Chapter 2 Masked Saviour

†CHARLOTTE†

I know she's always been a bitch.

I know she's always hated me.

But accusing me of ruining their relationship is going too far. Their relationship ruined me.

I remember the first time they fought and Jeffrey got all drunk and heartbroken. I was the one who picked him up from the bar. The second time they broke up and Jeffrey almost started failing his classes, I was the one who did every single assessment test and assignment. I was the one who brought him back to his feet. The third time they broke up, I was the one who held him in my arms until he fell asleep, losing sleep and almost missing my exams. And yet, now I'm the one who ruined their relationship?

What a fucking joke!

Anger surges beneath my skin.

"What the fuck does she mean, Jeffrey?" I ask.

He flinches at the use of his name. I've never done this before. Usually, I just call him Callahan, but never Jeffrey. It sounds too formal, too ordinary.

A beat passes, but he doesn't answer me. Instead, he turns to Ava.

"I've told you multiple times that there's nothing going on between us."

"Do you think I'm stupid, Jeff?" She lets me go, then shakes her head. "You knew she's been in love with you. You knew she's always wanted what we had, but you still kept her around. I told you to let her know how you felt, but what did you say? 'It's fine. She'll get over it.' But then what did you do after we broke up? You started fucking your best friend?"

He rushes towards her, but she puts some distance between them.

"I would never do that to you, Ava." He gestures to me with his hands. “ She's like a sister to me, I'd never see her that way.”

"But then you did it anyway."

His face falls, his voice growing smaller. "I was just scared, I thought I was losing you. You know you started going out, getting drunk, dating other guys. I thought you'd moved on."

It's not making sense.

Nothing is making sense.

Jeffrey knew.

He knew I loved him.

And yet, he asked me to do all this.

"Jeffrey." I call out, my voice almost unrecognisable.

He turns to me, and this time, I meet his gaze.

"You knew?"

He opens his mouth, closes it, then opens it again.

"I... I..." He tries to reach for me, but I step out of his grasp, looking away so he doesn't see the tears threatening to roll down my face.

"He knew from the very first month we started dating," Ava answers, then hisses. "He probably knew long before that."

"You knew..." My voice falters. "And yet, you did all this. You used me."

"No, I didn't use you. I—I..."

"You what? You just found me conveniently available or what, you just thought why don't I just keep her around to make her feel better?"

Camera flashes surround us, but I'm too emotionally distraught to care. By tomorrow morning, this will probably be all over our campus platforms, and I'll probably be the laughingstock.

The stupid girl who sacrificed everything for a guy who wanted nothing to do with her.

"I'm sorry. I just didn't know how to tell you. I didn't want to ruin our friendship. I—"

"Enough of the fucking bullshit!" Ava snaps, crossing her arms again. "You make your choice, babe," she says, her eyes flicking between Jeffrey and me. "You either come with me, or you go with her."

Jeffrey turns to me, then to her, with pleading eyes he faces me again, and I know the choice has already been made.

He's choosing her.

Not me—never me.

"Char... Can we talk about this later? Please understand, I didn't mean to—"

"It's fine. Don't bother."

I grab my purse and storm out of the bar, leaving them there.

Once I'm outside, the cool air hits me, and that's when I realise I'm crying. A choked sob slips from my lips, my chest tightening with each breath as the scene plays over and over and over again.

Jeffrey knew.

He knew.

Jeffrey knew.

He knew.

I'm walking with no direction in mind. My phone buzzes repeatedly with notifications and texts, but I don't bother to check them because I know what'll happen if I do. I know it'll ruin me if I do.

The air grows colder, and a purple-coloured sheen coats the dark clouds. The wind slaps harder, eliciting goosebumps across my skin. Purple lightning cuts through the sky, making my stomach churn.

It's probably the alcohol.

No, it's definitely the alcohol.

I fold my arms over my chest, rubbing my sides as my eyes search around for shelter, but everything's closed.

Then I hear it.

Footsteps.

They're slow at first, but then they start getting faster and louder, an indication that the people behind me are getting closer.

I don't wait. I don't look back. I run, my heart pounding in my chest.

The sound of heavy breathing echoes from behind me. Hesitantly, I sneak a look over my shoulder.

Three masked men trail behind me.

One pulls out a dagger and throws it right at me. Panic licks over my skin as I look away. The metal whistles through the air, grazing my cheek just enough to draw blood, but I don't stop. I quicken my pace, but my legs fail to move fast enough.

As though the entire night is against me, I trip over my own feet, my face crashing into the ground, dust rushing into my lungs.

The men are on me in seconds, their body weight pinning me roughly against the floor.

"Let me go! Let me go!" I scream, but the sound of rain pattering against the metal rooftops drowns out my cries.

Two of them hold me down by my arms while another hovers over me, caging me between his thighs. The dark gleam in his eyes brightening when they settle on my cleavage.

The voice in my head is silent. No sarcastic comment, no insult, nothing. Just silence.

And Jesus Christ, it's deafening.

The one in the middle unsheathes his blade, dragging the metal in a painfully slow motion over the curve of my breasts.

Another kind of cold runs down my spine.

"I must say, you're incredibly sexy."

