The Debt

"Get in the back."

Jax didn't look at her when he said it. He didn't even stop walking. He just hooked his fingers into the collar of Riley’s jersey and hauled her toward the rear of the bus. The fabric bunched uncomfortably against her throat, forcing her to stumble over a discarded equipment bag.

"I can walk, Jax," she hissed. She tried to pry his hand off, but his grip was like iron.

"Sit." He shoved her into the last bench seat, the one hidden in the deep shadows furthest from the overhead lights.

The rest of the team was filing on, loud and rowdy from the win. They were chanting, throwing punches at each other's shoulders, oblivious to the fact that their season was currently hanging by a single, fraying thread. Miller walked past, pausing for a second.

"Hey, Woodsy. Hell of a goal. You okay? You looked a little rattled out there."

Riley opened her mouth to speak, but Jax stepped in front of her, blocking Miller’s view.

"He's fine," Jax said. His voice was flat. Cold. "Bell rung a little. He needs to shut up and sleep."

Miller shrugged, moving on to find a seat. "Whatever you say, Mom."

Riley waited until Miller was out of earshot. She felt the vibration of the bus engine turning over, a low hum that rattled her teeth. "You can't do this. You can't just own me because you know."

Jax sat down next to her. He didn't leave a gap. His thigh pressed against hers, heavy and solid. He leaned his head back against the seat and closed his eyes, but his jaw was tight. "I can do whatever I want. You put a target on this team the second you walked into that locker room with a pair of scissors and a lie."

"I saved the spot. Ryan was going to-"

"I don't care about Ryan!" Jax snapped, his eyes snapping open. They were dark, reflecting the passing streetlights. "I care about the scouts. I care about getting out of this town. Do you know what happens to me if the Falcons get hit with a fraud scandal? I’m done. My name is tied to yours."

"So report me then. Get it over with."

Jax leaned in. The space between them disappeared. He smelled like the rink-cold, sharp, and metallic. "No. Because you're actually good. You're better than your brother ever was. You're going to stay. You're going to play. And you're going to make sure every scout in the stands writes down the name Woods next to mine."

"And what about Beckett?" Riley whispered. "He knows."

"Beckett won't say a word."

"How do you know?"

"Because he loves you, you idiot." Jax’s lip curled in a sneer. "It’s written all over his face. He’d rather burn his own career down than see you get in trouble. He’s weak like that."

Riley looked away, staring out the window at the dark highway. Her chest felt tight, the binder feeling like it was shrinking every time she took a breath. Beckett. She hadn't even looked at him when she left the rink. She couldn't.

"He's not weak," she murmured.

"He's a liability. Just like you." Jax reached out and grabbed her chin, forcing her to look back at him. His skin was rough, calloused from years of gripping a stick. "From here on out, I’m the only one you talk to. You don't text him. You don't look at him during warm-ups. You stay in the shadow, Riley."

It was the first time he had used her real name. It sounded wrong coming from him. Too intimate. Too sharp.

"How did you know?" she asked. "In the locker room. You knew before Beckett even said it."

Jax let go of her chin. He looked back at the ceiling. "The way you move. The way you smell. I’ve lived with you for three days. You think I’m blind? No guy spends that much time in a bathroom unless he’s hiding a body or a secret."

"Then why didn't you say anything sooner?"

"I wanted to see how far you'd go. I wanted to see if you actually had the guts to get on the ice." He let out a short, dry laugh. "And you did. You hit the ice and you actually scored. That’s the only reason you’re still breathing."

The bus hit a pothole, jarring them both. Up front, the team started singing a dirty fight song. The contrast between the celebration and the silence in the back row was suffocating.

"What happens when we get back?" Riley asked.

"We go to the room. We lock the door. And then we set some rules."

The dorm hallway was quiet when they finally trudged back. Riley’s bag felt like it was filled with rocks. Every step was an effort. She just wanted to crawl into bed and disappear.

Jax unlocked the door and stepped aside, ushering her in like a prisoner. He closed the door and turned the deadbolt. The click sounded final.

"Shower," he said.

"I’m tired, Jax."

"I don't care. You smell like the rink and fear. Go. Now."

Riley grabbed her things and retreated to the bathroom. She didn't lock the door-it didn't matter anymore. She stripped off the jersey, the heavy pads, and finally the binder. She saw the red welts on her ribs in the mirror. She looked at her hair, messy and uneven. She looked like a disaster.

