Chapter 2

Raiden’s POV

Three years. I’d waited three goddamn years for this moment, and it was nothing like I’d imagined.

She stood in my doorway, soaking wet, mascara carving black rivers down her cheeks, her nicest dress clinging to her body like a second skin of grief. Her chestnut hair was plastered to her skull. She was shivering—actually shivering—and she looked at me like I was the last person on earth she wanted to see. Which, knowing us, was probably true.

“Donovan.” I kept my voice even, detached, even though my heart was slamming against my ribs so hard I could feel it in my throat. “You’re late. I expected you twenty minutes ago.”

Her honey-brown eyes went wide. Confusion. Fear. That spark of fight she always had when I cornered her on campus. She opened her mouth, but all that came out was a shaky breath.

She didn’t know. She had no fucking idea that I’d been the one to send that sublet link through Elijah weeks ago. That I’d been tracking her moves for months, making sure she was safe, making sure no one got too close. That I’d loved her since the first day of freshman orientation when she’d walked into the wrong lecture hall with charcoal smudged across her forehead and an expression like she was already bracing for the world to disappoint her.

I’d been an asshole to her ever since. It was the only way I knew how to survive wanting someone this much.

“What are you doing here?” she finally managed, her voice small but sharp. “How did you even know I was coming?”

I stayed silent. Because the truth—I arranged everything, I’ve been watching you, I’m in love with you and it’s eating me alive—would send her sprinting back into the rain. And that I couldn’t allow.

“Answer me, Raiden.” She took a step back, her soaked sneakers squeaking on the marble floor. “Why are you in this apartment? Why do you look like you’ve been waiting for me?”

I still didn’t answer. I just watched her, cataloging every detail. The way her bottom lip trembled. The way her fingers clutched the strap of that tiny backpack like it was the only thing anchoring her to the earth.

She bolted.

It was sudden—she spun on her heel and lunged for the door. I moved faster. My hand shot out and caught her wrist, her skin cold and slick from the rain. She gasped, yanked against my grip, and that’s when her foot caught the edge of my hockey bag. The one I’d left by the door like a dumbass.

Time did that slow-motion thing. She stumbled backward. I tried to steady her, but my balance went too, and we crashed to the floor in a tangle of limbs. I twisted at the last second to take the brunt of the fall, and then she was on top of me—no, I was on top of her—and her body was pressed flush against mine, chest to chest, her breath hot against my neck.

For one insane second, I forgot how to function. Her hips were under mine. Her hands were trapped between us, palms flat against my chest. I could feel her heartbeat racing, could smell rain and something faintly sweet—vanilla maybe. She was so close I could count her eyelashes.

“Get off me!” she shrieked, shoving at my shoulders.

I scrambled back like she’d burned me, my face heating. Fuck. I hadn’t meant for that to happen. I’d imagined being this close to her a thousand times, but not like this. Never with her looking at me like I was a monster.

I pulled out my phone, unlocked it, and thrust it toward her. “Read.”

She blinked, still breathing hard. “What is that?”

“Just read the fucking messages, Donovan.”

She snatched the phone from my hand, her eyes scanning the screen. I didn’t need to look; I knew every word by heart.

Elijah: I’ll give you her schedule, her contact info, everything. You’ll know the second she needs a place.

Raiden: And you get the rink. 5 a.m. access, all season.

Elijah: Deal.

Her face crumbled. It was like watching a building collapse in slow motion—first the foundation cracked, then everything else came down with it. Her hands started shaking.

“He traded me,” she whispered. “For ice time. Huh! He actually traded me.”

The pain in her voice was a physical thing. It twisted in my chest like a knife. I wanted to pull her against me, tell her the truth—I didn’t make that deal for strategy, I made it because I needed a way to keep you close, to protect you, because I love you so much it’s destroying me—but I couldn’t. If I told her that, she’d see me as the stalker I probably was. She’d run. And right now, running could get her killed.

So I did what I always did. I put on the mask.

“It’s strategy,” I said, my voice cold. Casual. Like I was discussing game plays. “Elijah’s the rival captain. Everyone knows he leans on you for emotional support. Take you away, and his confidence crumbles. His game falls apart. My team wins the championship.” I shrugged, tucking my phone back into my pocket. “You’re a chess piece, Donovan. Nothing personal.”

Her jaw tightened. Her eyes, which had been shattered a moment ago, now burned with fury. Good. Anger I could handle. Anger was safe. Her heartbreak was too dangerous, too tempting—it made me want to tear down every wall I’d ever built.

“You’re a soulless piece of shit,” she spat.

Before I could respond, the elevator dinged.

Heavy footsteps pounded down the hallway. Then the door burst open so hard it slammed against the wall, and Elijah Bennett stood in the entrance, looking like he’d sprinted the whole way here. His blonde hair was a disaster, his blue eyes wild and red-rimmed, his chest heaving.

“Kaleena?” he gasped, scanning the room frantically. “Where is she? Is she here?”

