I walk around the back of the car, then freeze. The back passenger-side tire is also flat. But it’s more than that. There’s a slash in the tire, at least two inches long.
That’s not an accident.
My breath leaves in a long, heavy exhale, fogging up the cold air. My fingers dig into my scalp as I tug at my hair in frustration.
“Fuck.”
I only have one spare. Which means I’m stranded unless I call someone. Which means blowing a huge chunk of the rapidly dwindling savings I’ve been living on, especially considering I’ll either need an after-hours mobile service or a tow. But if I don’t call, I won’t make it home, and I can’t do that to my family. I need to see them with my own eyes, to check in to make sure things are okay. Not just for them, for me.
I grab my phone and dial roadside assistance, pacing in slow, tight circles. When the automated hold music clicks on, I lean back against the trunk and try to breathe through the frustration rising like a tide in my throat.
I want to blame the tires themselves. They’re definitely old and worn and have needed replacing for longer than I’m willing to admit. But no amount of wishful thinking covers up a clean slit across the rubber.
My jaw clenches until it aches. Someone did this on purpose. But why?
Why the hell would someone do something like this? A prank is one thing, but this is a fucking crime. And it’s hateful. Who would do that?
Something moves between the trees on the far side of the parking lot. A tall silhouette. Broad shoulders. Narrow waist tapering down into long legs. The kind of build that might as well be carved into my memory at this point.
Lincoln Beckett.
He disappears into the dorm building like he doesn’t notice me. Like he isn’t the most obvious suspect in the world. He doesn’t look back. Doesn’t flinch. He just walks away as if he didn’t just leave me stranded on campus with two flat tires and a head full of fire.
My fists curl so tight my nails bite into my palms.
I’ve taken everything this team has thrown at me. I’ve laughed off every prank. I’ve ignored every sideways comment. I’ve given him his space, respected his boundaries, let him keep winning even when he’s treated me like some kind of plague.
But this…This is too far.
I’m done pretending none of it bothers me. I’m done letting him act like he can push me around until I snap. I’m done giving him the benefit of the doubt.
If he thinks I’m going to be the kind of man who rolls over and takes it forever, he’s got another thing coming.
And if he thinks cutting me down will make me walk away?
Beckett doesn’t know a damn thing about who he’s dealing with.
CHAPTER 7
BECK
The second I slip back into the athletic dorms, I’m grinning like a self-satisfied idiot.
I didn’t flatten Brody’s tires myself. Hell, it wasn’t even my idea. But I definitely didn’t stop it from happening. It was Pierce and his little band of cronies that are so desperate for my approval they keep coming up with new ways to torture Brody while I sit back and watch the show.
Thus far, nothing seems to get to that bastard. Not the locker room pranks, not seeing his underwear hung from the rafters of the student union like a goddamn victory flag, not even having to traipse across campus butt-ass naked—hell, he almost seemed to enjoy that.
The only thing that’s gotten to him in the slightest has been Pierce and his irritatingly persistent antics with the beer cans. I still don’t understand what’s up with that, but it’s the only thing that seems to get under Brody’s skin. Not that he shows it.
He tries to hide how much the beer jokes bother him, but I see it. The way his smile cracks for just a second before he glues it backin place. I hate myself for the pang of sympathy I get when I see it. How maybethatone actually hurt him.
Which is stupid. It’s none of my business. I don’t know why it keeps bothering me. I barely notice it, and it’s only because I’m watching so closely.
So I can watch him crack, obviously. Not for any other reason.
Watching him finally lose his shit, dragging his hands through his messy hair, pacing the parking lot like a caged animal? Now that’s a reaction.
I finally saw him break.
