18. Cooper

18

Cooper

I followed Everly down the stairs, my footsteps heavy and uncertain. She moved with purpose, pulling out coffee grounds and filters, her hands steady and sure. I stood by the doorway, my heart hammering in my chest, unable to tear my eyes away from her. Why was she being so nice to me?

When I saw her in the shower earlier, she had looked so small, so helpless. The need to touch her, to comfort her, had been overwhelming. Now, though, she seemed ready to take on the world.

And what she said to me?

I couldn't believe she meant it. She probably didn't even know what she was saying. I couldn't blame her for that; after what happened to her… I refused to think about it because the anger that followed was too much to bear.

"Cooper," she said, breaking my thoughts as she turned to face me. "I want to report what happened to me."

"What?" My voice came out harsher than I intended.

She continued pouring the ground coffee into the filter with a calm that unnerved me. "I don't want anyone to go through what I went through."

My fists clenched at my sides. "You sure about this?"

She nodded, meeting my gaze with a determination that made something inside me ache. "It's the right thing to do."

I crossed the room in two strides and grabbed her hand before I could think better of it. "Killer," I started but didn't know how to finish.

She looked down at our joined hands then back up at me. Her eyes softened slightly. "Cooper, it's okay. I'm not doing this for revenge or attention. I'm doing it because it's right."

"Fuck what's right," I said, my voice low and rough. "What happened to you wasn't right, and you reporting this is going to mean you'll have to relive it. They'll poke and prod at you?—"

"I know," she interrupted, pouring water into the coffee machine without looking at me.

"And you're just going to be fine with it?"

"It's my responsibility," she replied, her tone steady but soft. "Zach… Zach implied he's done this before. How could I live with myself knowing someone else got hurt because of me?"

"Zach will get his," I growled, anger surging through me. "I'll make damn sure of that."

"Cooper," she said, turning to face me. Her eyes were resolute, filled with a determination that made my chest tighten. "I have to do this. I have to, okay? I need… I need something good to come from this."

"You were raped, Everly," I said, the word tasting like poison in my mouth. "Raped. Nothing good comes from that."

I hated that she flinched, that I made her flinch, but I had to make her understand.

"I can't… I can't see it that way," she said, pressing a button on the machine. "Something good has to come from this, even if… even if it's just you."

"Me?" I asked, thrown off balance by her words.

She nodded once. "You were there for me," she said simply. "You took me in. You didn't have to. And that's… that's good."

"Sometimes the world is a terrible place," I pointed out, frustration and worry mingling in my chest. "You can't go looking for the good in everything. You know that, right?"

"Sure I can," she said with a small smile.

The coffee machine gurgled loudly in the silence that followed.

I watched her as she busied herself with mugs and sugar packets, trying to process what she'd said. The weight of her words pressed on me like a boulder on my chest.

"Everly," I started again but stopped when she placed a steaming cup of coffee in front of me.

She gave me a look that silenced any further protest.

"Will you take me to the clinic?" she asked. "The one on-campus?"

I clenched my teeth but took the coffee from her. The warmth of the mug seeped into my hands, grounding me for a moment.

"You don't have to stay," she said. "I understand if you have other things to do and?—"

"Just, shut up," I groused before taking a sip of coffee. "Your coffee tastes like shit, you know."

"But you still drank it," she said, a faint smile playing at her lips. "See? You're good, Cooper."

I didn't say anything. I needed her to stop saying things altogether because I might do something crazy like believe her.

We stood there in silence, the air thick with unspoken words. Her resolve was infuriating and admirable all at once. She wanted to do the right thing, even if it meant tearing open her own wounds.

"Fine," I finally muttered, setting the mug down on the counter with a clink. "I'll take you."

Her eyes lit up with gratitude, but I looked away, unable to bear it. It was so easy to fall into them, and I refused.

Not again.

The exam room felt sterile, the kind of cold that seeps into your bones. I sat next to Everly on the examination table, my eyes glued to the linoleum floor. The door creaked open, and a doctor walked in, nose buried in his paperwork.

