Chapter Thirty-One

Tatum

I've been replaying in my mind how Wells managed to get that video of Reed and me out by Greencastle. How he had it or why it wasn't deleted with the others.

Thankfully, Reed couldn't find it posted online, which was a small relief. I hate the thought of this affecting his reputation, especially with the season underway.

Wells could send it to the wrong people and ruin everything for him. I don't even care about what people say or think of me anymore. I'm worried about him.

Reed doesn't deserve to be dragged into this mess. Even the foul during the Rixton game was my fault. I'm tired of living in this constant fear, waiting for the next blow to come.

After class, I came back home to change, grab my phone armband, and refill my water bottle.

Me: Going for a run out by Black Rock. I'll see you at home in an hour.

I work my usual shift at the bakery tonight, so Reed and I usually spend a couple of hours together before he heads to practice and I go to work.

This is my first time running this part of the trail near Black Rock. It's not far from where Reed took me on the four-wheelers for our date.

Once I park the car and start my music, I settle into a steady pace for the first mile of my run. This trail has fewer trees and a better view overlooking the ocean, which I enjoy. Although the sun is more intense on some days, today it's perfect.

My muscles burn after not running for a week. It's the longest break I've had since I first moved here and was still finding my favorite spots to run.

After completing a little over five miles, I loop around while making a detour to check out the view of the beach. The setting sun casts a warm glow over the sand. The sky is a beautiful mix of orange, pink, and purple. The cool breeze from the water brings the scent of salt with it.

I'm not paying attention on my way to the car, which is my first mistake. I'm engrossed in my phone, scrolling through podcasts, trying to figure out which one I want to start. The beach is mostly empty by this time, with the temps dropping as the sun sinks lower.

I reach for the key fob pinned to my sports bra when the deep voice behind me mutters my name, causing me to freeze in my tracks.

"Wells," I murmur. It's not so much a question but more a statement. When I glance at my reflection in the car window, it confirms what I already suspected.

"What are you doing in Braysen?" I ask.

"Shouldn't I be asking you the same question? You took off from Rixton and changed your number. Hell, it looks like you changed a lot about yourself. All for what? Because we broke up."

I slowly turn to face him. Seeing him for the first time in months makes me wonder what the hell I ever saw in him. His dark hair is longer and unkept, and the circles under his eyes reveal a side of him I've never seen before. He's clearly not doing as well as he might pretend.

Of course he's not. He's too busy making everyone around him miserable, probably to hide how he feels about himself.

"It was time for me to make a change," I say firmly.

He chuckles and shakes his head, running his fingers down his nose.

"How did you know where I was anyway?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Did you forget I have connections? Someone spotted you and your new boyfriend after their game against Keaton. It wasn't hard to put the pieces together from there. Considering the dirty play he made at the game against us a couple weeks ago. It all started to make sense."

I roll my eyes. "I meant, how did you find me today?"

"Oh, well, that was easy. All I had to do was ask around. Seeing the bakery in town was a giveaway. A few people recognized you from there. Even though you blocked me on social media and changed your number, you didn't block me on your running app."

My brows furrow.

"If there's one thing I've learned about you, Tate, it's that you're a creature of habit. When you run, you mostly stick to trails. Once I figured out the ones in town, it was easy to guess which one you might visit based on their view."

He smirks. "The only thing I couldn't figure out was your schedule. Thankfully, your updates in your running app gave me an idea of what days and times you usually went out and made it simple to narrow down from there."

I clench my jaw, mentally berating myself for not blocking him on there too.

Who am I kidding? I didn't think he'd go to these lengths to find me.

My phone vibrates, then it starts ringing. I freeze and glance nervously at Wells.

"Turn that shit off. You're with me right now. We have some things to talk about. You can call whoever it is later."

I press the button on the side of the phone to send the call to voicemail.

"Well, you said you want to talk. What do you want to talk about?" I do my best to remain calm.

"Let's start with who's behind the text messages I got a few days ago. Was that your little boyfriend too?"

"Huh? I don't know what you're talking about," I reply, feigning ignorance.

My phone vibrates again, and this time, the ringing feels louder and more insistent than before.

"Motherfucker. Give it to me, Tate. Right now," he orders, holding his hand out to me.

"No," I say, steeling my spine, ready to go toe-to-toe with him.

Wells steps closer and grabs my chin, his fingers squeezing so hard that I wince in pain. With his other hand, he rips the Velcro strap of my holder from my phone. As the phone continues to ring, he slams it on the ground, shattering the screen, and the ringing stops abruptly.

"There, see. Now, that wasn't so fuckin' hard, was it?"

I inhale a sharp breath, rubbing my jaw. "That's all fine and well, but the fact he's called three times tells me he knows something's wrong."

Without warning, Wells lands a loud slap across my face, forcing my head to snap back and sending a sharp pain through my jaw. Tears prick my eyes, but I blink them away, determined to rein it in. I'll be damned if I let this asshole see my tears or think he can break me.

I don't think he realizes who he's messed with yet, but he will.