My Brother's Hockey Teammate

When Hope Walks In

Sophie

Grayson doesn’t answer any of my calls. Of course, he probably thinks I’m disturbing his precious time. I can’t help the irritation that rises in me as I stare at my phone, wondering why he can’t spare a few seconds to answer.

The argument between Jake and Thomas is finally coming to an end when Jake speaks up. “Look, Thomas. You’re drunk now. Let’s talk about this tomorrow when we’re both calm and sober.”

Hearing this, Thomas falls silent for a moment before exchanging a long look between Jake and me.

I nod, trying to handle the situation calmly. “Yes, Jake’s right. We should end this discussion now.”

A moment passes before Thomas finally nods. He turns and walks away, leaving Jake and me alone.

The moment Thomas leaves, Jake turns to me, the anger still evident on his face. “What the hell is wrong with him?”

I grip the fabric of my hoodie, biting my tongue to keep the truth from slipping out.

I don’t want to burden him with everything that’s going on, especially when Mom isn’t even here to support us. Jake is still recovering, and I know he has enough on his mind without adding Thomas’s behavior to the list.

So I force myself to brush it off, hoping he’ll let the matter go.

“Leave it,” I say, keeping my voice as casual as I can. “He might be going through something.”

Jake watches me for a moment, clearly still bothered, but I quickly add, “Perhaps Mom and he had an argument. Maybe that’s why he’s acting like this.”

He seems to consider my words before finally nodding, some of the tension leaving his face. “Makes sense,” he says.

“But what is his deal with Grayson? Why does he want Grayson to leave?”

I know exactly why.

Grayson has confronted him before. He knows something is off about Thomas, even if he doesn’t know the whole truth. Maybe he has noticed the way Thomas looks at me, or the way his behavior changes when no one else is around.

Either way, Thomas clearly sees Grayson as a threat.

And that scares me more than I want to admit.

I might not have told Grayson everything about Thomas, but he knows something is wrong. Perhaps he has heard or seen something that I don’t know about. And if things escalate any further, I’m afraid he might reveal whatever he knows to Jake or Mom.

I’m scared to death right now. My hands are literally shaking, but I force myself to stay calm, careful not to let Jake notice how nervous I really am.

“Alright, I’m done. I’ll wait for Grayson in my room,” Jake tells me, pushing his food away.

I’ve lost my appetite too. I quietly gather our leftovers and put them in the fridge, trying to keep my hands steady despite the fear still coursing through me.

As Jake heads toward his room in his wheelchair, I walk with him for a while before we reach the stairs. I take them up to my room while Jake continues down to the basement in the elevator.

Another hour passes, and I’m still sitting at my laptop, searching for ways to confront a psychopath who lives under the same roof as me.

Every search leads to another piece of advice, but none of it feels useful when the person I’m dealing with is Thomas.

Jake must be asleep by now. It’s almost midnight, and his medication is strong enough to knock him out. At least, I hope he’s sleeping peacefully, unaware of everything happening upstairs.

I’m still waiting for Grayson, hoping he’ll eventually return. But there’s still no sign of him—no call back, no text, nothing. With every passing minute, I start convincing myself that he simply doesn’t care.

Lost in my thoughts, I suddenly hear a knock on my door.

I nearly jump out of my skin when another series of knocks follows, louder and more persistent than the first.

“Yes?” I ask, secretly hoping it isn’t Thomas.

“Sophie, open up…”

The ground seems to slip beneath my feet when I hear his familiar voice. Thomas is banging on my door, his knocks becoming more desperate with every passing second.

“What do you want?” I ask through the door, my hands resting cautiously on the doorknob. I don’t have the courage to open it and face him.

His anger still lingers at the back of my mind, and fear takes over my entire body.

“I want a Band-Aid. Do you have one?”

Realizing that he might be hurt, I reach for the doorknob and slowly twist it open. He stands in front of me, a small cut visible on his finger with a tiny drop of blood resting on the wound.

“What happened?” I ask, concern creeping into my voice.

He tells me he cut himself on a broken glass.

I turn toward my drawer to look for a Band-Aid when he suddenly says, “I thought your room was locked because Grayson is with you.”

A chill runs down my spine.

I freeze, my eyes widening in shock.

I turn back to look at him. “What would Grayson be doing in my room?”

His eyes narrow as he looks at me. “I don’t know. You tell me.”

I part my lips to respond, but he cuts me off.

“He was in your room a few days ago.”

Realizing what he’s talking about, I’m relieved that he doesn’t know what Grayson did to me. But who the hell is he to question me about it? Thomas is getting far too personal about my life, and this needs to stop.

What I learned in today’s online lecture was that I shouldn’t let anyone cross my boundaries. If I don’t say something to him now, he’ll keep asking me personal questions in the future.

