If You Dare: A Hockey Bully Romance
If You Dare: Chapter 31

Violet

I’m writing in the library with my back to the door when it squeaks open behind me. I spin around, smile already wide across my face knowing it’s Wes.

But the footsteps aren’t familiar. Not his combat boots and heavy gait.

No, the Devil who approaches has a lighter step. More stealth. More sinister.

Trey grins and sits beside me, hands clasped together on the table. My stomach drops like lead, the chill of panic enveloping me.

I start to stand, but he’s too quick—his heavy hand comes down on my shoulder and forces me back into my seat, pain lancing down my arm and into my neck as my ass smacks back down. “Where you going, beautiful? I just got here.”

A tight knot coils in my gut, but I keep my chin high. I won’t let Trey get off on my fear anymore. “You need to leave me alone. Wes will kill you if he replaces you here alone with me.”

Trey’s twisted smile makes bile rise to my throat. “I’d like to see him try.”

When his palm lands on my leg, I throw it off. “Don’t touch me,” I hiss.

Trey tsks. “Remember, pretty girl? You’re going to let me touch you. Anywhere I want. Or my knife will.”

“Don’t,” I plead, the marks he left on my stomach still scabbed and healing.

But his hand is already back on my knee, traveling up my thigh.

His touch feels like slimy bugs crawling up my skin. All I want is to push him off, run out of the room, but I know he’ll be too fast. He’ll catch me then stab me or cut me.

Trey’s hand drifts up my skirt and reaches my panties. Tears spring to my eyes.

“Stop.” And even though it comes out in a whisper, I know he can hear me. But he ignores my plea.

He stands abruptly, his chair squealing against the floor, and shoves mine back. I yelp, and he pries my thighs apart, positioning himself between them from where he kneels in front of me.

The same position he was in the last time we were in the library together. Right before Wes grabbed me and pulled me away, preventing Trey from getting his mouth on me.

His tongue licks slowly up from my knee to the edge of my panties. I want to shove at him, kick him, but I don’t dare with that knife in his pocket.

When his nose brushes against the apex of my thighs, he sniffs audibly. I cringe. “Mmm.” His hot breath hits my panties, and I want to shrivel. “I hope you taste as good as you smell.”

I nearly heave as he repeats the motion on my other leg, leaving a trail of saliva in his wake. Marking me.

His thumb drifts up between my legs, rubbing against my sensitive nub, and I cry out when his mouth latches on my thigh. Sucking like he intends to bruise my whole body.

“Trey, stop!” I yell.

“Not until I replace out how wet you are for me.”

That’s when the door behind me swings open.

Wes

Trey’s got his head under Violet’s skirt.

He’s groping her, feeling her up. And she’s letting him.

“See?” Luke mutters. “She’s just fucking with your head.”

Luke is right. Trey was right. This whole thing has just been a mind game to her. She got in my pants, weaseled her way into my heart, all so I’d call off the revenge plot.

Her head whips around, eyes wide when she spots me. Just like Britt, all over again. “Wes—”

I’ve got Trey off her and on the floor before either of them can say another word.

Rage blinds me, sending my fists flying into Trey’s head and the floor beneath him before finally connecting with his nose. Bone crunches under my fist, and fuck, it hurts so good. No sweeter feeling than the snap of your enemy’s bone and cartilage. He roars in pain like the little bitch he is.

“I told you to fucking stay away from her!” My spit sprays his face.

Luke tugs at my shoulders. Little more than a fly. “Wes! Come on, man! Stop!”

My fists connect with Trey’s chest, his eye. A maniacal laugh swells at the image of Trey with a black eye tomorrow to match his bruised nose, and maybe I’ll gift him a limp too.

“Think about the team, Novak!”

Right. We need Trey alive for the team.

I let Luke pull me off him.

That’s all that matters now. All that should’ve mattered to me after Violet killed my sister.

My priorities got fucked in this mess. What I need is to focus on hockey, getting drafted, and escaping this hellhole. Getting as far away from Violet fucking Harris as I can.

She hovers near the door, shaking and wide-eyed like I haven’t seen her in weeks. Her hands clutched tight around her chest, skirt still askew. My teeth grind together.

This time, Luke doesn’t hold me back. He crouches beside a groaning Trey while I stalk toward Violet.

When she cowers, I salivate. I’ve missed her fear. “You’ve been fucking around behind my back?”

She shakes her head quickly, eyes growing comically wider. “No! I swear. He threatened me—”

“Yeah? Did he threaten you when you blew him too?”

Her face falls. She’s at a loss for words.

“Yeah. I fucking know,” I snarl. “How many of my teammates did you blow behind the library? Or is Trey just special?”

Nausea churns in my gut like a tornado. This is fucking happening again. Wasn’t enough when I caught my ex cheating on me. Wasn’t enough when Violet killed my sister. I still convinced myself I could trust her. That she deserved a second chance.

Still haven’t learned my fucking lesson.

“I didn’t!” she wails.

More fucking lies.

I punch the wall beside her head, knuckles coming back bloody, but the pain doesn’t register. Hard to feel more pain when you’re already drowning in it. “I saw the pictures, Violet! You in your underwear, posing for him.” I grit my teeth and hiss, “On your fucking knees in front of him.”

Tears flood her eyes now. “He made me do that! He put a knife to my throat, Wes. He has a knife on him now!”

I whirl on Trey, still flat on the floor groaning and clutching his bloody nose.

“Fuck you, man!” he spits.

I ignore him and pat him down, searching his pockets for the knife. When I can’t replace anything, I instruct Luke to search him.

“I don’t have a fucking knife,” he snaps. “Your little bitch is a liar. She wanted my mouth on her pussy. She was begging for my cock.”

Violet shakes her head vehemently, eyes wide. “He said he had one. He’s threatened me with a knife before. I just assumed—”

“Explain the photos then. Why didn’t you tell me after he took them? Why would you hide that from me?”

She steps toward me, face red and features scrunched up as she tries to reign in her tears. “He said if I told anyone, he’d kill you. Please, Wes. You know me. You can trust me.”

That’s exactly what Britt said after I found her riding some other guy’s cock.

What would I have walked in on if Luke and I showed up a minute later? Trey’s dick inside Violet while she moaned, begging him to choke her and call her a good girl? “Tell me, who’s tongue feels better on your pussy? Mine or his?”

She’s full-on sobbing now, reaching for me. I step back. The thought of her touch makes me want to set myself on fire. “Please, Wes. Please believe me. I didn’t want to do any of those things. I would never hurt you like that.”

I shake my head. A different sort of fury coiling in my stomach this time. Not the roaring, raging tiger but the hissing, poisonous viper. “I can’t believe I let myself trust you again. You killed my fucking sister, and I forgave you for that. I forgave you for the worst thing anyone’s ever done to me because I’m the biggest fucking moron on the planet. Why did I think putting trust in someone like you would work out?”

Disbelief and disappointment settle into her features, but she meets my gaze. “I will apologize every single day for what I did. A hundred times a day. But until you’re ready to forgive me, you’ll never believe it. You’ll never trust me.”

I loom over her, cupping her chin and forcing her to look up at me. One last time. That solid concrete wall I erected after she killed Chloe is back up. Slammed down between us, and impenetrable this time. “Don’t let me see your fucking face again. Because I can promise you, you won’t like what happens if I do. As far as I’m concerned, the Violet I knew died the same night as my sister.” I release her, knowing I’ll never touch her again. She knows it too. “You’re dead to me.”