Page 121 of Cross the Line
“I’m lost,” Jayden says, resting his big hand on the curve of my ass.
“I don’t have a problem with fighting, Fin. But I do have a problem with people telling you to die and to kill yourself. I have a big fucking problem with anyone threatening you.”
Silence swallows us up. Eli’s hand shifts to my lower back while Jayden pulls back to read us.
“What. The. Fuck. Do you mean?” Jayden barks, his palm heavy on my spine beside Eli’s.
“Read her messages.” Eli hands him my phone. I resist the urge to make a face so Face ID fails.
One of them needs to stay sane. I’ve seen Jayden blow on the ice enough times to know this won’t be pretty.
“You’re getting death threats?” The question is more of a statement as he continues scrolling through my texts.
I know he’s reached his limits when he slams my phone into Eli’s chest. He pulls his out and gives Eli terse instructions while he makes a call. “Screenshot them all with the number visible and send them to me.”
The smile he tries on me is marred by his stubborn scowl.
“Fuck, man, people are gross.” Matheo rounds me to stand with Eli. His stormy blue eyes find me with a soft wink that makes it impossible to remain sullen.
Christina links her arm with mine, tugging me back down onto the arm of the large chair we were perched on before.
“I’m sorry I made light of it when we were at the mall,” she murmurs when I rest my head on her shoulder.
The gravity of what’s happening is settling over her, too. Or maybe it’s making her think twice about her feelings for Matheo.
“It’s not your fault, Babe,” I say, threading our fingers.
“No, but I should’ve known better. I’ve had to change my number enough times thanks to my father’s career.” She gives our joined hands a few quick squeezes—our code when words are too much.
I squeeze back twice:I’m okay.
“It’s going to be fine. You’ll report it to the police, and they’ll handle it. All you have to do is change your number.”
“How did all these people get it in the first place?” I’m mystified.
“Girl, there are forums for this sick shit.”
“Yeah, but somebody had to give them my number. Someone had to post it… I don’t understand how?—”
“Hey.” Jayden tips my chin while listening to the person on the phone. “My dad is handling it,” he says, no-quibbles. When I nod, he adds, “He says you can relax because he’ll have it dealt with by the time we get to the cabin.”
Whatever his Dad tells him next, Jayden rolls his eyes at. It’s obvious it’s not what he wants to hear from the way his jaw ticks.
“All right, I get it. I’m not going to do anything stupid, because there is literally nothing I can do right now.” Another roll of his eyes makesme chuckle. It makes him look so young and haughty that my insides squeeze tight. “Jesus, it’s not like I can go around America beating the shit out of all these assholes.”
Although… his devious smirk says he’d try.
I’ve seen this challenge in his eyes before. Thecome at me, get fuckedglint he gets when he’s being marked on the ice. Those moments where the tension is high and the stakes are higher.
With a gentle stroke over my cheek, he trails his hand to my nape while his thumb presses to Eli’s mark hidden beneath my loose hair. It’s a possessive touch, sure, but his focus is all on me—grounding, steadying. As he lifts me to my feet, he steps closer, bringing me into his chest.
“Nobody is going to hurt you, Baby,” he murmurs into my hair.
Heart hammering, lungs burning, I hold tight. “I know, Hotshot.”
When Eli steps in, my insides wrench. His rage hums—alive. Like protecting me is the very thing that fuels him.
Strong arms surround me.
