Chapter 7: The Secret Behind the Door

Eli stood frozen in the middle of his apartment, staring at the heavy wood as if it had suddenly transformed into something dangerous. His phone trembled in his palm, the anonymous photograph still casting a pale glow across his fingers. Out in the dim corridor, Adrian waited his dark hair damp from the autumn rain, his broad shoulders tense beneath a black jacket.

He’s outside. Ask him what he’s hiding.

Eli looked at the message again, then back at the door.

“Eli,” Adrian called, his voice dropping an octave. “Please open the door.”

“Who are you afraid of?” Eli shouted back.

Silence.

That heavy, suffocating silence frightened him more than any answer could have.

“Open the door, and I’ll explain.”

“You’ve had plenty of opportunities to explain,” Eli snapped. “Three weeks ago, something happened in the equipment room. You kissed me apparently. I kissed you first, according to a note I somehow wrote to myself without remembering a single second of it. And now someone is sending me pictures of us together.”

He swallowed hard, his throat dry. “So tell me, Adrian. What the hell is going on?”

“I can't explain everything through a door.”

“Then maybe you should have thought about that before lying to me.”

A sharp sound echoed from somewhere down the corridor.

Adrian immediately snapped his head around.

Eli heard it, too. Footsteps. Slow, deliberate footsteps approaching from the stairwell.

Adrian's expression shifted so rapidly that Eli almost missed it. The frustration vanished, replaced by a cold, stark panic an expression of raw fear Eli had never once seen on the face of Blackthorn University's untouchable hockey captain.

“Eli, listen to me carefully,” Adrian said, stepping closer to the wood. “Lock the chain. Don't open it for anyone except me.”

“You're the one standing outside!”

“I know.”

“That's not helping your case!”

“Parker, for once in your life, will you please stop arguing with me and listen?”

Eli almost laughed at the sheer absurdity of it. Even now, at the edge of a breakdown, Adrian Cross was trying to bark orders at him.

Then Adrian said something that killed the sarcastic response on Eli's tongue.

“Someone knows about us. Someone who was there that night.”

Eli's fingers tightened around his phone. “Who?”

Before Adrian could answer, a smooth, taunting voice drifted down the corridor.

“Captain Cross.”

The footsteps stopped.

Adrian closed his eyes for a second, looking like a man who had spent the last three weeks dreading this exact second.

The stranger chuckled softly. “You really should have stayed away from him.”

Eli moved toward the door hole. Through the distorted glass circle, he caught sight of Adrian's back and, several feet away, a tall man wrapped in a charcoal coat. His face was partly cast in shadow beneath a hood, but Eli recognized the posture instantly the relaxed shoulders, the casual confidence of someone who believed he held all the cards.

Then the stranger tilted his head.

Eli's stomach dropped.

He knew that face. Not well enough to call him a friend, but well enough to recognize him from the university hockey arena.

Dylan Hayes.

Blackthorn University's former star forward.

And Adrian's estranged ex-best friend.

Dylan had vanished from the team the previous semester after a brutal, public argument with the coach. Rumors swore he’d been caught betting against Blackthorn during a high-stakes game; others whispered that Adrian had personally turned him in. Whatever the dark truth was, Dylan had disappeared from the team's daily life.

Apparently, he hadn't disappeared from Adrian's.

“Get away from his door,” Adrian warned, his voice low and threatening.

Dylan smiled. “Still giving orders? Some things never change.”

“I'm not going to tell you again.”

“And I'm not going to keep pretending you didn't destroy my life.”

Eli stepped away from the doorhole, his mind racing. Destroy his life?

What did Adrian have to do with Dylan leaving the team? And why had Dylan chosen this exact moment to reappear?

“Three weeks,” Dylan continued, raising his voice. “You've spent three weeks pretending that little night never happened. Did you honestly think I wouldn't find out you were still keeping secrets from him?”

Adrian closed the distance between them. “Keep your voice down.”

“Why? Afraid your precious Eli might hear something he shouldn't?”

Eli's pulse hammered a frantic rhythm against his ribs. He unlocked his phone, slipped the camera app open, and positioned himself back by the door. He wasn't about to stand there like a helpless bystander while two ghosts from his past discussed his life as if he didn't exist.

He yanked the door open.

Both men whipped around toward him.

“Surprise,” Eli said, forcing his voice to remain steady. “I'm right here.”

Adrian's eyes widened in horror. “Eli, get back inside.”

