LOGIN
JULIAN
Five points to three. Varsity High won. It made me sick.
I watched from the cold metal of the stands as my prey jumped, screaming at the top of his lungs while his little sycophants roared around him, cheering him on. Coach yelled something as they all jogged off toward the locker room, the crowd buzzing with chants that echoed across the field.
I strutted toward the parking lot, flicking a cigarette between my lips to drown out the rage burning in my chest. Three bloody years, and I’ve finally made it back to this shitty town. Back for him. My dirty, sinful liar.
Right on cue, the crunch of gravel signaled his approach. His face popped into view, an ugly snarl twisting his sharp, sculpted features the second he noticed me leaning against his hood.
“The fuck, man! Get off my car… it’s fucking expensive!” he barked, shoving me back. He grabbed a handful of my shirt, but my hood stayed low, keeping my face strictly in the shadows. He shoved me again, hard enough to make me stagger as I spat the cigarette onto the pavement.
“You better not have scratched it. I’ll beat the fucking shit out of you, you loser,” he spat.
It was almost funny watching his golden-boy mask slip. This was the real him. The liar. The vicious, dirty betrayer. Not the polished team captain everyone adored.
“Shit!” he suddenly screamed, his voice cracking with alarm.
A slow, shit-eating grin split my face as his eyes took in the carnage: slashed tires, a shattered windshield, and a broken rearview mirror hanging by a thread.
Rowan Ashcroft. Hockey god of Varsity High. Top recruit. Captain. Broad-shouldered, tall, with the kind of dark, piercing eyes and arrogant jawline built for high-society magazine covers. The sicko loved his luxury cars—and I’d just ruined his favorite. I only knew how much he cared because I pay attention to every single detail when it comes to him.
Rowan let out a vicious growl, winding up to throw a punch. I could practically feel the heat radiating off him.
“Are you fucking mute? You did this to my car! Who the fuck do you think you are, you pissy fuck?!” he spat, violently jerking the hood off my head.
I didn’t flinch. I relished the exact second his brain caught up.
Rowan froze. His raised fist hung frozen in mid-air. His jaw slackened, his dark eyes widening in a sickening cocktail of shock and raw, unadulterated fear. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he took an instinctual step back, the color draining from his face.
Heavy footsteps approached from the locker room exit. Fred, his best friend, halted a few feet away, noticing the sudden silence.
“All good, man?” Fred called out, jogging closer.
I pulled my hood back up, soaking in the stupefied horror painted across Rowan's handsome face. Leaning in close, my breath brushed the shell of his ear.
“I’ll see you around. Dirty liar.”
Before anyone could react, I backed away into the shadows of the alley, disappearing before a single word could escape Rowan's throat. Behind me, I heard Fred peppering him with questions, but Rowan didn't say a word.
Feeling a cold sense of satisfaction, I hailed a cab. Ten minutes later, I was back in my flat. I tossed my keys onto the table, bolted the lock, and grabbed my burner phone.
Four missed calls from Mum. Zero from Dad. And twelve from Theo.
I scrolled through Theo’s frantic text stream:
"Where are you, Julian? Mom’s worried sick!"
"Call me back right now!"
"Did you go after him? Julian, listen to me—do NOT touch Rowan!"
"You know who his family is! The Ashcrofts own half this town and the police force. They will crush you, Julian! You’ll ruin your life!"
"Please, Julian. Don't do something stupid. Don't hurt him."
A dark smirk pulled at my lips as I read the warning about Rowan's family. I powered down the phone, tossed it into a drawer, flicked off the lights, and sank into bed.
Closing my eyes, I replayed the look in Rowan’s eyes. That slice of panic was all the proof I needed—he knew exactly who I was, and he knew I was coming for him.
FLASHBACK
“Arrested? For taking bribes? Who the hell said that?! Theo doesn’t do bribes, he would never support cutting corners!” I screamed, slamming my palms onto the wooden interrogation table.
The detective seated across from me merely rolled his eyes, slapping a thin manila folder into my chest. “There it is. Evidence of the bribery and accounts were found on scene, official statement taken, and a key witness who testified.”
I snatched the folder, scanning the pages as rage boiled in my veins. My eyes locked onto the witness statement at the bottom.
Rowan Ashcroft.
“I’ll fucking murder him,” I seethed. I stood up so fast my chair rattled against the floor, and ran out toward the station parking garage.
I didn't have to go far. Rowan was standing near the far wall, a cigarette pinched between his fingers. Beside him stood a older guy in a tailored suit. They were talking in low tones. I pressed against the concrete pillar, listening in.
“I don’t know... it feels wrong to have lied,” Rowan admitted, staring down at his shoes. “Theo was... he was my best friend.”
The man in the suit just shrugged, brushing a speck of lint off his sleeve. “You get your starting position, you get off the hook, the feds stop digging into your family, and everyone sees you as a hero. Don’t feel shitty, Rowan. You did what you had to do. Take the win and shut your mouth. You know what’s on the line if the Ashcroft name gets dragged into this.”
My hands curled into tight fists, fingernails biting into my palms.
The bastard. He lied to save his own skin. Rowan and my brother hadn't just been "best friends." They were consumed by each other—a reckless, intense mess of dynamic passion that went way deeper than a simple friendship. And Rowan threw him to the wolves anyway.
A bitter snarl tore from my throat as I stepped out to confront him, but a firm grip clamped onto my shoulder, yanking me back. My father glared at me with absolute disdain.
“Don’t cause a scene,” Dad growled quietly. “Your brother is already facing charges—don’t make this harder. Dragging us into your mess is all you ever do.”
Dad let go and walked past me without another word, leaving me standing in the cold air.
