28. Connor

After Minka"s departure, her words echoed in the hollows of the empty house, leaving me with a restless energy and a need to do something, anything, to make this situation right. The thought of reaching out to Brooke directly, of trying to navigate the tumultuous waters stirred up by scandal and speculation, left me hesitating, uncertain of what to say, how to even begin. My phone felt heavy in my hand, both a bridge and also a barrier I wasn"t sure how to cross. Instead, I directed my unease into a text to Minka, seeking some connection to Brooke through her.

Minka"s response came quickly.

She's as good as can be expected. She's in my dorm, getting ready for the Titans X-mas party.

Huh.

She was alone.

The decision to try to catch Brooke alone before the party wasn"t made lightly. The possibility of exacerbating her stress, of making her situation more difficult with my presence, was a risk. But the need to see her, to offer whatever support I could, outweighed the fear of potential fallout. It was a gamble, but one I felt compelled to take, driven by a mix of guilt, concern, and an indefinable urge that went beyond the need to simply make things right.

I drove to the campus with a purpose, my thoughts a whirlwind of possible scenarios, each more daunting than the last. I didn't give a shit about the party. I just wanted to catch Brooke before she got to the rink. Maybe she was still in Minka's dorm.

Stepping out of the car, I adjusted my coat, a futile attempt to steel myself against the chill and the emotional maelstrom awaiting me. I couldn"t simply walk away from her, regardless of the consequences. The decision to see her, to ensure she was all right, was important. Whatever it meant…I would worry about that later.

Right now, I just had to see her.

I marched up the stairs to Minka"s dorm room, my heart pounding in my chest. I rapped my knuckles against the door; the sound echoing down the hallway.

Silence.

I strained my ears, listening for any signs of life inside the room. Then, I heard it. A muffled cry, barely audible, but unmistakable. My heart lurched in my chest, and I knew without a doubt that it was Brooke.

I didn"t hesitate. I reared back and slammed my shoulder into the door, the wood splintering beneath my weight. The door crashed open, and I stumbled into the room, my eyes scanning the chaos before me.

Brooke was on the bed, her dress torn and her hair disheveled. Stephen Hanson was on top of her, his hands gripping her wrists as he tried to pin her down. His face was a mess of blood and bruises, evidence of Brooke"s fierce struggle.

Rage surged through me, hot and fierce. I saw red, and all I could think about was getting Hanson off of her. I lunged forward, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and yanking him from the bed. He stumbled backwards, his eyes wide with shock.

The world around me shifted, disappeared. It was just me and Stephen now.

I swung my fist, connecting with his jaw. The satisfying crunch of bone on bone echoed through the room. Hell, I didn"t even feel the pain. All I could think about was Stephen on top of Brooke, trying to hurt her, trying to hurt what was mine.

I hit him again, and again, and again. Each hit was more satisfying than the last. I could feel the rage coursing through my veins, fueling my every movement. I could hear Brooke"s cries, her pleas for me to stop, but I couldn"t. I wouldn"t. Not until Stephen was nothing more than a broken mess on the floor.

I grabbed his hand, squeezing his fingers until I heard the sickening snap of bone. He screamed in pain, but I didn"t care. I did it again, and again, until three of his fingers were broken and useless.

I stood over him, my chest heaving with exertion. I could feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins, the satisfaction of knowing that I had protected what was mine. I looked down at Stephen, his face a bloody mess, and felt nothing but contempt.

I would kill him.

I was going to.

"Connor." Brooke"s hand found my shoulder. "Connor, stop. Please."

"No," I replied. "He hurt you, Westwood. He wanted to violate you. He isn"t allowed to fucking hurt you."

I punched him again.

"Connor, we already have so much shit we need to deal with," she said, her voice shaking. I hit Stephen again. "Please. I don"t want you to go to jail on top of everything else."

"Me?" I growled, pulling my gaze away from Stephen to look at her. "You"re worried about me?"

"Of course, I"m worried about you," she said, the sincerity in her voice piercing the fog of my anger. "I don"t want you to get punished because of me." She paused, taking a step closer, her gaze locked with mine. "That"s why you were fired from the Serpents, isn"t it? Because of me? Because of that night?"

I looked away, unable to meet her eyes, unable to lie to her.

"I mean, I thought as much, but I didn"t know for sure because... because no one ever asked me," she continued, a note of disbelief in her voice. "I thought they"d at least asked." She swallowed hard. "Connor, I can"t do this to you. You"re a good person and no one gets to see it because of your on-ice reputation."

"I don"t care about that," I said, the truth of my words resonating deep within me. "I care about you. I always have." I reached for her hand, the connection immediate and comforting. "Let me take you home, Brooke. Let me make it right."

