Chapter 182 : He Followed Me .

Chapter 182 : He Followed Me .


HAYDEN’S POV:

My boots felt heavy as I walked across the turf, every pair of eyes on the team drilling into my back.

Stephen fell into step right beside me, his jaw set in a hard, rigid line. Coach Vance didn't say a single word to us.

He just turned on his heel and marched toward the main administrative building, his shoulders tense.

We followed him through the glass doors, down the quiet hallway, and straight into the large conference room at the end of the hall.

When I stepped inside, the air felt thick enough to choke on. This wasn't just a regular meeting with the coach. Sitting around the long table were the Athletic Chairman, the camp’s legal counsel, and two high-ranking members of the disciplinary board.

And there, sitting in a chair at the far end of the room, was Ryan.

He looked even worse under the harsh fluorescent lights. His skin was pasty, and his fingers were constantly twitching against his knees.

He looked up when Stephen and I walked in, a flash of pure, desperate hatred crossing his face before he quickly looked down at the table.

"Sit," Coach Vance ordered, pointing to the two empty chairs opposite Ryan.

Stephen and I sat down. I leaned back, crossing my arms, keeping my expression completely blank.

I wanted to look like stone. I wanted Ryan to see that he couldn't get under my skin anymore.

The Athletic Chairman, a stern man named Mr. Harrison, cleared his throat and tapped the thick manila folder resting in front of him.

"Ryan," Mr. Harrison began, his voice cutting through the silence like a knife. "We are here today to address an incredibly serious violation of the camp’s code of conduct, as well as potential criminal behavior. Yesterday morning, we received a formal internal review containing massive digital evidence against you."

Ryan swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "Sir, I don't know what this is about. The Varsity article is a lie. It’s a smear campaign to ruin my reputation before the draft."

"Shut up and listen," Coach Vance snapped from the corner of the room.

Mr. Harrison opened the folder. He pulled out several printed documents and slid them across the glossy table. They landed right in front of Ryan.

"These are bank statements and digital IP logs," Mr. Harrison said, leaning forward. "An explicit video involving Hayden and Stephen was leaked to a prominent adult site and an offshore gossip blog three weeks ago. The digital forensics team traced the upload back to an encrypted IP address. However, that encryption was cracked. The upload originated from a device registered to your student ID on the campus Wi-Fi network."

Ryan stared at the papers, his eyes darting across the lines of text. "That’s a mistake. Anyone could have spoofed my ID or used my laptop while I was out of the room. The locker room is always unlocked during practice. I’m being framed."

"Are you being framed for this too?" the camp lawyer asked, sliding another piece of paper forward.

It was a bank wire transfer receipt.

"This is an offshore account registered in your name, Ryan," the lawyer continued, his voice cold and aggressive. "On the exact night the video went live, a deposit of fifteen thousand dollars was made into this account. The source of the funds is a shell company directly tied to the media broker who distributed the tape. Fifteen grand. Do you deny owning this account?"

Ryan’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. The smug, arrogant guy who used to run his mouth in the locker room was completely gone. He was drowning, and he knew it.

"I... I can explain that," Ryan stammered, his voice cracking. "That money was a personal loan. From a family friend. It has nothing to do with the athletic department or the team."

"A family friend who runs an adult media blog?" Mr. Harrison asked, raising an eyebrow. "Do you think we are stupid, son? The timeline matches perfectly. The digital footprint matches perfectly. You sold out your own teammates. You violated federal privacy laws, and you compromised the integrity of this entire athletic program."

"I didn't do it!" Ryan suddenly shouted, slamming his hands on the table. He stood up, his chest heaving as he looked at the board members. "You can't prove anything! This is all circumstantial! Hayden and Stephen have a grudge against me because I'm competing with them for the starting spot and the scouts' attention! They set me up!"

I sat there silently, watching the spectacular meltdown. I didn't say a word. I didn't need to. The trap was already locked shut around his neck.

"Sit down, Ryan," Mr. Harrison commanded. His voice wasn't loud, but it carried a dangerous weight that made Ryan drop back into his chair like a scolded dog.

"The evidence is absolute," Mr. Harrison continued, looking at Ryan with pure disgust. "We have the IP logs, the financial paper trail, and a signed statement from the broker confirming your digital identity. You took fifteen thousand dollars to ruin the lives and careers of two young men on this team."

Ryan looked around the room, looking for any sign of mercy. He looked at Coach Vance, but the old man just stared at the floor, shaking his head in disappointment.

Finally, Ryan's gaze landed on me. His eyes were wide, bloodshot, and frantic.

"Hayden, please," Ryan whispered, the anger completely draining out of him, replaced by a pathetic, begging tone. "Tell them. We've been playing together for weeks. You know I wouldn't do this. Speak up, man."

I met his gaze, my eyes dead and cold. I stayed silent, letting the heavy, suffocating quiet of the room answer for me.

There was no mercy left in me for a rat.

Ryan’s face completely crumbled. The digital proof was staring him in the face, and he finally cracked.

He buried his face in his shaking hands, a low, defeated groan escaping his throat as the reality of his destruction finally set in.