"Good afternoon," he mumbled without looking up. "I'm Dr. Langley, the only one on-call today. I'm going to need to strip you down and catalog your injuries."

He finally glanced at me, and recognition caused him to furrow his brow.

"Miss, may I speak to you alone?" he asked.

Everly furrowed her brows. "Why?"

"I'm not leaving," I said, my voice hard as granite.

"If you're in distress?—"

"Distress?" Everly cut him off, her voice sharp.

"You think I did this to her?" I growled.

"He would never," Everly insisted.

Dr. Langley continued, his tone clinical. "It would be best if he leave?—"

"Cooper isn't leaving," Everly interrupted, straightening her back. I had never seen her more fierce. "He didn't touch me. He's here to support me, and the fact that you automatically assumed it because of who he is is unacceptable. You owe him an apology."

The doctor jerked back, clearly taken aback.

"Well?" Everly pressed. "You should say sorry to him."

"I'm not going to?—"

"Please," Everly interjected, her voice softer, but no less determined. "I understand you have a job to do. But you insulted my friend by thinking the worst of him. It's only right you acknowledge you were wrong."

"I don't want his apology," I said snidely, though my chest tightened at her words.

Everly glared at me, and my heart skipped a beat at the sight of it. How was it that something so awful happened to her, yet she remained unbroken?

"She's right, Mr. Sinclaire," Dr. Langley finally conceded. "I apologize."

Everly nodded once as if satisfied and turned back to face me. The fire in her eyes had not dimmed one bit. It was like she drew strength from the confrontation, as if every word spoken was a brick laid in rebuilding herself.

I swallowed hard and reached for her hand without thinking. She took it without hesitation.

Dr. Langley sighed and flipped through his paperwork again. "Let's get started."

His examination was thorough, almost methodical. He moved around the room, gathering instruments and making notes. Each time he touched Everly's skin, I saw her flinch even though she tried to pretend it didn't bother her. It killed me inside, watching her go through this.

"All right, I need to check for any fractures," Dr. Langley said, setting down his clipboard.

Everly nodded, her face pale but resolute. I squeezed her hand, hoping to transfer some of my strength to her.

"Lay back," the doctor instructed.

Everly did as she was told, and I could see the effort it took for her to keep her composure. The doctor pressed gently on her ribs and limbs, checking for any signs of breaks or sprains. She winced a few times, but not once did she complain.

"You're doing great, killer," I whispered to her.

She gave me a small, tight-lipped smile that didn't reach her eyes.

The doctor continued, moving on to check for bruising and swelling. He carefully lifted the edge of Everly's shirt to examine her abdomen. The sight of the purple and blue marks made my blood boil. How could someone do this to her?

"Does this hurt?" Dr. Langley asked as he pressed on a particularly nasty-looking bruise.

Everly sucked in a breath through her teeth but shook her head. "Not too much."

"Liar," I muttered under my breath.

She shot me a look that was both grateful and annoyed. It was so typically Everly—always trying to downplay her own pain.

The examination dragged on, each minute feeling like an eternity. The doctor checked her head and neck last, making sure there were no signs of a concussion or whiplash. Then, he turned his attention to her pelvis. He was methodical, almost detached, as he examined her. I watched her face, saw the tear slip down her cheek, and her chin tremble. It tore me apart.

I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms. Thoughts of Zach filled my mind. The anger swelled inside me, and I began to plan.

Slow.

Painful.

He'd pay for this.

Dr. Langley straightened up and jotted something down on his clipboard.

"There's some damage," he said flatly. "I'll prescribe painkillers."

Everly's eyes widened. "Damage?"

"Yes," the doctor confirmed. "Unfortunately, because it happened last night and you showered, any evidence linking whoever did do this to you has been washed away."

"Wait, what?" Everly's voice wavered.

"You were drugged," Dr. Langley said without missing a beat.

"But I was there," she repeated, a desperate edge to her voice.

"Miss Hawthorne," he began, his tone condescending. "Unfortunately, your testimony as a victim isn't strong by itself. You should have reported this right away so we could collect evidence?—"

"Are you serious?" I snapped, stepping closer to him.