She stood under the water for a long time, trying to scrub the day off her skin. When she finally came out, wrapped in a thick hoodie and sweatpants, Jax was sitting at his desk. He had his laptop open, but he wasn't looking at it.

He was looking at her.

"What?" she asked, her voice cracking.

"You look different without the gear. Smaller."

"Stop saying that."

"It's the truth." He stood up and walked over to her bed, tossing a roll of athletic tape onto her pillow. "Next time you bind, use that. The stuff you're using is going to bruise your ribs so bad you won't be able to skate."

"I know how to take care of myself."

"Clearly you don't." Jax stepped into her personal space again. He was always doing that-crowding her, reminding her how much bigger he was. "Rule number one. You don't change in the bathroom anymore."

Riley blinked. "What?"

"If someone walks in and sees the door locked every single time, they get curious. You change here. In the dark. While I’m at the desk."

"No. Absolutely not."

"It wasn't a request, Riley. We have to make this look normal. Roommates don't hide in the bathroom for forty minutes. They change, they talk, they go to sleep. You want to keep this lie? You play the part."

"I'm not stripping in front of you, Jax. I don't care if it's dark."

Jax narrowed his eyes. "I’ve seen enough today to last a lifetime. I’m not interested in your body. I'm interested in the jersey. Now sit down and eat." He pointed to a sandwich he’d clearly swiped from the dining hall earlier.

Riley sat. She didn't feel hungry, but her stomach growled the second she smelled the bread. She took a bite, her eyes staying on Jax.

"Why do you hate my brother so much?" she asked through a mouthful of food.

Jax’s expression went cold. The little bit of humanity she thought she saw in his eyes vanished. "Ryan is a golden boy. Everything came easy to him. The talent, the scouts, the family. He’s got a sister who’s willing to ruin her life for him."

"He didn't ask me to do this."

"He didn't have to stop you, either." Jax sat back in his chair, his hands behind his head. "My old man was like Ryan. A star. A hero. Until he got caught taking money to throw games. He destroyed my mother. Destroyed our name. Now, every time I see a 'hero' like Ryan Woods, I just wait for the mask to slip."

"I’m not him," Riley said quietly.

"I know. You’re a different kind of mess."

Jax turned back to his laptop, ending the conversation. Riley finished her sandwich in silence. She climbed into her bed, pulling the covers up to her chin. She felt exposed. Every time Jax shifted in his chair, she tensed up.

"Jax?"

"Go to sleep, Woods."

"Beckett... he's going to come looking for me."

"Let him. I'll handle him."

"You can't just-"

"I said I'll handle it. Now shut up."

Riley closed her eyes. She thought about the ice. The way it felt to score that goal. For one second, she had been happy. Now, she was just a ghost in a room with a man who looked at her like a debt he intended to collect.

She drifted off to the sound of Jax’s keyboard, a steady, rhythmic clicking that felt like a countdown.

The next morning, the knocking started before the sun was even up.

It wasn't a polite knock. It was heavy. Urgent.

Riley sat up, her heart racing. Jax was already at the door. He peered through the peephole, then swore under his breath.

"Who is it?" Riley whispered.

Jax opened the door just a crack.

"He's not seeing anyone, Beckett. Go back to your own dorm."

"Move, Jax," Beckett’s voice was strained. He sounded like he hadn't slept. "I need to talk to her. Now."

"There is no 'her' here. There's only Ryan. And Ryan is sleeping."

Beckett shoved against the door, but Jax didn't budge. "I saw her, Jax! I know it's Riley! If you don't let me in, I'm going to the Coach."

Jax’s laugh was low and lethal. "Go ahead. Tell him. And watch as she gets kicked out, Ryan gets blacklisted, and your little scholarship disappears for being an accomplice. You think they won't blame you for keeping the secret?"

The silence from the hallway was heavy.

"I just want to make sure she's okay," Beckett said, his voice cracking.

Jax looked back at Riley. She was sitting on her bed, her hair a mess, clutching the blanket to her chest. She looked terrified.

"She's fine," Jax said, his voice softening just a fraction, though his eyes remained hard. "She's exactly where she needs to be."

He closed the door and locked it.

He turned to Riley. "See? Liability. Now get dressed. We have a 6:00 AM skate."

Riley didn't move. She just stared at the door, wondering if her life would ever belong to her again.