“Thomas, I think you need to mind your own business,” I tell him through gritted teeth. “Please leave my room, or I’ll call Mom and tell her how you behaved with Jake earlier.”

Thomas scoffs at me, then spits in a snarling voice, “So you’re going to blackmail me now, just like that bastard Grayson, huh?”

Clenching my fists in anger, I push the door shut, but it hits his arm. The next moment, I’m shocked when he shoves me backward, sending me onto the bed.

Thomas slams the door behind him, and I’m stunned by his sudden move. He looks down at me like a hungry animal, and my heart begins pounding harder against my chest.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I shout.

His wicked laugh reaches my ears. “You think screaming and shouting will help you? Jake can’t walk, remember?”

I stare at him in shock as he continues, “And if you’re thinking about your beloved Grayson coming to save you, then you’re wrong.”

I barely have time to react before Thomas moves toward me. My heart jolts as I scramble backward across the bed, desperately trying to put as much distance between us as possible.

“No,” I whisper, but the word comes out barely louder than a breath. Panic takes over completely when he reaches me before I can get away.

He grabs hold of me and forces me down onto the mattress, and I immediately struggle beneath him, pushing against his chest and twisting my body in an attempt to break free.

My arms strain as I fight against his grip, every instinct screaming at me to get away from him.

“Get off me!”

My scream echoes through the room, but there is no one to help me. I scream again, tears spilling down my cheeks as I struggle against him, refusing to stop fighting.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I keep hoping someone will hear me. Maybe Jake will somehow come upstairs. Maybe Grayson will walk through that door at the exact moment I need him.

I cling to those thoughts because I don’t know what else to hold on to.

But the seconds continue to pass, and still, no one comes. With every moment that slips away, the small amount of hope I’m holding onto begins to fade.

Then my hand brushes against my phone, and desperation takes over. I reach for it with trembling fingers, grab it, and quickly unlock the screen before calling Grayson. The phone begins to ring, and I silently pray that he answers.

I barely have time to bring the phone to my ear before Thomas notices what I’m doing. Desperation gives me a sudden burst of strength, and I reach for the lamp beside my bed, swinging it at him with everything I have left.

He recoils, momentarily startled by the blow, and I immediately reach for my phone again, pressing it against my ear.

“Grayson—”

The phone slips from my hand before I can say anything else and crashes onto the floor. Before I can reach for it, Thomas grabs me again, pulling me away as I cry out and desperately claw at anything within reach.

Tears blur my vision, but I refuse to stop fighting. I keep struggling against him, screaming until my voice begins to break, holding on to the desperate hope that somehow, someone will hear me.

Everything becomes a blur of tears, fear, and desperate resistance. I can barely tell what is happening anymore, my entire body trembling as I fight to hold on to whatever strength I have left.

Then, suddenly—

The bedroom door bursts open.

Thomas is violently ripped away from me.

I freeze, barely able to process what just happened.

Someone grabs him by the shirt and yanks him away from me, throwing him against the wall with enough force to make the room tremble. I remain frozen on the bed, struggling to catch my breath as tears continue to blur my vision.

Slowly, I lift my head and look toward the person standing between me and Thomas.

Its Grayson.

My heart nearly stops when I realize it’s him.

He stands between Thomas and me, his chest rising and falling heavily as he struggles to control his breathing. There is a fury on his face I have never seen before, and for a moment, I can’t take my eyes off him.

Then his gaze finds mine.

Our eyes meet, and everything around us seems to fade into the background. For a few seconds, neither of us moves or says a word. I don’t even know whether I’m crying harder because Grayson is finally here or because, now that I see him standing between me and Thomas, I’m finally allowing myself to realize just how terrified I was.

“Grayson…”

My voice breaks as his name leaves my lips.

The fury remains, but now there’s something else behind it—something darker and far more dangerous.

Then his gaze shifts toward Thomas.

Before I can even process what he’s about to do, Grayson’s fist connects with Thomas’s face.

Thomas stumbles backward, but Grayson grabs him again, his anger completely taking over.

Another punch lands.

Then another.

I stare at them through my tears, frozen between fear and disbelief as Grayson unleashes the rage he has been holding back.

“Grayson, stop!” I cry, but my voice barely reaches him.

The anger burning in his eyes should terrify me, yet somehow, for the first time tonight, I feel a small sense of safety knowing he is here.

Finally, Grayson steps back, breathing heavily as he tries to regain control of himself. His gaze shifts from Thomas to me, and the moment his eyes meet mine, the anger in his expression seems to soften.

I pull the blanket tightly around myself, my entire body still trembling as I struggle to process everything that has just happened.

He looks at me for a long moment, his eyes lingering on my tear-streaked face before his jaw tightens. Whatever he sees seems to make his expression harden again as he turns toward Thomas, his anger returning to his eyes.

“I’m calling the police.”