“No.”

“Please.”

That single, desperate word frightened Eli more than any threat could have. Adrian never pleaded. He commanded, he threatened, and he stared people into silent submission. Yet now, he looked at Eli as though he were watching something precious slip irrevocably out of reach.

Dylan, on the other hand, looked utterly delighted.

“Well, look at that. The boy finally decided to join the conversation.”

Eli kept his gaze locked on Dylan. “If you've got something to say about me, say it to my face.”

“Oh, I have plenty to say.” Dylan glanced sideways at Adrian. “But your boyfriend here might not like all of it.”

“He isn't my boyfriend,” Eli snapped.

Adrian flinched.

It was a microscopic reaction, almost invisible, but Eli caught it. And for some infuriating reason, seeing that reaction irritated him. Adrian had spent weeks pushing him away, allegedly kissed him in secret, and was now standing in his hallway looking terrified of losing something they had never even admitted sharing.

Eli didn't even know what he wanted from Adrian anymore. He only knew he was exhausted by the shadows.

“Fine,” Dylan said smoothly. “Let's start with the equipment room.”

Adrian lunged forward, grabbing Dylan's arm. “Don't.”

Dylan looked down at Adrian's hand before slowly lifting his gaze. “Careful, Captain. You remember what happened the last time you tried to silence me.”

Adrian released him, his jaw tight.

Eli watched the silent exchange like a hawk. There was a deep, ugly history between them one that was unfinished and festering. And whatever had happened three weeks ago was only a single piece of a much larger puzzle.

“Tell me what happened,” Eli demanded.

Dylan reached slowly into his coat pocket.

Adrian instantly stepped back between them. “Don't you dare.”

“Relax. I'm not carrying a weapon.” Dylan pulled out his phone. “Just a little reminder.”

He tapped the screen and flipped it toward Eli.

The video was short, dimly lit, and unmistakably recorded inside Blackthorn University's athletic equipment room.

Eli recognized the towering rows of hockey sticks, the heavy metal shelving, and the wooden bench near the back wall. Then, he saw himself. He was sitting on the bench, head bowed, shoulders slumped with exhaustion. Adrian stood directly in front of him, holding out a bottle of water.

At first, there was no sound.

Then the camera angle shifted slightly, and Eli watched his own hand reach out to catch Adrian's wrist.

He heard his own voice echo from the speaker: “Don't go.”

In the recording, Adrian froze. Then Eli pulled him closer.

The kiss that followed was brief at first, hesitant and uncertain. Adrian pulled back, staring down at Eli as if reality had cracked open. But Eli had reached for him again, drawing him back down. And this time, Adrian kissed him back with a fierce, quiet desperation.

Eli stopped breathing.

The video cut to black.

For several agonizing seconds, the hallway was dead silent.

He had seen the stolen photograph. He had read the cryptic note. But watching himself kiss Adrian was entirely different. It wasn't a rumor, and it wasn't a trick of faulty memory. It was him reaching willingly for the one man he had spent months insisting he couldn't stand.

“Where did you get that?” Eli whispered, his voice shaking.

Dylan slipped his phone back into his coat pocket. “I was there.”

“Why were you recording us?”

“Because Adrian has a habit of telling people one thing and doing another.”

Adrian's voice cut through the air like ice. “This has nothing to do with Eli.”

“That's where you're wrong.” Dylan stepped closer, his eyes gleaming with malicious satisfaction. “Everything has to do with Eli now. Doesn't it?”

He looked directly at Eli. “Ask your captain why he begged me not to show you that video.”

Eli turned slowly to Adrian. “Is that true?”

Adrian didn't answer fast enough.

Eli's chest constricted. “You begged him?”

“I was trying to protect you.”

“From what? Knowing I kissed you?”

“No.” Adrian's dark eyes met his, heavy with a terrible weight. “From knowing why you did.”

The corridor seemed to shrink around them, the air turning thin. Eli stared at him, bewildered. “What does that mean?”

Dylan let out a low, humorless laugh. “Tell him, Adrian.”

“Shut up.”

“Tell him what you said after the kiss. Tell him what you promised me you would never let him remember.”

The last vestige of color drained from Adrian's face.

Eli looked between the two men, panic spiking in his veins. “Remember what?”

For the first time, Dylan's smug smile wavered, replaced by something sharp and bitter. “You really don't remember anything from that night, do you?”

