The Call
1681 Words
KILLIAN.
"I'm disappointed in you, Knights." Coach says it in a calm tone, and I don't respond.
I stay where I am, hands buried inside the pockets of my hoodie, eyes fixed on the framed championship banners hanging behind his desk instead of looking at him directly. I already know what his face looks like right now and I'd rather not see it.
"First, you hit Connor in the locker room." He pauses, disappointment evident in his voice. "And then, as if that wasn't enough, you nearly beat a brand new player unconscious on my rink in front of the entire team."
"Connor provoked me, and that f*****g newbie shoved me on purpose." The words leave through clenched teeth as my fists tighten inside my pockets.
Coach stares at me without responding.
"I respect the hell out of you, Coach, but if you summoned me in here to apologize to those two shits, then I'm telling you right now, it's not happening." I let him hear how dead serious I am, before continuing.
"They deserved it, and they should be f*****g grateful I didn't knock every damn tooth out of their mouths."
Coach studies me for a long moment before pushing himself away from his desk.
He walks around it slowly until he's standing directly in front of me.
"Let me ask you something, Knights." He smiles at me. "Do you know why I made you captain?"
I don't know how to respond to that so I remain silent, waiting for him to speak again.
"I didn't choose you because you're the most talented player I've ever coached. I chose you because I believed you were the kind of leader these players could look up to." His words cause a strange tightness in my chest.
"But after what I watched today..." He sighs heavily. "I'm beginning to question whether I made the right decision."
Fuck.
Those words hit harder than any punch ever could.
I never wanted to be captain. I never asked for the responsibility or the pressure that comes with it, but somewhere along the way, that "C" on my jersey has become something I'm genuinely proud of.
It wasn't handed to me because of my last name. I earned it. And now it feels like it's slipping through my fingers because of two worthless bastards and my inability to control my temper.
"A leader doesn't solve every problem with his fists like some street thug, Knights." Coach's voice pulls me out of my thoughts. "The problem isn't Connor or Jordan, the problem is you."
"You let people get inside your head too easily, and you react before you think. If you don't learn to control that thing inside you, it's going to ruin everything you've worked so damn hard for."
I hate how right he is.
"Coach..."
"Let me finish." His tone hardens just enough to shut me up.
"I know things aren't easy for you, and I'm aware you carry more pressure than anyone your age should." Coach's voice softens as he places both hands on my shoulders. "But once you step onto my ice, leave every bit of that s**t outside those doors."
I nod, swallowing hard.
"Our season opener is in twelve days and I need my captain focused on hockey."
Relief almost knocks the air out of me when he calls me captain.
"Now...we have another issue." Coach exhales, stepping back. I have a feeling I'm not gonna like where this is heading.
"I can't let what you did today slide without consequences. The whole team saw what happened, and if I do nothing, they're going to think my captain gets away with whatever the hell he wants."
I let out a dry laugh.
Half of them already think that, but I pretend not to notice.
"So..." He folds his arms. "As punishment, you'll be assisting Coach Dickson with the university's middle-school hockey development camp. Three sessions a week until further notice."
I stare at him, horrified.
Surely I heard that wrong.
"You want me coaching children?" I can't help but glare at him.
"Assisting." He corrects, grinning. "There's a difference."
"Are you f*****g serious right now?"
"Language." He scolds. "And yes, I'm serious. Would you prefer I bench you for the opener instead?"
Of-course-f*****g-not.
"Fine. I'll do it." I bite the word out. It's not like I have a choice.
I leave his office a few minutes later still fuming.
What the actual f**k?
Today just keeps finding new ways to screw me over.
By the time I step outside, there's only one thing on my mind.
Sex.
After the day I've had, all I want is to bury myself deep inside a p***y, and forget everything for a while.
I pull my phone from my pocket, already scrolling through my contacts. There are at least three girls who've been blowing up my phone all week, sending nudes.
I'm about to hit the call button when I remember I'm in a f*****g fake relationship now.
I can't risk everything getting exposed.
The second I f**k one of those girls, they'll run their mouths to their friends, or straight-up tell people they slept with Killian Knight.
