Chapter 5 Chapter 5

Kane

Mason Hart looked like he wanted to slam the door in my face.

I wouldn't blame him.

The hallway outside his apartment smelled like old paint and rain. I shoved my hands deeper into my hoodie pockets and kept my expression blank.

Because if I looked as irritated as I felt, this conversation would end badly.

Mason stood in the doorway blocking the entrance.

“What are you doing here?” he repeated.

Behind him, Lena stared at me with open disbelief.

Honestly?

That part complicated things.

I hadn’t expected her to be here.

Or maybe I had.

I wasn’t sure anymore.

“We need to talk,” I said.

Mason’s jaw tightened.

“We don’t.”

“We do.”

His laugh held no humor.

“That ship sailed years ago.”

Tension thickened instantly.

Lena looked between us like she’d accidentally walked into a war already in progress.

Good.

Maybe now she’d stop thinking the past was simple.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

Neither of us answered.

Mason stepped further into the doorway. “Leave.”

I looked at him.

Then at the bruise hidden near his wrist.

Fresh.

My mood darkened.

“You’re ignoring calls,” I said.

“And?”

“You missed rehab.”

Lena blinked.

“Rehab?” she repeated.

Mason shot me a murderous look.

I ignored it.

Because right now, embarrassment was the least of his problems.

“That’s none of your business,” he said.

“Everything involving the team becomes my business.”

“I’m not on your damn team anymore.”

The words cracked through the hallway.

Silence followed.

And there it was again.

That old anger.

The kind neither of us ever talked about properly.

Lena crossed her arms.

“Somebody want to explain what’s happening?”

Mason answered first.

“Nothing.”

I almost rolled my eyes.

Same old Mason.

Bleeding and still pretending he wasn’t hurt.

Lena looked annoyed.

“That’s becoming everyone’s favorite answer lately.”

“You should go inside,” Mason told her.

“No.”

His expression hardened. “Lena—”

“No,” she repeated. “I’m tired of people acting weird every time his name comes up.”

Her eyes landed on me.

“You showed up at my brother’s apartment uninvited.”

“Correct.”

“Why?”

Because somebody had been following Mason.

Because he’d stopped answering messages.

Because old problems didn’t stay buried forever.

But none of that belonged to her.

Not yet.

“Mason knows why.”

Her gaze narrowed.

“I hate when you do that.”

“Do what?”

“Talk like you’re hiding state secrets.”

I almost smiled.

Almost.

Mason rubbed a hand over his face.

“Just leave, Kane.”

I looked at him carefully.

He looked exhausted.

Worse than last month.

The injury recovery clearly wasn’t going well.

“You miss rehab again,” I said quietly, “Coach Donovan gets notified.”

His eyes flashed.

“Are you threatening me?”

“No.”

I paused.

“Warning you.”

Lena suddenly stepped closer.

“Hold on.” Her voice sharpened. “You still talk to him?”

Mason stiffened.

I stayed quiet.

Her confusion grew.

“You told me you had nothing to do with hockey anymore.”

“I don’t,” Mason said quickly.

“That’s a lie.”

Both of them looked at me.

I didn’t particularly enjoy exposing people.

But I hated lies more.

“He still works with the medical rehab program connected to the arena,” I said.

Lena turned slowly toward her brother.

“You never told me that.”

Mason looked cornered.

“It’s temporary.”

“How temporary?”

He didn’t answer.

The silence told her enough.

I watched emotions cross her face.

Confusion.

Frustration.

Betrayal.

And guilt hit me unexpectedly.

Not because of Mason.

Because she looked hurt.

Mason exhaled hard.

“Can we not do this?”

“No,” Lena said. “Apparently we should.”

I stepped back slightly.

This wasn’t my fight.

Except somehow it always became mine.

Mason glared at me.

“Are you happy?”

“Not even a little.”

The apartment hallway felt smaller suddenly.

Too much history packed into one space.

Lena looked between us again.

“What happened between you two?”

Nobody spoke.

Because the real answer was messy.

And dangerous.

Then her eyes landed on me.

“You said I should ask him why.”

I remembered.

Of course I remembered.

Every word she’d said yesterday had stuck harder than it should have.

Mason looked sharply toward me.

“You talked about me?”

“She asked questions.”

“And you answered?”

“Barely.”

His jaw flexed.

Lena noticed.

“So there is something.”

“There’s nothing,” Mason said.

I looked at him.

Then said calmly:

“You really want to keep lying to her?”

His expression went cold.

“Kane.”

Wrong move.

He used my name like a warning.

And suddenly Lena looked more confused than angry.

“You two act like divorced parents,” she muttered.

I actually almost laughed at that.

Mason didn’t.

“Enough,” he snapped.

His phone buzzed again.

This time, I noticed the way his face drained.

Not good.

He checked the screen and locked it immediately.

Too late.

I’d already seen the number.

Same unknown contact.

Same one from before.

My mood dropped.

Lena noticed his reaction.

“What is it?”

“Nothing.”

She groaned.

“Again with the nothing—”

“I said drop it.”

The sharpness in his voice made her flinch.

And something inside me reacted instantly.

Not anger.

Protectiveness.

Annoying instinct.

Mason noticed it too.

His eyes narrowed.

And suddenly the air changed.

“You should go,” he said to me.

I stayed where I was.

“You know they’re looking again.”

Lena froze.

“What?”

Mason went pale.

“Stop talking.”

“You think ignoring it fixes things?”

“I said stop.”

His voice cracked louder this time.

Lena looked between us.

“Who’s looking?”

Nobody answered.

Rain tapped softly against the hallway window.

I looked at Mason.

He looked back.

Old history sat between us like broken glass.

Then Lena spoke quietly.

“You know what?” Her voice shook slightly. “I’m done.”

She grabbed her bag from the kitchen chair.

“I ask questions and nobody tells me anything.”

“Lena—” Mason started.

“No.”

Her eyes moved to me.

And somehow that felt worse.

“You especially.”

I held her gaze.

Fair.

She pushed past us toward the hallway exit.

The second she brushed by me, I caught vanilla again.

Same scent from the arena.

Same stupid awareness.

She stopped halfway down the corridor and turned back.

“If this involves me or my family,” she said tightly, “I deserve the truth.”

Then she left.

Silence followed.

The apartment door stayed open.

Rain kept falling outside.

Mason looked exhausted.

“You shouldn’t have come.”

“Someone’s following you.”

His expression darkened.

“You think I don’t know that?”

“You think keeping her blind helps?”

His laugh sounded bitter.

“You really care about honesty now?”

That landed harder than I expected.

Because maybe I deserved it.

Maybe more than he knew.

I looked toward the empty hallway where Lena had disappeared.

“She’s already involved,” I said.

“That’s exactly what scares me.”

Something cold settled in my chest.

Mason stared at me for a long moment.

Then quietly:

“You need to stay away from her.”

The words irritated me immediately.

I shoved my hands into my pockets.

“That’s not your decision.”

His expression changed.

And suddenly he looked tired instead of angry.

“You still carry guilt.”

I didn’t answer.

“You think protecting her fixes what happened.”

Still no answer.

Because guilt wasn’t something you fixed.

You carried it.

Every day.

Mason looked toward the hallway too.

“She hates you,” he said.

I knew.

I should’ve left then.

Should’ve walked away and stayed out of it.

Instead, I heard myself ask:

“Where’d she go?”

Mason looked at me like he already regretted opening the door.

And honestly?

That made two of us.

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