The one on my left chuckles, rolling his tongue over his lips.

"Let's have a little fun before we take her to Master," he suggests, the desire in his eyes making me shudder.

I try to pull my arms away from their grasp, but they pin me down. The one in the middle slaps me twice. My ears ring, and tears run down my face.

"Someone, anybody, please. Help me. Please!" My voice breaks, but it only seems to anger them more.

"Weak little fuck!" the one in the middle curses, ripping the bodice of my dress completely and leaving me bare.

I struggle. I scream, but nothing comes out.

In one night, Jeffrey used me, and now I'm about to be used again. And this time, I can't run away. This time, no one will save me.

Metal clinks, and I hear the rustling of clothes.

I close my eyes, clenching my fists, a part of me wishing that maybe Jeffrey would come, that maybe he'd save me.

But I know he's long gone.

As I await my impending doom, cold air kisses my skin, and the crushing weight lifts in an instant.

His scent hits me first: misty, earthy, and mixed with lavender.

The scent makes something burn within my chest.

Something old, ancient, sparks beneath my skin, a certain feeling surging through my body and leaving a fiery sensation in its wake.

Only one person can make me feel this way.

And that person is Tobias Knight.

The captain of the Black Wolves.

And worse of all, Jeffrey's rival.

"Mate."

The voice in my head says it, but this time, it sounds different. Lighter, almost feminine.

I don't understand what she means.

He looks different. The redness in his eyes is unlike anything I've ever seen. His face is completely covered by a red neon mask. Veins line his forearms as the man who once loomed over me trembles in his grip.

The other two men rush towards him, and with his other free hand, he twirls a bat and slams it against their heads in one smooth swing.

A cracking sound echoes as their skulls bash against a wall.

There's blood.

So much blood.

But it doesn't terrify me as much as the man standing before me.

Tobias slams the guy's back against the wall, squeezing his neck even harder until the man's face grows pale and his eyes burn red.

The man's eyes close, and Tobias tosses his body to the ground.

Two men wearing neon masks carry the bodies away, avoiding me with their eyes.

That's when it hits me. I quickly cover my chest, sniffling as the monster turns to me, the darkness in his eyes slightly dimmed but still carrying the same danger.

He says nothing. His eyes are everywhere but on me as he pulls off his jacket and hands it to me.

My hand trembles as I reach for it, throwing it over my body.

That's when he finally looks at me.

The voice in my head purrs, the sound making this uncomfortable feeling simmer beneath my skin.

Mate, it says again.

He takes a step closer, and I unintentionally shift back.

"What do you want from me?" I ask.

He doesn't answer immediately, the silence making my nails dig into the leather.

"What do you want from me?" I repeat, sounding stronger than I feel.

"To take care of you," he says, his tone soft, as though he didn't just annihilate three men in front of me.

A ball of saliva drops down my throat as he leans closer, and for some reason, I don't move.

He lifts me off the ground— one hand at the small of my back, the other behind my knees— bridal style. My hand wraps around his neck for stability.

My nose brushes his skin from our proximity, his scent rushing through my lungs relaxing the tension wounding tight in my chest.

He walks to the car and places me on the car seat and buckles the seat belt. His movements are gentle but precise as he walks around the car to the driver's seat and sits down.

He draws a breath, running his fingers through his brown sea of hair. "I know you have questions," he says, and he's right. I do have a lot of questions, but I don't know where to start.

Why did he save me?

What's with the mask and stuff?

Is he used to killing like that?

Does he know who I am?

These questions roam in my head, but I can't bring myself to say them. Exhaustion weighs against my bones, and I genuinely want to go to bed, to not think. To not be here right now.

When he realises I'm not speaking, he sighs again, starts the car, and drives off.

The hum of the car's engine and the crunching sound of tyres against asphalt occasionally break the silence that rests in the car. Slowly, I turn to him—really take him in.

I see the way the veins run down his forearms, the whiteness that colours his knuckles as he turns the wheel. The mask still rests on his face, but I wonder if he knows that I know it's him.

I wonder why I know.

Probably because of the number of games I've attended.

He plays for the Black Wolves of Kingston University, and I've seen him on the ice against Jeffrey multiple times. I've seen the way he moves, the way he recovers, and honestly, I've always been curious about him. Mainly because he's never had an injury last longer than a day. Regardless of how serious it is, it never lasts. Jeffrey believes he's on pills; I believe it's something else. But I don't let that thought linger.

My mind goes back to the events, the memories playing in my head again. The men, the blood, Tobias.

"Who were those men?"

As far as I know, I haven't offended anyone. Well, except Ava, but she wouldn't send men after me, right? Right?

He shoots me a glance, then turns back to the road. "It's complicated."

"Nothing can be more complicated than what just happened!" My fingers shake as I run them through my hair, gripping the strands tightly. It's a habit I've picked up to cope with the stress. "What did those men mean by 'master'? And what does that master want to do with me?"

"I don't know, genuinely."

So many questions linger at the tip of my tongue, but I shove them down when the car comes to a stop.

"I know who you are..." I say.

His eyes flick to me, then he looks away.

"Go home, Charlotte."

That's when I look around. I'm outside my apartment. How did I get here? And, worse of all, how does he know my address?