She sniffled, tears brimming in her eyes. "I know what you did for my dad. Again. You"ve already made it right. I don"t think I could ever repay you?—"

"Stop," I interjected, my heart aching at the sight of her tears. "I don"t want...I just want you."

As tears fell freely from her face, a soft moan from Stephen broke the moment. My attention snapped to him, a stark reminder of the reality we were entangled in. Anger returned, fast and hot. To think that this boy, this asshole, tried to put his hands on my girl…

I pulled away from Brooke and stood over Hanson, my fists clenched at my sides. I hit him again. And again. I wanted to keep hitting him, to make him pay for what he had done to Brooke. But her voice cut through the haze of anger, pulling me back to reality.

"Connor, stop. Please."

I turned to look at her, my chest heaving with exertion. Her eyes were clear and focused, filled with determination and resolve.

"He hurt you, Westwood," I growled again, my gaze flicking back to Hanson. "He isn"t allowed to fucking hurt you."

"I know," she replied, her voice steady. "But I don't want you hurt either. I don't want anything to happen to you."

I let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through my hair. She was right. I couldn"t let my anger get the best of me, no matter how much I wanted to make Hanson pay.

"Fine," I said, my voice tight. "But I"m not letting him get away with this."

Brooke nodded, her eyes filled with gratitude. "I know. But we need to be smart about it. We can"t let this ruin your reputation."

I scoffed, turning my gaze back to Hanson. "My reputation? We already talked about this."

"Yes, your reputation," she replied, her voice firm. "You"re a professor at Crestwood, Connor. You have a career to think about. We can"t let this become an even bigger scandal than it already is."

I let out a humorless laugh, shaking my head. "You really think I give a fuck about my reputation right now?"

"I know you don"t," she said, her voice softening. "But I do. I care about you, Connor. And I don"t want to see you throw everything away because of him. Because of…me."

Turning back to Stephen"s crumpled form on the floor, my gaze lingered on him, a potent mixture of disgust and anger boiling within me. The sight of him, so defiant and accusatory just moments ago, now reduced to a pained, moaning heap, did little to quench the fury simmering in my veins. His presence here, his audacity to confront and accuse, had ignited a primal rage, a protective instinct that roared fiercely for Brooke. Even as reason and the looming threat of consequences clawed at the edges of my mind, urging restraint, the visceral satisfaction of defending Brooke from anyone who dared hurt her was undeniable. In that moment, every clenched muscle and every pounding heartbeat echoed a singular, unyielding message: no one hurts her. No one.

"If you ever touch her again," I growled, my voice low and menacing, "I"ll kill you."

And I meant every fucking word.

I turned away from him, my eyes finding Brooke. I could see the fear in her eyes, the pain etched on her face. I crossed the room in two strides, gathering her in my arms.

"I"m sorry," I whispered, my voice hoarse with emotion. "I"m so sorry."

She didn"t say anything, just buried her face in my chest. I held her tightly, my heart aching with the knowledge that I had failed her. I had promised to protect her, and I had let her down.

But I wouldn"t let her down again. I would do whatever it took to keep her safe, to keep her mine.

"What the fuck is going on here?" a low voice asked, filling the room.

The sudden arrival of Minka and Levi cut through the tension like a sharp blade. Levi's immediate reaction was to protect, his body instinctively placing itself between Minka and the scene of chaos, his eyes locked on Stephen"s form on the floor, assessing the threat.

Minka, however, was driven by concern, her focus solely on Brooke. She rushed to her side, enveloping her in a reassuring hug, her words a rapid-fire mix of worry and relief. "Are you all right? Brooke, oh my God, are you okay? Your dress…What happened?"

"Connor... Connor kept anything bad from happening," Brooke managed to say, her voice steadier than I expected, given what we"d just endured.

"I"ll call the police," Levi announced grimly, already reaching for his phone, his tone leaving no room for discussion.

Minka turned back to Brooke, her decision made. "You should go. We"ll handle this."

"Are you sure?" Brooke"s uncertainty was palpable, her loyalty and concern for those around her as evident as ever.

"You need to rest," Minka insisted, her gaze soft but firm. "We"ll be fine."

Levi remained silent, focused on the call to the police, providing them with the details of the incident with a calm that belied the intensity of the situation. Once done, he continued to keep a wary eye on Stephen, ensuring no further threats would arise.

Brooke"s gaze met mine, a silent plea within the depths of her eyes. "Will you take me home?"

Home.

A concept that had felt elusive and fragmented in recent times now seemed to crystallize, gaining weight and warmth with her simple request.

I nodded, unable to speak.

As I looked at her, something shifted, a resolve settling in.

And this time, I"d never let her go.