The Price of Silence

The moment the lecture ended, I didn't wait for the professor to pack up. I scooped Caspian into my arms, shoved his toys into my bag, and bolted out the back doors before Casper could even untangle himself from Chloe. I ran down the concrete stairwell, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs until I burst out into the chilly autumn afternoon.

"Liv! Over here!"

Freya was waiting by the campus fountain, her sleek black SUV idling at the curb. The second she saw my face, she leaped out of the driver's seat and grabbed the heavy diaper bag from my shoulder.

"Get in," she ordered, buckling a sleepy Caspian into his car seat with practiced speed.

I collapsed into the passenger seat, my trembling hands clamping over my face. The scent of Freya’s expensive leather seats usually made me feel guilty, but right now, it was a sanctuary.

"He almost saw him," I whispered, my voice cracking as Freya climbed back in and slammed the door shut. "Caspian dropped a toy. Casper looked down. If I hadn't grabbed his face..."

"You touched him?" Freya’s eyes widened as she pulled into the campus traffic. "Liv, you’re playing with fire. If Casper connects the dots, his parents will find out. You know what they’ll do if they think you’re trying to trap him with a kid."

"I’m not trapping anyone," I snapped, the exhaustion making my tone sharper than I intended. I softened, looking over at my best friend. "I’m sorry. I'm just so tired, Freya. His parents told me they’d destroy him. They had the legal paperwork ready to kick him out of Crestview. I can't let him lose his NHL draft. Not for me."

"But what about you?" Freya asked, her voice thick with emotion. She pulled a crisp hundred-dollar bill from her purse and tried to shove it into my hand. "Take it. Call out of the locker room shift today. Tell the coach you’re sick."

I pushed her hand back, my stubborn pride flaring up like a shield. "No. If I skip, Casper wins. He told the coach I 'volunteered' for the permanent shift. If I don't show up, I lose the twenty dollars an hour, and I risk my spot on the cheer squad. I need that tuition waiver, Freya. I am graduating."

Freya sighed, knowing better than to argue when I used that tone. "Fine. But I’m keeping Caspian until midnight. Don't you dare argue with me on that."

"Thank you," I whispered, leaning my head against the cold window.

Two hours later, the sanctuary of Freya’s car was a distant memory. I was back in the uniform I hated, my feet aching as I pushed a heavy rolling laundry bin into the athletic complex. The Wolves' afternoon practice had just ended, and the hallway outside the locker room vibrated with the heavy, thudding sounds of hockey sticks slamming against walls and boys shouting over the roar of the showers.

I stood by the equipment cage, waiting for the team to clear out so I could begin my cleaning shift. My stomach twisted into knots.

"Hey, locker girl."

I stiffened. Turning around, I saw a guy wearing a blue and white jersey—not our school's colors. It was Marcus Vance, Casper's bitter rival from the University Vipers. I hadn't realized their team was on our campus for an upcoming exhibition match.

Marcus leaned against the wall, a greasy smirk on his face as his eyes traveled down my cheer skirt. "Aren't you the one Casper was staring at during the game? The freshman transfer?"

"Senior," I corrected coldly, gripping the handle of my laundry bin. "And I'm working. Move."

"Temper, temper," Marcus chuckled, stepping into my path, blocking the hallway. "Casper acts like he owns this rink, but I know a pretty distraction when I see one. What's a girl like you doing cleaning up after him anyway? You look like you belong in a luxury suite, not scrubbing floors."

"She belongs exactly where I put her," a dark, lethal voice boomed from behind us.

Marcus froze. I looked past him and felt the air leave my lungs.

Casper was standing at the entrance of the locker room tunnel. He was drenched in sweat, his chest heaving under his damp gray training shirt. He held his hockey stick loose in one hand, but his silver-blue eyes were fixed on Marcus with a violence that made the air feel heavy.

"Vance," Marcus sneered, trying to sound casual, though he stepped back from me. "Just making conversation with the staff."

Casper didn't look at me. He kept his eyes locked on Marcus, taking a slow, menacing step forward. The sheer size of him in his padded shorts made Marcus look small.

"Get off my campus, Marcus," Casper said, his voice dropping to a gravelly, dangerous register. "If I see you breathing near her again, I won't wait for the referee to blow the whistle. I will break your jaw on the ice."

"She’s just a cleaner, man," Marcus muttered, his face turning pale as he raised his hands and began backing down the hallway. "No need to get unhinged."

The second Marcus disappeared around the corner, the heavy silence of the hallway crashed down on us.

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. "I didn't need your help, Casper."

Casper turned his head slowly, his icy gaze finally dropping to my face. The protective rage in his eyes shifted instantly into a cruel, mocking disdain. He stepped closer, the sharp scent of his sweat and wintergreen ice filling the narrow corridor.

"Don't flatter yourself, Olivia," he sneered, his jaw clenching. "I didn't do that for you. I did it because you're my punishment to deal with. Nobody touches my things until I'm done with them."

He leaned in, his lips inches from my ear, his hot breath sending an agonizing shiver down my spine.

"The boys left a massive mess in the showers today," he whispered maliciously. "Get to work. And don't miss a single spot."

He turned and walked away, his heavy skates clicking sharply against the concrete floor. I stood alone in the hallway, my hands shaking against the plastic laundry bin, the echo of his cruelty ringing in my ears.