A Hockey Player's Guide To Deception

Chapter Seven

Trigger Warning: Violence, both physical and verbal abuse.

For the next few days, Kayla walked on eggshells around campus, dashing from one class to the next in hopes of avoiding those three bastards. She was always the first to leave every room, driven by this terrible gut-wrenching certainty that she wasn't safe. The awful feeling in her stomach told her they meant every word when they said they weren't done with her. Anxiety clawed at her daily, and most nights were spent tossing and turning in bed, scared that they might sneak up on her while she slept and attack her. Every time she glimpsed someone who remotely resembled one of the boys, her heart shot to her throat, and her body tensed. Her plan to blend in with the rest of the students had backfired spectacularly. Maybe Louis was right. Maybe she did need to put a leash on that smart mouth of hers. Because it seemed her sharp tongue would be the cause of her downfall. The beginning of the end for her. It didn't help that her body was sore from all the rigorous hockey training, they had their first official game in two weeks, so they trained every other day.

Hockey practice was the only place she found a sense of solace, even Louis could not take that away from her. She could feel his gaze burn into the side of her neck, but she ignored him. Her focus was fixed on proving herself to the rest of the team. Gliding effortlessly over the ice, she lost herself in the familiar rhythm of the drills. Most of the guys were starting to warm up to her. Although she cared little for Louis, she couldn't help but sense an underlying tension within the team. Louis was often abrasive, barely interacting with the rest of the team, let alone leading them. It baffled her. How could someone like him be captain? He had none of the qualities that should've earned him that title. Skill and talent might be critical to a team's success, but a good leader made all the difference. A captain's ability to communicate, to ensure cohesion, was essential. Nate had been different; charismatic, with a way of making every player feel like they mattered. Louis, in contrast, failed miserably at that. There were guys on the team that were more fit to perform his role than he was. The team members steered clear of him, and he did the same with them. 

Just as she was about to skate off the rink, her gaze caught a pair of dark soulless eyes staring at her from across the arena. She did a double take, her heart plummeting as she struggled to make sense of who she was seeing just a few feet away. Edward stood there, majestic, clad in full hockey gear. Her eyes widened, a mix of shock and confusion swirling in her chest. He simply shook his head, the faintest trace of amusement playing on his lips. Was her mind playing tricks on her? It had to be an illusion. She blinked a few times, half-expecting him to vanish. But no, he remained in the same spot, staring back at her. They had to be messing with her mind. She was certain she would've noticed him before now. There was no way she could have missed someone like him.

*

Kayla chewed on her lip nervously, shifting in her seat as the sharp edge of the ancient wooden chair dug into her. Her butt was killing her, and no amount of repositioning helped. She stared blankly at the front of the room while the teacher droned on in rapid-fire French, none of which she could make sense of. She was seriously starting to regret not paying attention during French class at her old school. But there was another reason she was on edge. Sitting directly behind her was Edward. She could hear the soft, rhythmic tapping of his shoes against the floor, a pattern that sent chills down her spine. It was the same rhythm she'd heard the day her head hit the bathroom tiles, like a haunting reminder of that moment. Each tap grated on her nerves, threatening to unravel her composure.

She clenched her fists in her lap, trying to focus, but the sound was relentless.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

It was driving her insane. Finally, she turned halfway in her seat and muttered under her breath, "Could you stop that?"

Edward, without looking up from his notebook, tilted his head slightly. "Stop what?"

"The tapping," she hissed, her voice low enough to avoid drawing attention from the teacher.

He glanced down at his foot as if just noticing it. 

"Hmm," he mused, a slight smirk forming on his lips. "I didn't realize it was bothering you."

Kayla's jaw clenched. "Yeah, well... it is."

Edward gave a nonchalant shrug and leaned back in his chair, letting the silence stretch between them before responding, "Noted."

But just as Kayla turned back to the front, the tapping resumed, quieter this time but unmistakably there. She bit her tongue and stared straight ahead, determined not to give him the satisfaction of another reaction.

"That will be all for today. Class is dismissed." 

Kayla's eyes flickered in surprised as they raised up to the grandpa clock on the ceiling, it was indeed the end of the two-hour tortuous session. Kayla let out a sigh of relief as she pushed back her chair and rushed out of the class, she had a history class right after this, on the other side of the west wing. Her steps hurried as she paced down the stairs, as she landed on the ground floor a hand seized her out of nowhere and another covered her mouth before she could scream. 

Before she knew it, she was being dragged through the halls, she tried struggling against them but every time she moved, their grip tightened even more. Her eyes wandered around the hallway, pleading for help, but none of the boys paid her any attention. It was as if this scene played out daily, like her struggle was nothing new. Her heart sank as her gaze landed on Ishaan. 

Their eyes met for a brief moment, Kayla's filled with desperation, his with guilt. He looked away. It was like she didn't exist, a ghost moving through the halls while her body fought to survive. Her legs felt weak, terror taking over as she realized no one was going to help her. Only Jesus could save her now.

The room they shoved her into was dimly lit, filled with old sofas and chairs strewn haphazardly. Many had broken legs or missing cushions, and the air was thick with dust and the staleness of neglect. Kayla's breath hitched as they continued to nudge her toward a large, looming wardrobe in the corner. Her eyes widened in panic, and she thrashed against their grip, but they were too strong. She tried to dig her heels into the floor, but it was no use.

They were going to lock her in that closet, the one that looked like it hadn't been opened in a hundred years.

"No, please!" she begged, her voice trembling, but her pleas fell on deaf ears. They lifted her effortlessly and tossed her inside the wooden box.

They ignored her, their grip tightening as she kicked her legs in a futile attempt to break free.

"Shut up," Louis muttered harshly, lifting her off the ground with ease.

"No!" Kayla screamed, panic flooding her as they carried her toward the wardrobe. 

"Please, I'll do anything, just don't put me in there!"

Her voice cracked, but they showed no mercy. Without hesitation, they tossed her into the wardrobe, her body hitting the hard wooden floor with a dull thud. Kayla gasped for air, trying to push herself up, but one of them kicked her back down.

"Stay down," he spat coldly, pushing her deeper into the cramped space.

Kayla groaned in pain, curling in on herself as the door slammed shut with a loud bang. Her breath came in ragged gasps as the sound of their footsteps faded into silence. The darkness was suffocating, and her voice shook as she whispered to herself.

"Someone... help."

But all that greeted her was the oppressive quiet. She closed her eyes, her energy spent and waited for whatever was coming next.

Kayla scrambled to get up, but a sharp kick in her stomach sent her crashing back down. She screeched in pain, curling into herself as she gasped for breath. Kayla continued to yell and thug at the handle, but it was locked. The sound of retreating footsteps and the door slamming shut with a deafening thud silenced her. She lay there, defeated and exhausted, her body aching from the struggle. With a heavy sigh, she closed her eyes, the darkness swallowing her whole.