CHAPTER TWENTY-seven
ZACH
After workouts, we headed back to the Pond—and then straight out again. Taylor and I were supposed to hit Campus Safety alone, but surprise, the guys tagged along. Said it was"insurance."
Apparently, me telling them how Taylor had already tried filing for a restraining order before, only to get brushed off forlack of evidence,lit a fuse.
So their logic was simple: if Campus Safety tried that crap again, they'd have six pissed-off hockey players staring them down.
And honestly? That's the kind of loyalty that makes me love these idiots.
They might be reckless, foul-mouthed manwhores on and off the ice, but damn if they don't have a moral compass buried in there somewhere.
Which is how Taylor ended up rolling into Campus Safety with her own personal Secret Service detail. Six guys, all over six feet, crowding behind her like a wall of meat.
Safe to say, it worked.
The second we said we were there to report an incident, the officers scrambled like we'd just called in a SWAT team.
Normally, Campus Safety takes forever. Like, you file a report, and then you wait three to five business years while they"review the footage"and"open an investigation."
By the time they actually do anything, you're either graduated or dead—sometimes both.
This time? Whole different story.
Suddenly they were running, what, some VIP"expedite service"? Paperwork flying, surveillance footage queued up onthe spot, officers nodding so fast I thought their necks would snap.
And I knew exactly why. The Archer twins.
They went full scorched-earth the second we walked in.
Luke dropped their family name like a nuke, casually reminding Campus Safety who basically funded half their shiny new offices. Liam backed it up with the not-so-subtle threat that jobs have a funny way of disappearing when the donors aren't happy.
And wow, did it work.
Suddenly, Campus Safety was bending over backward to make sure Taylor's case got handled ASAP.
By the time we left, Taylor's report was filed, the surveillance tape was reviewed, and the restraining order was already being processed. What usually drags on for days got wrapped up in less than two hours.
Customer satisfaction guaranteed. Five stars. Would recommend.
By the time I pull up in front of her apartment building, the sun's already high enough to cast everything in sharp daylight. It's late morning, traffic buzzing past, a couple of students hustling across the sidewalk with coffee cups in hand.
I ease into an open spot at the curb and kill the engine.
For a minute, neither of us moves. Just the hum of the cooling car and the muffled buzz of the city outside.
Taylor leans back in her seat, exhaling like she's finally letting go of a weight she's been hauling around for months. When she turns to me, she actually smiles—soft, genuine. Not the brittle mask she wore yesterday when fear had her by the throat. Her eyes don't look haunted anymore. Relief's lit her face, and it's the first time she doesn't look like she's bracing for Kirk to come charging out of the shadows.
"Thank you, Zach." she says quietly. "And tell your friends thanks, too. They didn't have to do all that for me, but... it meant a lot."
I nod, a half-smile tugging at my mouth. "We're happy to help. All of us. Honestly..." I pause, scratching the back of my neck. "Are you really okay staying here all by yourself?"
She nods without hesitation. "Yeah. I'm good, Zach. Really."
"Campus Police said they're rotating patrols through this area while the paperwork's still in process," I remind her. "So you're not on your own. Kirk's getting served within three to five days—they promised."
"Three to five days." She repeats it like she's testing the weight of the words, then nods again. "That's enough. Just knowing something's happening—it's a huge relief."
