Keira
I showed the text to Ryder the next morning, meeting him outside the practice facility before he'd even had a chance to lace up his skates. He read it twice, jaw tightening with each pass, and handed the phone back with a kind of controlled fury I hadn't seen from him since the café incident.
"He's bluffing," he said. "Trying to rattle you."
"What if he's not?"
"Then we deal with it. But I'm not letting him win by making you scared to exist in your own life." He glanced toward the rink doors, where the rest of the team was already filing in for morning practice. "Come inside. Stay where people can see you. I don't like the idea of you being alone right now."
I followed him in, settling into the empty bleachers overlooking the ice, planning to catch up on reading for class while
