Chapter 4 Chapter 4; Collateral Damage

Reid’s POV

"Push! Push! Move those fucking legs, Thorne!"

Coach’s whistle screamed through the ice rink, echoing off the rafters, but it wasn't loud enough to drown out the absolute rage boiling in my chest. I dug my skates into the ice, spray flying as I drove my shoulder straight into the boards, stopping a freshman clear dead in its tracks.

I was skating on pure adrenaline. The bullshit on the quad with Vanessa and Carter had left my head spinning, and the only place I could clear it was right here.

On the ice, everything was black and white. You hit, you score, you win. No reality TV drama or press to worry about.

I need to remember my goals for the term.

"Alright, bring it in!" Coach yelled, clapping his gloved hands. "Good skate today, boys. Vance, keep that intensity up. The rest of you, hit the showers."

I skated off the ice, my lungs burning, sweat soaking through my Under Armour. I ripped my helmet off, running a hand through my damp hair as I stepped into the locker room.

The heavy smell of sweat, leather, and hockey tape usually calmed me down.

This was my sanctuary.

Until Max walked up to me, holding his phone out like it was a live grenade.

"Reid. Dude. Tell me this is a fucking joke," Max said, his voice dropping low so the rest of the team wouldn't hear. His face was dead serious.

"What?" I spat, unstrapping my chest pads. "If this is about Carter talking shit again, I don't give a fuck."

"It's not Carter, man. Look at the news."

Max shoved the screen into my face. My eyes locked onto the headline, and for a straight five seconds, I forgot how to breathe.

“LA’s favorite homewrecker Chloe Dupont brings her toxic drama to Westbrook… and wait until you see who she’s sleeping with now.”

Underneath it was a video of Chloe completely tearing Vanessa to shreds on the quad. I would've smiled at how utterly ruined Vanessa looked, but then I scrolled down.

"What the fuck?" I roared, my voice bouncing off the locker room walls.

There was a photo. A crisp photo taken right through my fucking living room window last night. It was the exact moment I had leaned down into Chloe's space to threaten her. But from the outside, with my shirt off after training and her face tilted up to mine, it looked like we were seconds away from tearing each other's clothes off.

It looked completely scandalous. It looked like a fucking lie.

"Bro, the internet is losing its mind," Max muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "The NHL scouts would probably be calling Coach’s office asking if our captain is getting tangled up with a media liability. You're supposed to be locked down, Reid."

"I am locked down!" I screamed, slamming my fist against my metal locker. The loud ‘CLANG’ made half the room freeze and look over.

"This is bullshit! Nothing happened!"

I grabbed my phone from my bag, my hands shaking with absolute fury. I didn't care that I was dripping sweat or that I still had my skates on. I dialed Jax’s number. He answered on the second ring.

"Reid? Hey, man, I just landed in London, what's…"

"You need to fix this shit right now, Jax!" I bellowed, pacing the narrow aisle of the locker room. "Your sister hasn't even been here for twenty-four hours and my fucking face is all over the blog! Some creep took a photo through my window! The scouts are calling Coach! My captaincy is on the line!"

There was a long, stunned silence on the other end. "What? Reid, what are you talking about?"

"She brought the fucking sharks right to my door!" I shouted, a curse word slipping out with every breath. "They photographed us inside my own goddamn house! They're saying she's sleeping with me, Jax! She's destroying my life just like she did in high school!"

"Reid, listen to me, I'm so fucking sorry," Jax pleaded, his voice cracking over the international line. "Chloe wouldn't want this. She's terrified of the press right now. Please, man, don't throw her out. I'll call her, I'll figure it out…"

"Don't bother," I growled, my teeth grinding together. "I'll handle it myself."

I slammed the phone down, cutting him off. I ripped my skates off, threw on some sweatpants, and didn't even bother to shower. I grabbed my truck keys and stormed out of the rink.

The drive back to the apartment was filled with red lights and curses. By the time I kicked the front door open, the anger had curdled into pure venom.

Chloe was sitting on the couch.

She had her knees pulled up to her chest, her phone clutched tightly in her hand. The high-fashion armor from earlier was completely gone. She looked pale, her hazel eyes wide and bloodshot, like she’d been staring at a ghost.

For a split second, she looked entirely fragile. But I was too fucking blind with rage to care.

"Are you happy now?" I roared, slamming the front door shut behind me so hard the drywall vibrated.

Chloe flinched, her head snapping up. She tried to swallow, her defensive mask slipping back on, but her voice cracked.

"Reid... I didn't know someone was watching the apartment. I swear to god…"

"Shut the fuck up, Chloe!" I yelled, throwing my gym bag across the room. It hit the kitchen island with a loud crash. "You swore to me! Jax swore to me! You said you’d keep me out of your drama, and within a day, you've completely ruined it! Look at this!"

I shoved my phone into her face, displaying the picture of us.

"I didn't take the photo, Reid!" she shouted back, standing up from the couch. Her lower lip was trembling, but she glared at me with that defiant spark. "I am the victim here! Someone is stalking me, trying to ruin my life, and you’re complaining about your stupid hockey career?"

"My stupid career?!" I stepped into her space, my height completely shadowing her, my voice dropping to a dangerous, deadly hiss. "This 'stupid career' is my entire life, you selfish bitch! I sacrificed everything to get here. I stayed away from girls, I stayed away from parties, I put in every ounce of my blood and sweat. And you? You just glide through life creating chaos because you're bored and needy!"

"That's not true!" A tear finally slipped down her cheek, but she aggressively wiped it away. "You don't know anything about what I'm going through!"

"I know exactly what you are," I sneered, the words tasting like poison, meant to hurt, meant to destroy. "You're a parasite, Chloe. You drain the life out of everyone who tries to help you. You got me benched in high school, you ruined your family's name in LA, and now you're here to ruin me, again. You’re nothing but a hollow, attention-seeking brat. Vanessa was right about you. You're just a toxic plague."

The moment the words left my mouth, the room went entirely dead silent.

Chloe froze.

The defiant spark in her hazel eyes didn't just fade…it completely died. Her face went entirely blank, a look of crushing betrayal washing over her features. She looked at me like I had just stabbed her straight through the chest.

"Chloe..." I muttered, the sudden drop in her energy making a knot of guilt twist in my stomach.

She didn't let me finish.

Without saying a single word, Chloe grabbed her trench coat from the back of the couch. She didn't look at me or yell or cry out loud. She just ran.

She pushed past me, yanked the front door open, and sprinted down the hallway into the pouring rain outside.

"Chloe, wait!" I called out, taking a step toward the door.

But as I reached the door, my phone in my pocket began to buzz violently. I pulled it out. It was Coach's number lighting up the screen with a message.

“See me tomorrow in my office..”