Page 11 of Sticks & Serpents

Fucking smiled.

That image replayed in my mind, her laughter echoing as she gazed up at him with those warm eyes—eyes that used to look at me that way before everything fell apart.

She thinks he’s safe?

My fingers tightened around the phone, knuckles white against its surface. It felt like she was twisting a knife deeper into an already festering wound. She wanted to pretend I didn’t exist? Fine.

I gritted my teeth against the cold water lapping around me, imagining Logan's cocky grin as he flirted with her—acting like he owned her attention now that she was so fucking involved. But what he didn’t understand was that Holly had been mine long before he even knew her name.

This was a game, and she thought she could play without consequences? She had no idea who she was messing with.

I pushed myself upright, feeling the icy water trickle down my back, mixing with the fire burning inside me.

She’s going to lose.

With each heartbeat, my resolve solidified. I wouldn’t let her forget who truly held power here—not now and not ever.

I leaned forward, staring hard at my reflection in the tub's surface. She might have walked away once, but this time would be different. I’d show her just how unforgettable I could be—and how stupid it was to underestimate me or our history.

The smile on her face when she looked at Logan would turn into something else entirely—a reminder that no matter how far she tried to run from me, I would always be right there behind her, waiting for my chance to remind her what we once had.

I climbed out of the ice bath, the cold still clinging to my skin as I shook off the last remnants of discomfort. I couldn’t linger on the chill; my mind buzzed with plans, each thought sharper than the last. Logan Hartley had put himself in my sights, and I would be damned if I let him think he could play the hero in Holly’s story.

I paced across the tiled floor, adrenaline still pumping through me as I recalled Logan’s routine. It wasn’t hard to remember; he was predictable—like every other jock trying to win a popularity contest.

I made sure to look into him when I heard what he and Holly were up to. There was a reason I paid Derrick what I did. He told me everything when it came to her.

Afternoons found him in the gym, pumping iron like it would somehow elevate his status among his peers. I imagined him grunting under weights, surrounded by sycophants who praised him for showing up to lift heavy things. It made me smirk.

Wednesdays were for his ritual at that off-campus bar—the one filled with washed-up athletes and wannabes drowning their mediocrity in cheap beer and loud music. Holly might think she was safe there with him, but that was where I’d catch her slipping away from reality. Maybe she'd be laughing at some lame joke he told, completely unaware of how much of a loser he truly was.

But the late-night runs? That was where Logan showed his true colors—when no cameras were around, and he thought he could disappear into the woods behind the athletic dorms without anyone watching.

Those runs were my favorite. The dark kept secrets well, but it wouldn’t hide him from me.

I grinned at the thought of stalking him like prey through those familiar trails—the adrenaline rush of being unseen while plotting his downfall felt electric. With every step he took under that cloak of night, I’d be right there behind him, just out of sight.

This time, when he glanced over his shoulder in fear or doubt, it wouldn’t be because of some passing shadow; it would be becauseIwas back—and this time, I wasn’t letting Holly slip through my fingers again.

My heart raced as I grabbed a towel and dried off quickly. I had work to do—each detail meticulously laid out in my mind like a blueprint for revenge. The game had only just begun, and Logan had no idea what was coming for him.

The night airfelt electric as I waited, muscles coiled tight like a spring ready to snap. Logan had his routine, and I’d studied every inch of it. The woods behind the athletic dorms offered the perfect cover, the shadows dancing with every flicker of moonlight.

I heard him before I saw him—heavy footsteps on the gravel, breath steady, oblivious to everything around him. Headphones in, he focused on his rhythm, lost in his world while mine twisted into something darker. This was my moment.

I stepped onto the trail just as he rounded a bend, catching him off guard. The collision happened in an instant; I slammed into him like a freight train, sending us both crashing into the dirt. The impact knocked the wind from me for a split second, but I reveled in the surprise that flashed across his face.

He struggled beneath me, fists flailing wildly as he tried to regain control of the situation. One punch landed against my jaw—a solid hit—but it felt like nothing more than a gentle tap.

I laughed softly, relishing this moment of chaos.

“Nice try,” I muttered through a grin.

Logan's eyes widened in disbelief as he realized who had taken him down. He was scrambling now, his earlier bravado faltering as he pushed against my chest to get up. But I wasn’t finished yet.

I leaned closer, holding him down with just enough pressure to keep him pinned without crushing him completely. My smile widened as I savored his growing frustration.

“What’s wrong? Thought you were tougher than this?” My voice dripped with mockery.

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