Chapter 158 HARPER

Chapter 158 HARPER
"I want to see Samuel Jenkins," I said to the duty officer sitting behind the front desk.

He looked up at me over his glasses, took in the fact that I was a teenage girl standing alone in a police station on Valentine's Day morning, and reached for his pen without much expression. "Relation to the detainee?"

"He's my cousin."

He wrote something down, asked for my name, made a call, and ten minutes later I was being led through a door and into a visitation room that smelled like floor cleaner and bad decisions.

Sam was already there when I walked in.

He leaned back in his chair and the moment he saw me, a slow smirk spread across his face.

"Well." He tilted his head. "I must have misread you, cuz. Coming here this soon after everything." He clicked his tongue. "You've got guts, I'll give you that."

"I'm here on business," I said, pulling out the chair across from him and sitting down. I placed the tablet on the table between us and hit play on the clip I'd pulled up the night before.

Sam glanced at the screen. Then he laughed, a short, unbothered sound. "Did you come here to humour me or what?"

"Who paid you," I said.

He looked up from the screen, eyes bright with amusement. "I'm sorry?"

"You weren't going for the puck," I said. "You weren't even trying to play the game. You went straight for Tyler. So I'm asking you, who paid you to do it."

Sam stared at me for a long moment and then leaned forward, folding his arms on the table. "Nobody paid me anything," he said. "I don't need a fee to knock out a cocky bastard like Tyler Mercer."

Something shifted in his expression. "What's sad is that his own teammate thought they had to pay a fee to get the job done when all they had to do was just ask."

The room went very quiet.

My chest turned cold. "Which teammate?"

Sam grinned and leaned back again. "Now why would I tell you that?"

"Because if you do," I said, keeping my voice level, "I will do everything I can to help reduce your sentence."

He considered it for a moment, then he shook his head with a low laugh.

"I think I'd rather watch you figure it out yourself," he said. "Walking around looking over your shoulder, wondering who they're going to pay to take your boyfriend out next time." He paused, letting it land. "Oh wait. Tyler's not even going to be on the ice at the finals. They're already out."

I glared at him for one more second, before I picked up the tablet, pushed back my chair and left.

Mark was parked right outside, engine still running. He looked up when I got in. "How did it go?"

"He admitted it," I said, pulling the door shut. "But he won't give us the name. We're going to have to figure it out ourselves."

Mark frowned, pulling out of the lot. "It doesn't make sense though. Why would anyone go after Tyler at this level? It's not like we're playing professionally."

"The only reason you take out your best player is if his absence gives you something you didn't have before," I said. "If it was Sam acting alone I'd assume he just did it to give Westbrook a better shot. But since one of our own teammates hired him, whoever it was knew exactly what they'd gain."

Mark was quiet for a moment. "So who has the most to gain from Tyler being off the ice?"

The answer came to me so suddenly, my eyes widened as the realization settled in fully. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Mark glanced at me. "What?"

"Just drive. I'll explain on the way."

Tyler was already outside when we pulled into his driveway, like he'd been watching for us. He came toward the car shaking his head. "This doesn't make any sense. How could it have been a setup—” he said, as I stepped out.

"I’m not exactly sure yet,” I cut in quickly. “But it tracks."

I was still explaining when I saw his eyes shift past my shoulder. I turned around.

Peter was pulling up behind us.

He climbed out of his car and looked between the three of us with an easy grin. "Nobody told me there was a secret meeting happening. Do I get an agenda or are we doing this freestyle?"

"Peter," I started carefully. "I'm not accusing you of anything, but did you—"

Mark moved before I could finish the sentence.

The punch landed clean and Peter stumbled back against his car, hand flying to his jaw.

"How could you," Mark seethed, his voice shaking. "You took out the best player on the team. Your own best friend. All for what? Are you happy now that we're out? Is that what you wanted?"

"What's going on?" Tyler said from behind me, his voice laced with confusion.

I didn't answer. I couldn't move.

Peter straightened slowly, dropping his hand from his face. He didn't look angry. He looked like someone who had been waiting for this for a long time.

"I can explain," he said.

My stomach dropped at those three words.

He looked at Tyler and whatever was on his face in that moment made the whole thing unbearably real. "I swear I didn't mean to harm you this badly," he said. "I only wanted a chance to shine. Being second center meant nothing because coach couldn't see anyone else when you were on the ice. You outshone everyone without even trying and the rest of us just disappeared."

Tyler laughed, the sound quiet and disbelieving. "Tell me this is some kind of joke."

Peter's jaw tightened. "It's not."

I stood between them and said nothing. My heart was breaking for Tyler and I hadn't even looked at him yet because I was afraid of what his face would show.

