Page 166 of Top Shelf

My stomach twists.

There has to be another explanation. Maybe he dropped it somewhere before the party and someone else picked it up. Maybe Wren found it herself. The problem is, every explanation sounds weaker than the one I don’t want it to be.

Isaac laughs at something one of the guys says. Around me, life goes on. Everyone is oblivious to the fact that the ground has just been pulled out from beneath my feet.

All I can see is Wren. Bruised, terrified, and alone.

I’ve spent years thinking about the man who hurt her. Years carrying that coin. Replaying that night. Wondering who he could be. And all along he’s been here. Twenty feet away, sharing a locker room with us, and wearing our jersey.

Standing there, I can’t look away from Isaac. My teammate. A guy who, only moments ago, I would have said I know well enough. Now, I’m questioning everything I thought I knew about him. Questioning everything I see.

He claps Brenner on the back, appearing cool, calm, and collected.

Is it all a ruse?

I know some of it is. Beneath his charismatic veneer, Isaac is arrogant. He can be as hot-headed as Lucian at times, and he doesn’t take criticism well.

However, none of that means he’s a cold-blooded rapist.

He’s never once acted like he knows Wren, that he recognizes her from that night. Although he was initially flirting with her and was definitely jealous when he found out she was dating us. Ever since their confrontation, he has left her alone. In fact, he has gone so far as to blank her.

I continue to watch him while Ronan gives his pre-gamespeech. While Coach goes over last-minute plays. While everyone lines up.

If heisthe one who raped her that night…guilt threatens to swallow me whole.

How many times has he been around her?

How many times have I stood in the same room as him?

How many times did he look at her, and I missed it?

Monsters are supposed to look different. They’re supposed to announce themselves somehow.

But Isaac just looks like…Isaac.

The first period passes in fragments. The most important game of my life, and I don’t remember half of it.

The crowd is loud, the game is fast, and the Steelhawks are playing aggressively.

None of it matters.

Every time I step onto the ice, my eyes find Isaac. Every shift. Every whistle. Every line change. I watch his every move; study his every play. No matter how much I watch, though, nothing changes. Nothing negates the fact that I foundhis coinby Wren’s body that night, and no matter how many scenarios I invent for how it could have ended up with her in that abandoned plot, none of them make as much sense as the simple fact that it got there becausehewas there.

And there is only one reason for why he would be there.

The buzzer sounds, announcing the end of the first period. The teams head for their respective locker rooms. I barely make it through the door before Ronan grabs my shoulder. Concern fills his face. “What is going on with you?”

I search his eyes before looking across the room. He follows my gaze…straight to Isaac.

Ronan’s expression changes immediately. “Silas.”

Lucian looks over from where he’s pulling off a glove. “What’s going on?” he asks, coming over.

Both of them stare at me expectantly, and I know I have to tell them. Grabbing the notebook I keep in my locker, I scrawl out five words I never thought I’d write.

Isaac was there that night.

They immediately know what I’m referring to. Lucian’s face turns thunderous.