Word spreads fast on this campus, and if anyone finds out I'm still hooking up with random girls while supposedly dating Ophelia, the whole thing will blow up.
I let out a frustrated groan, shoving my phone back into my pocket.
Looks like porn and my hand are going to be my only option for the foreseeable future.
Just f*****g great.
This fake relationship is already turning out to be more of a pain in the ass than I expected.
"Are you ready to leave now, sir?"
I release a long sigh when I hear one of my bodyguards' voice. I almost forget they exist.
"Yeah. Let's go." I pull my sunglasses over my eyes and continue walking toward the parking lot while they fall into step behind me.
One of them hurries ahead to open the car door like I'm some f*****g prince, but I beat him to it, yank the door open myself, and climb inside.
I slide into the back seat and slam the door shut myself.
My phone vibrates and I pull it out. I glance down, expecting to see Father calling again, but it's Ophelia.
"Sweet Lips." I grin as I answer the call, expecting to hear her sweet voice, but all I hear is the sound of water running, then something rustles against the phone.
"Ophelia?"
Another muffled sound reaches me.
What the f**k is going on?
I can still hear the shower running, but I still can't hear her voice.
Is this some kind of sick joke?
"Ophelia, I'm really not in the mood for games right now. Tell me what the hell is going on or I'm hanging up."
I'm just about to end the call when a quiet sob reaches my ears.
I sit upright so fast my sunglasses nearly slide off my face.
"What the f**k?" I bark. "Ophelia? Where the hell are you?"
Another muffled cry reaches me.
It sounds like she's trying to talk, but she can't.
"Turn the car around." I order the driver.
The SUV immediately makes a sharp U-turn, then I hand my phone to one of my bodyguards.
He doesn't ask a single question. He flips open his laptop, connects my phone to it, and immediately starts tracing the location.
"Ophelia." I force my voice to stay calm despite the panic clawing at my chest. "Listen to me, okay? Don't hang up. Just keep the call connected. I'm coming to you."
The tracker leads us straight back to campus.
The second the SUV comes to a stop, I don't even wait for the driver to open the door. I shove it open myself, sprinting toward the building, my bodyguards right behind me.
The signal finally stops outside the women's restroom beside the cheer gym. Without thinking twice, I shove the door open.
The sight in front of me makes every drop of blood in my body run cold.
Ophelia is on her knees under the freezing water. Her wrists are tied painfully behind her back, and a cloth is stuffed into her mouth, and she's only on her bra and panties.
Her entire body is shaking, and those huge eyes are filled with so much terror.
Tears stream down her cheeks, vanishing into the water pouring over her.
Jesus Christ.
I quickly turn off the shower and drop to my knees.
"Hey... hey..." My hands shake as I quickly untie the rope digging into her wrists.
The angry red marks wrapped around them make my blood boil hotter. The second her hands are free, I gently pull the gag from her mouth.
She gasps, sucking in air between sobs.
"Are you okay?" I whisper, cradling her wet cheeks in my palms, my thumbs brushing away tears and water.
She shakes her head frantically, more tears spilling over.
"They… they took photos of me," her lips tremble as she forces the words out, "I begged them to stop but they just kept taking pictures…"
My hands stay gentle on her face even as my fists itch to destroy something.
"Who the f**k were they?" I manage to keep my voice calm.
"Some girls," she stammers, voice cracking. "Chelsea and the others from the cheer squad. If they upload those photos, Killian, I'm going to be a laughing stock. Everyone on campus will see them. My life will be over—"
"Hey, hey," I murmur softly, tilting her face so she has to meet my eyes. "Breathe, princess. I've got you. No one is going to see those pictures, I swear it."
"You promise?"
"I promise." I respond, tucking a strand of wet hair behind her ear, my thumb lingering on her cheek.
She draws in a shaky breath, giving me a nod.
"Thank you… for coming," she mumbles, voice still trembling.
"My girlfriend called me for help." I shrug one shoulder. "I'd be a pretty shitty boyfriend if I didn't show up."
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