“Stop talking in riddles!” Eli shouted.

“Ask Adrian why you were crying.”

The words struck Eli like a physical blow. Crying?

He scrambled frantically through his memory, trying to force the blank spaces of that night into focus. There was a sudden flash of blinding fluorescent lights. The harsh, sterile smell of ice and disinfectant. Adrian's thumb brushing gently across his flushed cheek.

And then—a whisper in the dark.

His own voice, cracking with terror: Please don't leave me.

Eli staggered back a half-step.

Adrian reached out instinctively, but Eli recoiled. “Don't touch me.”

Pain flashed across Adrian's features, but he obeyed, letting his hand drop.

Dylan watched them with an expression Eli couldn't decipher part triumph, part wounded bitterness. “You see?” Dylan said quietly. “He doesn't even know what you've done to him.”

A dark fury finally broke through Adrian's restraint. He lunged forward, grabbing Dylan by the lapels of his coat and slamming him hard against the opposite wall.

“Say one more word about him, and I swear to God"

“Adrian!” Eli yelled.

Adrian froze.

His chest heaved with heavy, ragged breaths. His knuckles were clenched tight in Dylan's coat, and for a terrifying second, Eli saw the brutal, aggressive captain everyone at Blackthorn feared the man who could turn an ice rink into a war zone and never look back.

Slowly, Adrian let go.

He stepped back, smoothing his voice into something chillingly flat. “Leave.”

Dylan straightened his coat, unruffled. “Gladly. But I'm not finished with either of you.”

He tossed one last look over his shoulder at Eli. “You deserve to know the truth. Just make sure you ask the right questions.”

Then, he turned and walked toward the stairwell.

Before disappearing around the corner, he paused. “Oh, and Adrian?”

Adrian didn't move a muscle.

Dylan's smile returned, cold and victorious. “Tell him what happened to the person who walked in on your little confession.”

And then he was gone.

The silence left in his wake was deafening.

Eli slowly turned back to face Adrian, his voice barely a breath. “Who walked in on us?”

Adrian stared blankly at the empty stairwell.

“Eli"

“Who?”

Adrian's jaw clenched so hard a muscle twitched in his cheek. For one dreadful moment, Eli thought he was going to lie again.

Instead, Adrian looked up, his eyes so flooded with a profound, aching regret that Eli felt a sharp pang in his chest.

“My brother.”

Eli blinked, thrown off balance. “You have a brother?”

“Yes.”

“What's his name?”

Adrian swallowed hard. “Daniel.”

Something in the way he spoke made the hair on Eli's arms stand on end. “What happened to him?”

Adrian averted his gaze. “Three weeks ago the night you kissed me Daniel disappeared.”

Eli stared at him, the hallway seeming to tilt beneath his feet. “Disappeared? What are you talking about?”

“He came to the equipment room looking for me. He saw us together, and an argument broke out. I left for a moment to get you water. When I came back, you were alone, and Daniel was gone.”

“Why didn't you report him missing?”

“I did.”

“Then why have I never heard a word about this?”

“Because he came back.”

Eli's heart hammered against his ribs. “Then what's the problem?”

Adrian finally forced himself to look Eli in the eye. “Because yesterday, I received a message from Daniel.”

He pulled out his phone and turned the screen toward Eli.

The text contained a single, chilling sentence:

I know you still love him. If you want him to stay alive, keep him away from me.

Eli's mouth went bone-dry. “Who sent this?”

“Daniel.”

“But you just said he was the one threatening us.”

“I know.” Adrian's voice cracked, the armor finally shattering. “That's why I'm terrified.”

Eli stared at the glowing screen, struggling to assemble the impossible pieces of the puzzle—the anonymous texts, the photographs, Dylan's venomous warnings, and now Adrian's absolute terror.

Then, a sudden, sharp chime cut through the quiet.

A new notification lit up Adrian's phone screen. A fresh message from the exact same number:

You should have told Eli what happened before I disappeared.

Adrian went completely, deadly still.

Eli looked up from the screen, his breath catching in his throat. “Adrian?”

A second notification blinked into view beneath the first:

Ask him who was really in that equipment room that night.

Adrian's fingers tightened around his phone until his knuckles turned white. And for the very first time since Eli had known him, the untouchable hockey captain looked like a man standing on the edge of a hole.

Because whatever had happened three weeks ago in the shadows of that room, Adrian had just realized one horrifying reality.

Someone else had been there.