"I'm not going to lie to her," Langley said with a shrug.

"She's trying to do the right thing," I argued, my voice rising. "Even though she doesn't have to. She's trying. And you're making her feel like shit."

"Her feelings aren't my problem," the doctor replied coldly. "An officer will reach out, but don't expect anything."

Without thinking, I grabbed Dr. Langley by the collar and slammed him against the wall.

"Do you realize how fucking hard it is not only to be raped but to come to an asshole like you because you want to do the right thing only to be treated like shit on the bottom of your shoe?" I snarled in his face.

"Get your hands off me," he spat back, eyes wide with shock.

"Cooper," Everly's voice was soft yet urgent as she placed her hand on my arm. "Let's go. Please?"

I released my grip on the doctor immediately and turned back to Everly. The anger still boiled within me, but her touch grounded me, reminded me of what mattered most right now—her safety and well-being.

Dr. Langley straightened his coat, glaring at me but wisely keeping his mouth shut as we gathered our things and prepared to leave that sterile room behind us.

As we stepped out of the clinic, the cold air slapped me in the face. I turned to Everly, trying to catch her eye.

"Where to now, killer?"

She sighed, a sound full of weariness and defeat. "I don't know," she murmured. "I don't… I can't go back to my dorm."

"Don't you have a friend?—"

"Holly's with her mom," she interrupted.

I rubbed the back of my neck, thinking. "Maybe your mom?"

Everly looked at me with eyes that held years of hidden pain. "I can't tell her," she said softly. "My mom has homeschooled me since I was… since forever. Until now. She's always gone out of her way to protect me from the world. She always told me that the world would try to hurt me." She shook her head, a sad smile playing on her lips. "If she knew what happened to me, it would crush her. I couldn't do that to her."

I stared at her, stunned by her words. I hadn't realized just how sheltered her life had been. Homeschooled since forever? Protected from the world by a mother who thought danger lurked around every corner? It explained so much about her—her wide-eyed wonder, her naivety, and even her fierce independence. She'd been trying to prove something to herself, to everyone, by stepping out into a world she barely knew. And now that same world had turned on her in the worst possible way.

"I don't understand you, killer," I said, frustration leaking into my voice. "You're so worried about everyone else. You have to worry about you."

She took my hand in hers, and the contact sent a jolt through me. "Can I stay with you for a little longer?" she asked, her voice almost a whisper. "Please?"

I knew I should say no. It was the logical thing to do. But how could I? How could I turn her away when she looked at me like that?

"You're such a pain in the ass," I muttered.

She smiled—a real one this time—and it was like seeing sunlight break through storm clouds.

I tugged at her hand gently, and we fell into step together as we headed back to my car. The day felt different now—heavier, but somehow more bearable with her by my side.

As we walked, I couldn't help but think about what Dr. Langley had said earlier. It gnawed at me, eating away at whatever semblance of peace I had left. But for now, all that mattered was getting her somewhere safe.

We reached the car, and I opened the door for her before sliding into the driver's seat. She settled in beside me, still holding onto my hand as if letting go would mean losing everything.

"You good?" I asked quietly.

She nodded, though her eyes betrayed how far from okay she really was.

"I need to take care of something," I said, turning to her. "You need to grab a set of clothes if you're going to stay with me. Meet me at the rink when you're done, got it?"

Everly nodded once, her grip tightening on my hand. She pulled me closer, her eyes soft but resolute. "Thanks, Cooper," she murmured, voice barely audible.

"Don't thank me," I said, my tone harsher than intended. "I'm not a good guy."

"No," she agreed, closing her eyes. "You're the best guy."

My breath caught in my throat. Why did she have to say things like that? She didn't know me—not really. I wished she would stop looking at me like I was some kind of hero. I wasn't good. One day, she'd see the truth.

"Just get your stuff," I muttered, pulling my hand free from hers gently.

She nodded again and once I pulled in front of the Arctic Tundra dorms; she stepped out of the car. I watched her walk away, feeling a pang in my chest that I couldn't quite place.

