Chapter 77: The Blood Stained Note

Aveline’s POV

I sat inside the cold car, staring through the glass. The bright lights made the wet blood on the hockey puck look dark and thick. It was dripping down the front window. My hands were shaking badly on the steering wheel. I could not sit here in the dark parking lot forever.

I pushed the car door open and stepped out into the night air. The wind hit my face. My body felt hot with panic. My heart was hammering fast against my ribs. I walked around to the front of the car. I reached out with a shaking hand, grabbed the piece of paper, and ripped the note off the glass window.

I held the white paper up to the light of the headlights. The words were written in big capital letters. The note read: “You missed the deadline, 'Asher.' Time to pay the price. Check your emails.”

A cold wave of fear washed over me. Silas and Barrett were not playing games anymore. They were done waiting for me. They were ready to destroy the name of Asher Carter. They would blow my entire disguise apart if I did not give them the app password right now. They knew I was hiding something from them.

I stuffed the paper into my jacket pocket and jumped back into the driver's seat. I slammed the door shut. I turned the key, hit the gas pedal, and drove home too fast. The dark trees blurred past my window as my mind spun in total chaos.

When I finally reached my house, I unlocked the front door and burst inside. I slammed the door shut behind me. I just wanted to run up the stairs to my room and hide. But before my foot could touch the first step, a slurred, tired voice called out from the dark living room.

"Is that you, Asher?" my mother, Evelyn, called out.

I stopped moving, freezing on the stairs. I turned around slowly and looked into the room

My mother was sitting on the couch. She held a glass of wine in her hand. Her eyes were blurry from drinking plenty of drinks to forget her sadness. She looked right at me, but she did not see me. She did not see Aveline, the daughter who was risking her life every day. She only saw the baggy boy clothes. She only saw the ghost of her dead son.

"No, Mom. It is me," I said, my voice tight and loud. "It is Aveline."

My mother stood up from the couch, dropping her wine glass onto the table. Her face went tight with anger. "Why are you talking like that, Asher? Why are you using that name? Stop playing these stupid games. The team needs you to be focused. You have to keep playing hockey."

"I am not Asher!" I screamed back at her, my voice echoing off the walls. "Asher is dead, Mom! I am your daughter! Look at me! I am right here in front of you!"

"Don't say that!" Evelyn shouted, her voice shaking with rage as she stepped closer to me. "Don't you dare say that name is gone! You look just like him. You wear his clothes. You play on his ice. You are Asher! If you are not him, then I have nothing left!"

"You have me!" I yelled, tears finally burning my eyes. "But you don't care about me! You never ask if I am okay! You never look at me and see your daughter! You only care about a ghost!"

"Shut up!" she screamed, covering her ears with her hands. "Just go to your room, Asher! I do not want to hear your lies tonight! Go away!"

The words hit my chest like a physical punch. It was too much to bear. My mother completely refused to acknowledge my real existence. She did not see my pain. She did not notice my bruised ribs from the game. She did not see how much I was suffering for this family. She still saw Asher instead of allowing me some love. She was so wrapped up in her own grief that she could not spare a single drop of comfort for her living daughter. I was completely alone in this dark house.

"Fine!" I snapped, my voice cracking with pure emotion.

I turned around, ran up the stairs as fast as I could, and rushed into my bedroom. I slammed my bedroom door shut with a loud, violent bang and threw my bag onto the floor and collapsed against the door. I slid down until I was sitting on the carpet.

The tears finally broke free. I buried my face in my hands and started crying loudly. My shoulders shook with heavy, painful sobs. I cried because my brother was gone forever. I cried because my mother could not love me anymore. And then, through the dark fog of my tears, the sudden memory of the basement garage hit my brain like lightning.

I remembered the kiss.

I pressed my fingers against my lips. They still felt hot and burning from his mouth. It was not a sweet, gentle, or romantic kiss. It was a violent collision of deep grief, raw fury, and toxic attraction. I had grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him down into the dark. I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to forget the pain. I wanted to feel something real. And Kieran had responded instantly. He lifted my body against the blue mats, holding me like he wanted to pull me into his very skin.

I cried harder, a fresh wave of shame hitting my stomach. I hated myself so much for letting him touch me. I was supposed to be avenging my brother's death. But instead, I was still completely in love with Asher's enemy. I was completely powerless against my own feelings for Kieran, and that felt like the biggest betrayal of all.