What The Hell, Reeves?

Hunter

“There you go,” Nurse Jade said as she cleaned the last bruise on my arm with a rubbing alcohol-soaked cotton pad.

The sting made me suck in a breath through my teeth. “Fuck.”

“Language,” she reprimanded without even looking up.

I gave her an incredulous look, which she didn’t notice as she remained focused on the gauze she was now wrapping around my middle.

After poking and prodding me for what felt like an eternity, she’d finally determined that nothing was broken and my wounds were mostly surface level.

No fractured ribs or stitches that required a trip to the hospital.

The only thing was my left eye. It was still swollen despite the ice pack she’d made me hold against it for the past hour, and the headache pounding behind my forehead was brutal.

But considering fifteen guys had just taken turns using me as a punching bag, I supposed I was doing pretty fucking well.

“Thank you,” I said, sliding off the exam bed.

I’d barely taken a couple of steps toward the door when she stopped me.

“You’re not going back to class yet, boy.”

I turned around to face her, frowning. “Why not?

“The principal is waiting for you in his office.”

I groaned, biting back a curse. 

When she’d filed that report, and no one came running, I thought the whole thing was for show, and I stopped worrying about it.

But clearly, I was wrong.

It wasn’t that I didn’t want the guys punished for what they did. But if this escalated and I became known as the new guy who reported the guys on his hockey team, I could kiss any chance of having a normal school life for the five months I have left.

Fontein High might’ve been less barbaric, but high school was still high school. Every school had its social hierarchy, and athletes were always on top of the food chain.

If I went along with this, I might as well staple social outcast to my forehead.

Teeth gritted, I looked at the nurse. “I lied. They didn’t gang up on me. It was just a meaningless squabble that got out of hand. And as you said, there’s no serious injury, so there’s no need to escalate–”

“Hunter,” She interrupted me softly, a kind look in her eyes. “You can explain that to the principal yourself.”

A sigh punched out of me. “Come on. I’m still gonna play hockey with these guys.”

“I’ve done my part. I’ve treated your injuries and made sure this gets reported. I’m not going to let whoever did this walk around thinking they can hurt another student and get away with it again.”

There was a strange flash of pain in her eyes as she said it, so quick I almost wondered if I’d imagined it. 

Before I could ask, she returned to the supplies on her tray and started putting everything away.

I watched her for a second, curious, but eventually, I gave up. “Fine.”

Wondering if my first day could get any worse, I left the infirmary and made my way toward the principal’s office. 

That was easy since I’d been there at least twice during the whole transfer thing.

After a brief conversation with the secretary, she finally waved me through.

But the moment I pushed open the office door, I nearly passed out right there in the doorway.

Why the hell was my mother sitting across from the principal?

Valentina Beaumont looked up at the same time I walked in, and her eyes grew as large as saucers.

“Rose! What happened… Oh my god.” She shot out of her chair and hurried towards me.

“Nothing, Mom. I’m okay.” I groaned, wondering how she would have reacted if she’d seen me earlier. Thank fuck she hadn’t.

As she grabbed my face between both hands, turning my face from side to side, I wanted nothing more than an earthquake to open up the ground and swallow me whole.

“What do you mean, nothing? Look at your eyes! And your lip! You’re clearly not fine!”

“What are you doing here?” I asked, finally managing to pull my face out of her hands.

“They called and told me you–” Valentina suddenly cut herself off and turned toward the principal, pointing a perfectly manicured nail in his direction.

“What did you do to my baby?” She demanded. “I swear I’m suing this school to the ground. This is my son’s first day here and look what you did to him!”

Jesus Christ.

I closed my eyes, wondering why that earthquake I wished for wasn’t happening.

Back when I was at Fonteign High, the only time my mother ever did show up was for PTA meetings or hockey events where she could brag about her son being captain of the ‘best hockey team in Chicago ’-her words, not mine.

Anyway, she never had to come for fucking bullying reports. 

“Mom, please,” I muttered, reaching for her arm.

But she turned on me immediately. “Just because we’re having a teensy problem doesn’t mean anyone gets to touch my precious baby.”

As those horrid words left her, the office door opened and in walked Tristan fucking Reeves.

Please tell me he hadn’t heard that.

Heat shot up my neck, and I knew my face was screwed. Helpless and brimming with rage, I looked at Reeves, expecting to find that familiar smug smirk he seemed to be shooting at me a lot lately, but there was… nothing.

His face was completely unreadable, masked into the stony expression I’d only known him with until recently.

There was this air around him, as though he were a guitar string pulled so taut and about to snap. Tense. That was the word. Tristan Reeves was tense, and it didn’t seem to have anything to do with me… if the distant look in his dark eyes were anything to go by.

The principal hurriedly rose from his chair right then, dragging my attention away from him. “Mrs. Beaumont, please. I assure you, we’re going to discuss this and get to the bottom of what happened.”

“You’d better.” My mother snapped.

“Now that Tristan and his father are here, I believe we can sort this out amicably.”

Father?

I turned towards Reeves again, and I finally noticed the tall, broad-shouldered, heavyset man standing behind him. And holy crap, other than the fact that the man was obviously older, had dark brown hair and a beer gut, he was Tristan Reeves’ spitting image. Down to even the way they stood.

It was creepy.

As I kept staring at him, I soon realized the man was wearing a uniform…wait…a sheriff’s uniform.

Holy shit. Reeves' father was a cop?

“Mrs....Beaumont. Is it?” the man finally said, his deep voice cutting through my internal rambles. “Let’s all take a breath and discuss this like adults, shall we?”

Mom huffed and folded her arms, but at least she returned to her seat, dragging me onto the one beside hers.

The principal cleared his throat and glanced down at his notes after Reeves and his father settled down as well. “Hunter here told our nurse that his new teammates on the hockey team assaulted him after being mobilized by their captain here, Tristan. That’s a serious allegation, and one we don’t intend to take lightly. So I need to establish what happened.”

His eyes settled on Reeves. “Is that what happened?”

Captain Stoic finally looked at me. His face remained painfully blank for a few seconds before he finally shrugged. “No.”

What?

Principal Lawson frowned at the same time I did. “Are you saying Hunter is lying?”

He shrugged again. “When Coach Morrison announced to us that we’d be having an unexpected addition to the team, we were all surprised to discover it was Hunter…seeing our history and all. But we were excited. Unfortunately, he never did show up, and we haven’t officially met him yet.”