My instincts went on high alert. He looked genuinely panicked—terrified, even. But something was off. His gaze swept the penthouse, and for a split second, it landed on the curtain in the corner. The exact spot where I’d shoved Kaleena a moment before she could bolt.

He knew.

He knew she was behind that curtain, and yet he wasn’t marching over there. Wasn’t pulling her out. Wasn’t even relieved.

Then, like someone had flipped a switch, the panic on his face vanished. His expression hardened into something cold and detached, and when he spoke again, his voice was completely different.

“You got my vouchers, Blackwood? The stadium passes you promised?”

I stared at him. My hands curled into fists. “Are you serious right now?”

“Dead serious.” He crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe like he didn’t have a care in the world. “We had a deal. I held up my end. Now where the hell are my passes?”

I couldn’t believe what I was watching. He was performing. Putting on a goddamn show. His hands were trembling at his sides—I could see it, even if he tried to hide them in his pockets. His voice cracked just slightly when he said her name earlier. And he wouldn’t look at the curtain. Not once.

“You kicked her out,” I said slowly, testing him. “She’s got nowhere to go.”

“Not my problem.” Elijah shrugged, but the gesture was too stiff, too forced. “She’s a nuisance. Always has been. She’ll figure it out. She’s good at clinging to people.”

Rage surged up my spine. I crossed the room in three strides and got right in his face. “Say that again.”

He met my eyes, and for a heartbeat, I saw it—the terror. The agony. The desperate, screaming love he was burying under layers of cruelty. Then it was gone, replaced by that hollow mask.

“She’s a nuisance,” he repeated, quieter this time. “And I don’t care where she goes. Just get me my vouchers.”

I could have hit him. I wanted to. But somewhere in the back of my mind, a piece of the puzzle clicked into place. Elijah wasn’t heartless. He was protecting her. From what, I didn’t know yet—but I was going to find out.

“Get out,” I growled.

He didn’t argue. He turned and walked out, slamming the door behind him so hard the frame rattled. The silence he left behind was deafening.

I stood there, breathing hard, my mind racing. Whatever secret Elijah was keeping, it was big. Dangerous enough that he’d rather destroy his own reputation—and her heart—than let it get out.

I heard the curtain rustle.

Kaleena stepped out, her face wet with fresh tears, her fists clenched so tightly her knuckles were white. She launched herself at me before I could react, pounding her small fists against my chest.

“You used me!” she screamed, her voice breaking. “I’m just a pawn to you! Just a chess piece! I lost everything tonight, and you—you were just playing a game!”

I caught her wrists, holding them still. She struggled, but I didn’t let go. “Stop. Kaleena, stop.”

“Let go of me! You’re just like him! You’re worse than him!”

“I know what you wrote,” I said, my voice low.

She froze. Her eyes snapped up to mine, confusion flickering through the rage. “What?”

“In your diary.” I swallowed hard. This was a risk. A massive fucking risk. But I couldn’t let her think I was just another person who’d used her. “You wrote about loving a boy who only saw you as a ghost in his room. You wrote that you were tired of being invisible.”

Her face went pale. “How—how do you know that? That was private. That was mine.”

I released her wrists and stepped back, putting distance between us. “Elijah put your diary pages on the locker-room projector. The whole hockey team saw them.”

She looked like I’d just punched her in the stomach. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out.

“I paid to delete the digital trail,” I continued, forcing the words out before I could stop myself. “I made every single guy on my team delete the screenshots. I threatened to bench anyone who even thought about sharing them.” I met her eyes, and for once, I let her see something real. “Your secret is safe. I made sure of it.”

Silence stretched between us. Her chest was rising and falling fast, her honey-brown eyes searching my face for something—sincerity, maybe. Or the lie she expected to find.

“Why?” she finally whispered. “Why would you do that for me? You hate me. You’ve always hated me.”

I couldn’t say it. The words 'because I love you' lodged in my throat like a stone. I just stared at her, my jaw tight, and let my eyes say what my mouth couldn’t.

Then I grabbed my big black hoodie from the hook by the door and threw it over her head.

“What are you doing?” she sputtered, pushing at the fabric.

“We’re going to make Elijah pay,” I said, steering her toward the elevator. “And you’re not doing it looking like a drowned cat.”

She stumbled along beside me, still half-drowned in the hoodie, but she didn’t fight. I reached out and touched her jaw—just for a second, just to tilt her face up toward mine. The contact sent a shock through my whole body. Her skin was cold from the rain, but under my fingertips, I felt warmth. Life. The girl I’d been guarding from the shadows for years, finally close enough to touch.

“Get in the car,” I said, my voice rougher than I intended. “We’ve got shit to figure out.”

The elevator doors slid shut, and I stared at my reflection in the polished metal. My grey eyes looked feral. My scar stood out stark against my skin. I looked exactly like what I was—a man barely holding it together.

I was going to find out what Elijah was hiding. I was going to protect her from whatever the hell it was. And I was going to do it without ever letting her know that every beat of my heart had her name stamped on it.

Even if it killed me.