I gripped the steering wheel so tight my knuckles turned white. The anger coursed through me like a wildfire, consuming everything in its path. I couldn't think straight, couldn't focus on anything but the rage. I needed to find Zach, and I needed to make him pay for what he'd done to Everly.

I pulled up to Frat Row, my tires screeching as I came to a stop. I didn't bother to park properly; I just left the car haphazardly on the side of the road. I stormed up to the frat house, my fists clenched at my sides. I pounded on the door; the sound echoing through the night.

One of the frat guys answered, his eyes widening in surprise when he saw me. "Hey, aren't you Cooper Sinclaire?" he asked, his voice laced with awe.

I didn't bother to respond. I pushed past him, my eyes scanning the room for any sign of Zach. People whispered as I moved through the house, their voices a low hum in the background.

"Isn't that Cooper Sinclaire?"

"What the hell is he doing here?"

I ignored them all, my focus solely on finding Zach. I moved from room to room, my anger growing with each passing second. Finally, I found him passed out on a mattress in one of the bedrooms. I didn't hesitate. I grabbed him by the collar and dragged him to his feet.

"What the fuck?" Zach slurred, his eyes barely open.

I didn't say a word. I just started hitting him. My fists connected with his face over and over again, the sound of each punch echoing through the room. Zach tried to fight back, but he was no match for me. I was fueled by rage, and I wasn't going to stop until he was nothing but a bloody mess on the floor.

I could hear people shouting in the background, but I didn't care. All that mattered was making Zach pay for what he'd done to Everly. I hit him again and again, my fists a blur as they connected with his face. I could feel the bones in my hands cracking, but I didn't care. The pain was nothing compared to the anger I felt.

I kicked him this time, my foot connecting with his ribs. He groaned, curling up into a ball on the floor. I didn't care. I just kept kicking. Each time my foot hit him, it felt like a small victory. Like I was taking back some of the power he'd stolen from Everly.

I kicked him again, this time in the stomach. He gasped, trying to curl up even tighter. But there was nowhere for him to go. I was relentless, my kicks coming faster and harder. I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to make him feel the pain he'd inflicted on Everly. I wanted him to know what it felt like to be helpless, to be at the mercy of someone stronger than you.

I kicked him again, my foot connecting with his face. I felt something crunch beneath my shoe, and I knew I'd broken his nose. But I didn't stop. I just kept kicking, my breath coming in ragged gasps as I tried to contain the rage inside of me.

I could feel the hands on my shoulders, pulling me back. I struggled against them, trying to break free. I looked up to see a group of frat guys holding me back, their faces twisted in anger.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" one of them yelled.

I didn't say anything. I just glared at Zach, who was now lying on the floor in a heap. I could see the fear in his eyes, and it only fueled my anger further.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. I could feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins, making my heart race. I looked around the room, my eyes landing on a group of girls who were staring at me in horror. I could see the fear in their eyes, and it only made me angrier.

Had they known?

Or were they victims too?

I pushed past the frat guys, my fists still clenched at my sides. I needed to get to her, to Everly. I stormed out of the house, my breath coming in ragged gasps.

I got back in my car and drove to the rink, my mind racing the entire time. I couldn't believe what had just happened. I had never lost control like that before. Not even with Matthews. But seeing Zach, knowing what he had done to Everly, had pushed me over the edge.

I pulled into the parking lot and sat there for a moment, trying to compose myself. I took a deep breath, trying to push the anger aside.

I could have killed him.

I could have killed Zach.

I would have too. And I would have slept like a baby, knowing he couldn't hurt her again.

I looked down at my hands, bloodied and broken. Was this what Ashley saw after what I did to Matthews? A monster, out of control? A monster who would one day turn these hands on her? Was that why she ran?

And what would Everly do when she found out what I had done? Would she run too?

Maybe she should.

Maybe that was for the best.

Because right now, I couldn't. I'd stay by her side until she pushed me away. And I knew, deep down, the day would come.

But it hadn't yet.