Trashing My Ex with the Ice King

Chapter 7

HENRY’S POV

That bastard's words rang in my ears on a loop, drowning out the frantic whispers of the students in the corridor.

Mary Collins is mine now.

My hands clenched into tight fists at my side. Nineteen years. For nineteen years, I was the only man allowed to hold Mary’s hand. I played the perfect prince, painstakingly suppressing all my desires because Richard Collins, her father, was a control freak who watched his daughter's every move. Let alone sleep with her, I had to force myself to keep a respectful distance like a perfect gentleman. f**k.

And now, Ryder Vance suddenly swoops in, wrapping his arm intimately around Mary's waist as if she were his to ruin?

My blood boiled as I stared at Ryder's broad back walking away with Mary. My hatred for that prick wasn't new. We went to the same high school, and his presence had always been a massive threat. Then he moved to Canada, became the national hockey captain there, and now his father dragged him back to Chicago. The return of the Vance Group heir wasn't just threatening my popularity, but also my position as the varsity hockey captain at Kingsley.

No. I shook my head slowly. This has to be a setup.

Mary loved me. There was no way she could move on in a matter of days. Ryder was definitely using her to destroy me. But... seeing the possessive way Ryder's hand rested on her waist, and the undeniable fact that Mary didn't push him away... my stomach twisted into a sickening knot.

Did that bastard actually sleep with her?

"Henry? Are you even listening to me?!"

A harsh tug on my arm shattered my thoughts. I turned to find Scarlett staring at me, her face flushed and her eyes welling with tears.

"He's obviously just using her, Henry!" Scarlett demanded, her voice shrill with panic as she noticed the crowd starting to whisper about her. "That bankrupt girl must have begged Ryder to—"

"Shut your mouth, Scarlett," I hissed sharply, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

Scarlett gasped. Her grip on my arm slowly loosened. For the first time, I saw genuine fear in her eyes—the sudden realization that I hadn't entirely let Mary go.

I didn't care. I ignored Scarlett and turned away, my jaw clenched tight. My mind rewound to the memories before the Collins family went bankrupt. Mary, always showing up to my games. Mary, always looking at me with pure admiration. She was mine. Even though I was the one who threw her away, she was still mine.

So why did seeing her with Ryder piss me off this much?

My long, furious strides carried me straight to the ice arena. The hockey locker room was relatively empty this time of day, save for a few teammates killing time between classes.

I hurled my duffel bag into a metal locker with a deafening slam.

BAM!

The sound echoed through the room, instantly killing the chatter in the corner.

"Yo, take it easy, Cap," Ethan, our winger and my best friend, leaned against his locker with a raised eyebrow. "Why do you look like you're ready to murder someone?"

I ignored Ethan. My gaze locked onto two guys sitting on the long bench nearby. Mason and Liam. Two of Ryder's former high school buddies whom I absolutely despised. Even now, I knew they secretly still worshipped the ground Ryder walked on.

Without a word, I closed the distance. My hand shot out, grabbing Mason by the collar of his t-shirt and yanking him up so roughly that his water bottle clattered to the floor.

"What the f**k—! What is your problem, Davis?!" Mason cursed, struggling against my grip.

"Tell me right now," I hissed, my face inches from his. "How long has Ryder known Mary?!"

Mason scoffed, a mocking smirk appearing on his lips. He didn't look remotely intimidated by my captain status. "I don't know s**t about his business. I haven't been in touch with Ryder for a long time, even though he's back."

"Liar," I growled, tightening my grip around his neck until he choked slightly. "You think I don't know you and Liam used to tail that bastard everywhere back in high school? Tell me, or I'm crossing your name off the starting roster this afternoon."

Seeing Mason gasping for air, Liam finally stood up from the bench. He looked at me with a gaze of pure pity—a look that made my blood boil even hotter.

"Let him go, Henry," Liam said calmly.

My breath hitched. I released Mason's collar only to shove Liam hard in the chest, challenging him. "Oh yeah? Then what was it about?"

Liam stared at me for a few seconds. A gaze that made my skin crawl. A gaze of pity. As if I were the last person to realize something that everyone else already knew.

Then, he let out a short chuckle.

"Hilarious."

"What?"

"You dated Mary for years. Yet you never even noticed the guy who was always watching her."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Mason cursed under his breath, looking as though he wished Liam would just shut up.

But Liam only smiled.

"Why do you think Ryder broke your nose that night, Henry?"

I froze.

The memories of that Sweet Sixteen party slammed into my head. Blood. Fists. Ryder. A brutal, unhinged rage that made absolutely no sense at the time.

"What set him off was hearing what you said about Mary in the locker room," Liam continued smoothly. "That sick bet about how fast you could take her virginity."

My heart stopped beating.

Liam offered a tight smile. "If I were you, Davis... I'd start asking since when Ryder stopped looking at Mary as just a childhood friend."

The blood drained from my body entirely. I took a step back, my spine hitting the locker door with a loud thud.

My mind spun wildly. The crazy stunt in the lobby earlier... Ryder's hand on her waist... The way Ryder looked at her... It wasn't an act. Ryder wasn't using her to destroy me. That bastard actually wanted Mary. He had wanted her for a long time, lurking in the shadows, waiting for the exact moment I loosened my grip.

And I, like an absolute fool, had handed Mary right into his arms.

My breathing grew ragged. No. I wasn't going to let this happen.

I spun around and sprinted out of the locker room, ignoring Ethan shouting my name. I had to find Mary. I had to get her away from that bastard before it was too late.

I jumped into my car, slamming on the gas and tearing around the campus perimeter like a madman. Finally, my eyes caught the familiar silhouette of the matte-black Lamborghini speeding out of the west gates.

My hands gripped the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white. I tailed them from a safe distance, keeping my car hidden in Chicago's late afternoon traffic. My brain desperately spun scenarios. Maybe Ryder is just dropping her off at Elena's apartment. Yes. I'll intercept her there. I'll get on my knees and beg her to come back.

But when the Lamborghini bypassed the suburbs and headed straight into the heart of the financial district, surrounded by towering skyscrapers, my stomach dropped.

The black car pulled up to the exclusive drop-off zone of a building I recognized all too well. Vance Tower.

I slammed on the brakes across the street, the air leaving my lungs at the sight unfolding in front of me.

A valet rushed over to open the Lamborghini's door. Ryder stepped out first. Then, Mary climbed out of the passenger side. There was no coercion. No arguing. They looked too... comfortable.

Ryder tossed his keys to the valet. Then, without any warning, his bastard hands shot out. Before Mary could even react, Ryder effortlessly scooped her up, tossing her over his broad shoulder like she weighed absolutely nothing.

Mary let out a startled shriek, her hands instinctively beating against his back. I could hear her protesting, but the sound was laced with a breathless, undeniable laugh. Ryder didn't put her down. He just smirked, ignoring her protests entirely, and carried her straight through the glass doors of the luxurious penthouse lobby as if she belonged to him.

My world shattered in an instant.

They were living together.

My chest felt like it had been crushed by a cinderblock. Nineteen years I spent playing the perfect gentleman around Mary, constantly failing to truly touch her—let alone get her into my bed—all because of that damn Richard Collins. And now? The bastard who had been obsessed with her since they were kids just effortlessly carried her into his penthouse in exactly two days.

My phone vibrated on the passenger seat. Scarlett's name flashed across the screen.

Filled with absolute disgust, I grabbed the phone and smashed it against the dashboard, shattering the glass completely. I stared blankly at the closed doors of Vance Tower, feeling my chest torn apart by the most brutal regret of my life.

That bastard got everything.