” I cocked my head. “You admitting to something?”
He scoffed as his eyes followed a pretty girl who passed by us.
“Your bracelet said, ‘Potters never give up.’ Is this what it looks like? Is this what your parents would want?”
His eyes flew back to mine, darkness flashing in his expression. “What did you say?”
“I know Crosby’s parents hurt your family.”
His stare narrowed coldly. “So, he does know?”
I shook my head. “I don’t think he does. But it’s online for anyone who bothers to look. I didn’t catch it at first. Your last name isn’t the same as your father’s.”
“What do you want?”
“The better question is what do you want? It wasn’t Crosby who hurt you. You get that, right? It was his parents and they’re both in jail.”
“They took everything from us.”
“So, you’re gonna destroy Crosby’s future?”
“Why not?”
“What about mine?”
His brows climbed. “Yours?”
“I know about the video.”
He said nothing, but the vindictiveness in his eyes and the subtle grin tugging up the sides of his mouth said it all. He had no remorse.
I glared back at him, disgusted by the mere sight. “Did you get off watching us together, you sick bastard?”
He rolled his eyes.
“You jealous he got what you didn’t?” I kept pushing, hoping he’d snap and reveal what he’d done.
He scoffed.
“You act like you don’t care, but it’s one more thing he took from you. And we both know he’s better than you at hockey.”
“He’s not better than me,” he said.
“I’ve seen him play. He’s headed for the pros. You know it and I know it.”
“Not if I have anything to do with it,” he murmured.
“You’ve already had something to do with it. You wrecked his chances with the scout,” I said.
“You’ve got no proof of that.”
“You’re right. But I do have proof you tied him to that tree.”
“Sure you do.”
“Your teammates aren’t as loyal as you think. How do you think I know about the video?”
Anger brewed in his eyes.
“Karma’s a bitch, Potter. And so am I.” With that I spun away and took off, knowing he was shooting daggers at me with his eyes. I lifted my hand into the air and flipped him off.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Sabrina
Dean Edwards and I stared at each other across his desk. It was the first time I’d been back since the tree incident. So much had happened since then. And as I sat there, with my phone in my hand, I wished I’d told him what I’d known right from the beginning. It would have saved us all a lot of unnecessary trouble.
I placed my phone on the dean’s desk, turning up the volume to be sure he didn’t miss a word. Mathews’ voice filled the office, our earlier conversation recorded specifically for the dean.
Dean Edwards sat there, watching my phone.
The audio switched to Jeremy’s voice and our conversation outside the dining hall played. Every word a near confession of his guilt. Sure, it would never be permitted in a court of law, but it had to be enough concrete evidence for the dean to finally hand out a punishment to the right person.
Dean Edwards stared at my phone, even after it stopped playing.
“Obviously, I have the video,” I said, knowing I’d fight tooth and nail to stop from having to show it to him. “And I’m sure Mathews will confirm his involvement if you call him in.”
He shook his head, outwardly disgusted by what he’d heard. “I’ve heard enough.”
“Jeremy’s been putting Crosby through hell since he got here,” I continued. “And even though Crosby won’t talk, I don’t believe Jeremy deserves to get away with it. No matter what issues he has with Crosby’s family.”
Dean Edwards pressed a button on his phone and his secretary answered. “Find the phone numbers for Jeremy Potter’s parents. I need them to come to campus immediately.”
“And if they ask what this is about?” his secretary asked over the speaker.
“Tell them their boy is fine, but that this is an urgent matter.” He disconnected that call and pressed another button. Campus security answered.
“I going to need two officers sent to pick up Jeremy Potter.”
Relief washed over me. Crosby may not have wanted to take Jeremy down for fear of the repercussions, but I felt damn good knowing the asshole was about to get what he had coming.
The dean hung up the phone. With a deep exhalation, he looked to me sadly. “All I ever wanted was for this university to be a safe place for students. I hope you don’t think I was too harsh last time you were here. I was just following protocol and trying to get to the truth so I could punish whoever tried to hurt Crosby.”
“I understand that now.”
He nodded. “Crosby’s here because of me. His mother and I were classmates. So, when she contacted me about the potential problems facing Crosby if he stayed in Texas, I allowed him to enroll here. I promised her I’d take care of him.”
“And the first thing that happened when he arrived was he got hazed,” I said, finishing his thought for him.
“Exactly. Not only had I let him down by not giving him the safe place his mother sought for him, but I let her down.”
“Crosby’s okay. He’s a lot stronger than people think. And, he’s got me looking out for him.”
A sad smile tipped his lips. “He’s lucky to have you. I’m sorry I couldn’t have helped sooner.”
Crosby
The puck flew across the ice. I waited to the left of the goal and stopped it with ease, firing it at our goal. Our goalie nearly got his glove on it, but it sailed past him. Coach blew his whistle, signaling a change of drill. I stopped where I stood, waiting for Coach to tell us where to be. He’d finally allowed me back to practice, but kept Jeremy and me apart at all times. He clearly knew something had happened between us, even if I didn’t blame the cup stunt on him.
A door slammed and two campus cops entered the arena, their steps determined and echoing off the rink walls. Everyone on the ice turned, watching them approach our assistant coach, the closest one to them. They said something to him before he signaled Coach over.
With rapt attention, we watched their interaction with Coach. The cops did all the talking. Coach listened and then reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone. His thumbs pounded away at the screen before he lifted it to his ear. He listened to whoever he’d called while pacing up and down the bench area for a good three minutes. As he did, the color drained from his face. Anger brimmed in his eyes. And his steps became louder. He made a few comments into the phone then listened some more. After another few minutes, he disconnected the call and jammed his phone into his pocket.