I watched from afar as Rowan threw his cigarette to the ground, climbed into his sportscar, and drove away. He passed right by me, completely unaware of the hatred burning in my chest as I watched the boy who destroyed my brother’s life drive away scot-free.
END OF FLASHBACK
“I’ll murder him... even if it’s the last thing I do,” I whispered to the empty room, turning over in bed.
He wouldn’t escape. Not this time. Rowan Ashcroft was going to pay for everything.
ROWAN.Morning hit like an iron pipe across the side of my skull...I woke up with the harsh autumn sunlight blinding me through the unshaded window... every single joint in my body stiff as lead...I tried to roll onto my left side to reach for my phone on the nightstand...The second my torso twisted... a jagged bolt of agony ripped straight through my right groin... The Grade 2 tear didn't just hurt... it locked my entire lower half into a rigid... breathless spasm that left me pinned flat on my back... gasping uselessly at the ceiling...I couldn't move... I couldn't pull the heavy duvet up... I couldn't even swing my legs over the edge of the mattress... My hip was a swollen... inflamed wreck... locked solid from the cold downpour the night before...The bedroom door creaked open...Julian walked in... fully dressed in his black gym gear... a heavy ice wrap slung over his broad shoulder and a legal pad clutched in his hand... He looked infuriatingly sharp... his dark eyes blown w
ROWAN.The hardwood floor was freezing beneath my face... my cheek pressed flat against the damp, muddy boards as the sound of my own ragged breathing echoed off the dark entryway walls...I couldn't move my right leg... Not an inch...The moment I tried to shift my weight to push myself up, a sickening spike of agony tore straight through my groin, locking my entire torso into a rigid, breathless spasm..."Get the fuck off me..." I wheezed out against the floor, my voice weak, gravelly, stripped of every ounce of authority...Julian didn't answer with words... He just reached down, his split, bloody hands hauling me up by the collar of my soaked hoodie... dragging my heavy 210-pound frame across the floorboards toward the master bathroom at the end of the hall... My dead leg dragged uselessly over the runner rug, leaving a trail of filthy rainwater and thick brown mud behind us..."Let go, you crazy bastard!" I snarled, clawing at his wrists with my numb fingers... "I can walk on my
ROWAN.The truck engine cut out... leaving nothing but the deafening roar of rain slamming down against the metal roof...The cab was suffocating... hot... smelling like stale leather, sweat, and copper...I didn't wait for Julian... I grabbed the door handle with both hands, popped the heavy latch, and shoved myself out into the pitch-black downpour...The instant my feet hit the wet driveway, the freezing rain cut through my hoodie like a fucking razor... Cold...violent... relentless...I took one single step forward...My right leg gave out completely...The cold air had locked my torn hip flexor into a stiff, frozen knot... The muscle didn't just give up... it snapped inward like an overstretched rubber band, driving a blinding bolt of raw agony straight through my groin into my spine...My knee buckled...I hit the mud hard... my full 210-pound weight crashing down into the frigid, slick earth... my right thigh slamming straight into the sharp gravel..."Fuck!" I screamed... the
JULIAN.Christian didn't say a fucking word...He just popped the door handle, stepped out into the pouring rain, and shoved his hands deep into his leather coat pockets... heading fast toward his own sports car parked three rows over... He didn't look back at Rowan... He didn't look back at me... He just left... his red taillights flashing once through the downpour before he pulled out of the arena lot and vanished into the dark...I threw my truck into park... left the engine idling loud... and kicked my door wide open into the freezing mud..."Get your fucking ass in the truck, Rowan!" I screamed into the rain...Rowan didn't move an inch... He was standing twenty feet away under the flickering yellow light of the arena overhang... his dark hoodie completely soaked... water running down his pale cheeks in thick, dirty streams...His right hand was clutched tight around the strap of his gym bag... his knuckles white... his jaw locked so hard the muscles in his neck were shaking...He
JULIANThe engine of my truck was idle, the heavy V8 thrumming through the floorboards while rain hammered the windshield in massive, sheets. The parking lot at the back of the arena was dead. Pitch black except for the dull orange glow of the streetlamp overhead.Christian sat in the passenger seat, his leather jacket unzipped, his chest moving in fast, quiet breaths. The air inside the cab smelled like stale rain, faint copper, expensive cologne, and dark, heavy heat.Christian went down and didn't come up for air.He got my jeans shoved down past my hips and dragged my dick with one hand and had his mouth on me before I'd finished breathing out. No teasing, no buildup—just wet heat closing over the head of my cock and his tongue working the underside in fast, sloppy strokes, and my whole body jolted like I'd grabbed a live wire.His spit was everywhere already. He was messy with it, sloppy, letting it run down over his knuckles and drip onto my thigh, and every time he pulled up he
JULIAN.My chest felt like a fucking engine burning pure gasoline with zero oil, metal grinding against metal until the whole machine was ready to blow.My head slammed hard to the left—a fast, ugly jerk tearing at the tendons in my neck as Coach Ted’s office door swung open, the heavy brass knob smashing into the drywall.I walked out first into the long, dark rubber tunnel leading back to the varsity locker room. My split, taped knuckles were throbbing in time with the violent, sickening pulse behind my eyes. Blood was stiff, black, and dried under my fingernails—his blood, my blood, smeared all over the chest of my dirty white away jersey like a fresh kill.I should have felt like a god. I had just taken the only early-entry NHL draft spot in the entire fucking program. I had just put my heavy boot straight on the neck of the varsity captain and stripped his whole life down to a mandatory two-month benching.He called you a disease. He called you pathetic. He told you he didn't nee