"You're my best friend. You knew what hockey meant to me." Tyler's voice came out low and controlled in a way that was somehow worse than shouting. "How could you?"

"I know you don't understand what it's like to live in someone else's shadow." Peter's voice cracked slightly. "I got carried away. It's why I couldn't bring myself to visit you at the hospital. I didn't know the injury would keep you off the ice all season." He pressed his lips together, eyes glassy. "I've been trying to make up for it ever since."

"I don't know what it's like?” Tyler asked. “What about the rest of the team? Mark. Jax. Kane. Why weren't they paying someone to take me out?"

"Because after you," Peter cut in, "I'm considered the most talented. After you, Tyler. It's always after you." His voice rose slightly. "You have everything. The money, the nice family, the spotlight, the girl who actually shows up for you. And what do the rest of us get? I work just as hard as you do. Every single practice, every drill, just as hard. And still it's always your name."

"Some people are just better at certain things," Mark spoke up quietly. "That doesn't make everyone else less."

"Then why does it always feel that way?" Peter snapped.

"Get out,” Tyler warned, his voice dropping to something low and dangerous. "Before I do something I'll regret."

"I'm not leaving." Peter shook his head. "I made a mistake and I own it. I know you deserve everything you've worked for. I let jealousy get the best of me and I've regretted it every single day because you're my best friend—”

“Was,” Tyler corrected.

“Fine. Maybe to you. But I see you as a brother not just as a teammate. Hit me if you want. I'll take it."

Tyler scoffed. "You only say that because you got caught."

"Then let me prove it. Tell me what to do. I swear I'll do anything to correct this.”

Nobody spoke.

"Anything?" I finally cut in.

Peter looked at me. "Yeah. Anything."

Tyler started to object but I spoke first, holding up my phone. "I recorded everything that just happened here," I said, holding up my phone. "If you go to Coach and confess, all of it, including Sam and how you set it up, there's a chance they review that hit properly. And if they do, Westbrook could get disqualified for it. If that happens, Westfield takes their spot in the finals.”

The silence that followed felt like it had weight.

Peter looked at Tyler. Then he nodded. "Consider it done."

"We're going right now." Mark was already reaching for his phone. "I'm calling coach on the way."

"I'll go myself," Peter muttered.

"You'll go with me watching,” Mark said, leaving no room for argument.

Peter didn't push back. He looked at Tyler one last time and then got in his car. Mark glanced at me before following.

I stood watching both cars pull out of the driveway, when suddenly Tyler's arms came around me from behind and he pulled me into him and held on. I felt the slight shake in his breathing before he even spoke.

"I don't know what I'd do without you," he murmured into my hair.

"Probably a lot of things," I replied.

He chuckled, and pulled back to look at me. Then he kissed me, and when he pulled away he was almost smiling. "If sulking and losing my temper counts, then maybe."

I laughed. "Valentine's Day did turn out to be more interesting than I expected."

He opened his mouth and I immediately braced for an apology.

“No," I cut in quickly. "Don't. You just found out your best friend set you up, your team lost, it's been a lot. You're handling it better than I expected."

He looked at me for a moment. "I was actually going to say I have a surprise for you."

I blinked.

"Everything else can wait," he continued. "Right now I just want to spend the rest of the day with you."

"You're in luck then," I told him, my tone teasing. “Because I happen to have a free schedule.”

He smiled and stepped behind me, covering my eyes with his hand. "Good."

He guided me forward and I tracked the steps automatically, feeling us move through the front door, up one staircase, then another, more steps than I expected, and my pulse picked up with every one.

"Tyler," I said slowly.

"Almost there."

"If this is what I think it is—"

"I genuinely don't know if that's a good thing or not. But..." He lifted his hands.

We were on the rooftop.

But it wasn't the rooftop I remembered. There was a table set for two with candles already lit and fairy lights strung along the railings. Before I could take it all in, Tyler picked up a remote from the table and pressed it. A transparent dome rose up around us, panels sliding into place overhead until it sealed completely. The door clicked shut behind me, music started playing, and the lighting shifted into a soft blue glow. A projector hummed to life and a screen rose from it, already playing, and I recognized it immediately. Recent photos of us. Moments I hadn't even known were being captured.

"How," I breathed.

"After our last date up here, my mom fed my dad the idea of what a rooftop cinema could do for a space like this." Tyler came to stand beside me. "My dad being an engineer went straight to work."

He reached behind him and held out a frame.

I took it.

It was a photograph of us dancing at Mark's mom's Christmas dinner. His hand on my waist, my face tilted up toward his, both of us caught in a moment neither of us had known existed.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Harper."

I didn't say anything back. I just kissed him, and when the tears came I didn't try to stop them.