SAINT, SINNER, AND THE GIRL IN BETWEEN

Chapter 6: Ryder The Predator

RYDER

Miles’ voice cuts through the quiet of the rink like a blade. I snap my head toward it, and so does she. Miles stands there tall and infuriatingly perfect, his eyes sharp and furious. For a split second, I see exactly why everyone worships him. That aura, that effortless control presses down on me, making my chest tighten. Calla stiffens beside me and I can feel her panic radiating before it even hits her face. She jerks back and pulls away. I taste the sudden sting of rejection, not from her, but from the fact that Miles’ presence alone can make everything I have been trying to reach crumble.

She loses her footing. I lunge, trying to catch her, but she yanks away. She hits the ice with a thud that reverberates in my chest. I bite back a curse.

“Calla!” I hiss, rushing toward her. My hands hover, ready to help, but she inches away before I can reach her. She glares at me her eyes wide and full of panic.

“Don’t... don’t touch me!” Her voice is so harsh echoing across the empty rink.

My stomach knots tighter, an unwelcome heat blooming across my chest. For a second, I don’t move. Not because I can’t, but because I don’t understand. The words hit harder than the fall. I replay the moment in my head, searching for where I went wrong, where I crossed a line I didn’t even see. But all I find is her pulling away like I burned her. Like I’m exactly what they say I am.

And then he is there. Miles, her knight in shining armor towering above her. His presence makes the air feel like it just got thicker. His jaw is tight, his eyes dangerous when he shoots me a warning look.

“Are you okay?” he asks, leaning to help her out of the skates. She doesn’t protest. She leans into him, safe in his arms. My hands still hover uselessly frozen.

“I think I twisted my ankle,” she says painfully, clutching at her foot.

“Come on. I will take you to the nurse,” Miles says, helping her up.

I open my mouth, something inside me desperate and pleading. “I— I’m sorry, Calla. I didn’t mean— ”

Miles’s head snaps toward me, his eyes flaring. “Shut up, weirdo,” he spits venomously. “You are the reason she got hurt. Stay away from her.”

Calla doesn’t correct him. She doesn’t even look at me. Her body leans toward Miles letting him take the spotlight, letting him shield her, letting him cast me aside without question. I watch her leave after one quick, almost imperceptible glance over her shoulder. The look in her eyes is unreadable, but not apologetic.

I stand there, my chest tight, my knuckles white on my sides. The rink is suddenly too quiet. I should feel anger. I should feel frustration. But I feel something deeper, something like hunger.

The space between me and her, the space between me and people like her and Miles is bigger than I thought. Unbreachable, maybe. A wall I almost touched for a fraction of a second and now feels miles away. But I’m not done. Not by a long shot.

I step back, inhaling, forcing the cold air into my lungs to anchor me and calm this fire inside. But the fire doesn’t calm. The humiliation and the sharp sting of being dismissed, the invisible walls closing around me pushes something dark and purposeful into the forefront of my mind.

Calla Pierce thinks she can hide behind Miles Bennett and pretend I don’t exist. That’s fine. Let her. But I will make sure she sees me. Not as a nobody, not as the boy whispered about in corridors, not as the one everyone assumes destroys everything good. She will see me. She will know me. And she will want me.

It will take time and patience. It will take careful moves and calculated steps. But I will be good at this. Calla Pierce just became my mission. Not out of spite and not even out of jealousy. This is out of necessity. She is the one who will finally be the doorway into showing this school who I really am. The wall between us isn’t gone, not even scratched. But soon it will crumble. It must.

I tighten my fists. My stomach twists with a dark thrill. This is no longer about tutoring sessions for better grades, or hockey, or high school politics. This is about being seen and being acknowledged. And nothing, not Miles, and not her fear or her silence will stop me.

“Just you wait, Calla Pierce,” I murmur to the empty rink, my voice low and smooth. “You will be mine within no time.”

I head back to where we left our bags, hoping at least my stuff survived the chaos. Calla’s things are gone. My art sketchbook lies open on the floor, pages scuffed and stepped on. I gather everything slowly like I always do. This is not my first rodeo. Not even close.

Back to the main school building, the hallway is a minefield of stares. Whispers scrape against my ears, some not so subtle. “I heard he just tried to kiss Calla forcefully after secluding her.”

My chest tightens. Did she say that? Did Miles start it? It doesn’t matter. Everyone’s eyes are on me like I’m some predator walking in the hallway. I'm not surprised. Not really. The wall between us isn’t going to be easy to breach. Calla Pierce will never side with me easily. Miles will always be untouchable as long as he controls the narrative. I’m invisible in their world, except for when they want a scapegoat. But not forever.

I roll my shoulders once, forcing the tension out even though it clings to me like a second skin. Let them stare and whisper. They have already decided who I am. This time, I won’t fight it the way they expect. I won’t lash out. I won’t give Miles the reaction he wants. But he will get what he deserves before the year ends.