Chapter 47 Don't think it's free now baby
Tegan
The phone rang three times before he picked up. I gripped the device so hard my knuckles turned white, my breath coming in ragged, shallow hitches.
My skin felt too tight for my body, a cold sweat slicking my palms as I stared at Charlie. She was huddled on the velvet sofa, wrapped in a designer cashmere blanket.
Despite the floor-to-ceiling views of the glittering city skyline, the room felt like a gilded cage closing in on us.
Asking Hayes for help was a special kind of desperation. It was a reckless, glass-shattering idea. I should have called my father, the Dean would have listened to him. I should have called my mother. But calling them meant institutionalizing the problem.
It meant a paper trail, a scandal, and Charlie being shipped off to a rehab facility before the ink on the report even dried. I couldn't let her feel more guilty than she already was.
Hayes wasn't a resource; he was a catastrophe you unleashed on other catastrophes. He was the best option because he didn't care about the rules, and more importantly, he didn't care about the consequences.
“Hayes…” I whispered, the silence on the other end of the line stretching until it felt like a physical weight.
"What is it?" He finally groaned. His voice was thick with sleep and sharpened by a profound sense of annoyance, as if the mere vibration of my vocal cords was a personal affront to his peace. Yet, even through the speaker, that low timber sent a traitorous spark of heat crawling up my spine.
"You know I wouldn't call you if it wasn't important," I hissed.
I began to pace the expansive marble floor, my heels clicking a frantic rhythm.
“What. Is. It.” He grunted each word out like he was slamming a door in my face.
"Something happened….” I started, clearing my throat to swallow the sob. I prayed he couldn't hear the way my lungs were seizing.
I prayed he couldn't sense me vibrating with terror in this hollow, expensive apartment. Charlie gave me a trembling, unsure look from the sofa, managed to raise one thumb in a weak gesture of encouragement, then buried her face back in the wool.
“Charlie… she told me everything. About Ethan. About the rink. No one can find out, Hayes. Tessa Bloom will ruin her, If the board hears about the drugs or the accident, they’ll take her away. They’ll ruin everything.”
I was rambling, my words tripping over each other. I didn't even know if I was making sense.
There was a brief, sharp silence. When Hayes spoke again, the sleepy irritation was gone. It wasn't replaced by concern, that would have been too human for him. Instead, the playful lilt in his voice turned metallic and heavy, like a blade being unsheathed in the dark.
"Slow down, princess," he murmured. I could practically hear the sound of him leaning back in his own leather chair, probably nursing a drink despite the hour.
"You’re hyperventilating. It’s pathetic, really. All that fire you usually have, and one little gossip blog has you shaking?"
My blood boiled. "Is that all you heard? Tessa Bloom’s blog? Hayes, this isn't a joke! This is her life!”
“I know,” he said flatly. The nonchalance was a shield, one he used to remind me that while my world was ending, he was merely spectating.
“That ‘little gossip blog’ has turned the whole school into a madhouse. I’m the student body president, Hayes! I have to manage the fallout, and this involves my best friend. If the police get a tip about what happened at the rink—”
“Since you're the student body president, why don't you handle it yourself?” he interrupted, his tone bored.
“Why do you need the big bad guy to come clean up your dirty mess? Is it because you can't get those pretty hands stained? Is that it, Tegan? You need a monster to do the monster’s work so you can keep your crown straight?”
I froze, tears of frustration pricking my eyes. “What the fuck are you even saying? Charlie’s life is on the line. My reputation—my dad—"
"God, your pathetic whining is hurting my eardrums," he snapped, though even his anger felt lazy, like a lion swatting at a fly.
"Stop crying. It makes you sound weak, and I hate weak things. Though..." He paused, his voice dropping an octave, becoming a silken caress.
"I bet you look delicious when you're desperate. Flush in the cheeks, eyes all wet. Are you biting that bottom lip right now, Tegan?"
A wave of heat flooded my face, a sickening mix of fury and a desire I couldn't suppress even now. I hated that he could do this, mock me and make me want him in the same breath while my friend sat sobbing five feet away. I felt a deep, oily sense of shame for the way my heart skipped a beat at his filth.
“What exactly do you want?” I rasped, trying to steady my voice.
“You're the one who called” he tutted, pointing out the obvious.
“For help”
“Now, that’s exactly why you’re going to stop making that annoying sobbing sound and listen to me."
I stopped pacing. My heart was thudding a frantic, erratic rhythm against my ribs, but I forced my breathing to level out.
"What are you talking about?" I whispered.
"I’m saying you’re lucky I find you interesting," he said, his voice dropping into that maddening, slow crawl.
"You’re a disaster, Tegan. But you’re my disaster. Now calm the fuck down and explain this bullshit to me. From the beginning."
I took a deep, shuddering breath and told him. I told him about the pills Charlie had been taking to keep up with the pressure of her family's expectations. I told him about the argument with Ethan at the rink, the way Lino had stood by, and the moment of panicked clumsiness where Charlie had pushed Ethan. I told him how he’d fallen, how the blood looked on the ice, and how they’d fled like criminals.
When I finished, Hayes didn't gasp. He didn't sound shocked.
"Tessa Bloom is a flea," he said eventually. "And I don’t like fleas on my territory. I’ll handle it. The team is already moving.”
"How? Hayes, the rumors are already everywhere. How can you handle something like this?"
Deep down, a dark part of me knew he could. It was the same reason I’d called him. There was an insane, terrifying amount of trust I had in his capacity for corruption. He was the only person I knew who was more dangerous than the situation we were in.
"Don't worry your pretty, stressed-out little head about the how," he purred. I could almost feel the heat of his gaze through the phone, tracking the pulse in my neck.
"The Ice Kings will take the hit. By tomorrow morning, Charlie will be a ghost in this story. No one will remember she was even at the rink. And Tessa? Tessa will be too terrified to breathe your name, let alone Ethan’s."
I felt the air finally return to my lungs, but it was heavy, laden with a new, terrifying weight.
"You’d take the blame? The whole team would?" I asked in disbelief.
"Hayes, that would ruin the season. The fans, the scouts... you'd risk confirming the rumors just to bury Charlie's involvement?"
The Ice Kings were royalty. If they admitted to being at the rink, if they took the fall for the "accident," the media circus would be relentless. He was talking about sacrificing his reputation, his legacy.
"For the team? No," he corrected softly. The nonchalance dropped for a split second, revealing something jagged and predatory.
"For you, Tegan. I'm doing this for you. I want you to think about exactly how much I'm giving up for you every time you look in the mirror."
My breath hitched. He wasn't being a hero. He was marking his territory. The shame intensified, the fact that I found this sacrifice attractive, that his possessiveness made me feel safer than any law ever could, felt like a stain on my soul.
“Th… thank you,” I stuttered, my voice small and frail. It sounded more like a question.
He let out a dark, low chuckle. It wasn't a sound of comfort. It was the sound of a trap snapping shut.
“Don't think it's for free now, baby,” he said, his voice a silken threat.
The line went dead. I stood in the center of the marble foyer, the silent phone still pressed to my ear, realizing I had just traded one monster for another.
And the worst part? I was already anticipating what he was going to do next.