Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
He’s turned it on himself.
“Nathan!” I shout, but it’s too late. He squeezes the trigger just as I crash into him, my body slamming into his with every ounce of my strength.
The gun goes off, the sound splitting the air.
We hit the ice hard before sliding across the smooth surface. The gun flies out of his hand and spins away. My ears ring as my breath comes out in short, sharp gasps.
Ava screams my name, but it’s distant, muffled. Almost as if I’m underwater.
“Get your phone!” I yell, my voice hoarse as I push myself up. My hands shake as adrenaline rushes through me. “And call the police!”
Ava’s frozen for a second, her face leeched of all color, but then she snaps into action, rushing toward her bag at the edge of the rink.
I refocus my attention on Nathan. He’s lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling as blood pools beneath him from a wound in his shoulder. His chest heaves with ragged breaths, and his eyes are wide, unfocused.
“You…” Nathan’s voice is barely audible now, broken and full of pain. “You’ll never love her the way I do.”
My hands shake as I press down on the wound and try to stem the bleeding. I glance over my shoulder to see Ava is talking on the phone. It would be impossible not to notice the way her body trembles. From the corner of my eye, I see Coach rush from the locker room and onto the ice. It doesn’t take long before he has her wrapped up in his arms. Our gazes lock for one moment as he turns her away, shielding her from the view.
Nathan’s breath rattles, his eyes still fixed on the ceiling. “I loved her,” he whispers, voice fading. “I made her what she is.”
I don’t bother with a response.
There’s nothing left to say.
Police and EMTs burst through the doors with a flurry of activity as I press harder on his wound, trying to keep him alive. I have no idea if he’ll make it. After everything this man has done, I honestly don’t know if he deserves to.
But one thing is clear—he’ll never hurt Ava again.
Not ever.
38
Ava
The harsh fluorescent lights of the police station make everything feel surreal, like I’m watching my own life unfold from the outside. It’s a peculiar sensation. I sit in the small, stiff chair, with my parents on either side of me. Their hands clasp mine, offering silent support. My body still hums with nervous energy, but my mind feels distant.
Numb.
I still can’t believe this happened.
That Nathan would—
The officer sitting across from us closes his notebook, his expression remaining neutral.
“We’ll be in contact if we have any further questions,” he says. “Nathan is at the hospital. The guy is lucky to be alive.”
“What happens now?” my dad asks, his voice low and steady, but I can hear the tension fighting to break through.
“A psych evaluation, for starters,” the officer replies. “And then, depending on the results, he’ll be charged. Stalking, assault, illegal possession of a firearm. He’s not walking away from this.”
His words should have relief flooding through me that it’s finally over, but instead, all I feel is exhaustion, a bone-deep tiredness that makes it hard to think, hard to breathe. I just want to go home and pretend this nightmare never happened.
It’s almost difficult to believe there was ever a time when I thanked my lucky stars that Nathan Covington found me, saw something in me that I didn’t realize was there, plucking me from obscurity.
Now the opposite is true.
“Thank you, Officer,” my mom says softly, squeezing my hand. I nod, my eyes fixed on the door, only wanting to get the hell out of here. I want to fall face-first into bed and sleep for days. Long enough to forget about the terror pumping through my veins when he’d pointed that gun at me. I never believed it when people said their lives flashed before their eyes, but that’s exactly what happened.
We stand to leave, and I follow my parents out of the room. I appreciate their comforting presence now more than ever. As we walk into the lobby, my heart stutters in my chest when I catch sight of Hayes. I wasn’t sure if he would take off after the police were done talking to him.
He jumps to his feet the moment he sees us, his face a mix of relief and something else.
Guilt, maybe?
My pulse quickens, and it takes everything I have inside not to run to him. To throw myself into his arms and forget about everything that happened.
But I don’t.
I can’t.
We’re not together.
Maybe we were never really together.
That thought cuts as deep as a knife.
Hayes shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans as his gaze searches mine. “Do you have a moment to talk?”