THREE: Scott Powell

~JUNE~

Everything after the bat hit Gavin’s shoulder felt like a blur blaring in red and blue lights. Paramedics flooded my apartment, their voices sharp and urgent as they cut through the ringing in my ears.

“Possible fracture!”

“Get him on the stretcher, careful with the shoulder!”

They lifted Gavin carefully, but even the smallest movement squeezed a broken sound from his throat. I’ll never forget that sound.

I tried to follow, but another paramedic caught my arm.

“You’re bleeding.”

I hadn’t even noticed.

A thick piece of gauze was pressed hard against my neck, fingers firm as they guided me toward the door. My legs barely worked.

The red and blue ambulance lights illuminated the cracked walls of my apartment complex, flashing against rusted railings and peeling paint. Neighbors peeked through curtains. A few stood outside in slippers, whispering.

The sirens wailed as they loaded Gavin in first and I climbed in after him. The doors slammed shut and we sped through the night while I stared at him the entire time.

His face was pale. Jaw clenched and one hand gripping the edge of the stretcher while the other twitched near his injured shoulder.

“Stay with us, Gavin.” One paramedic urged.

He nodded weakly.

All I could think was- Is his shoulder okay? He’s a hockey player, injuring his shoulder was like career suicide…

God...this was all my fault.

At the hospital, they separated us immediately. “Family only beyond this point.”

“I’m his-” I stopped.

What was I? Not family and definitely not his girlfriend. Just-

“Best friend…” I whispered, more to myself.

They rushed him for scans. He was given pain medication almost instantly. Words like ‘fracture’, ‘impact trauma’, ‘emergency procedure’ floated around me. Someone handed him papers, probably to sign consent and I saw him sign for the emergency surgery.

Everything was happening too fast and whispers started spreading through the hallways.

“That’s him.”, “The rookie.”, “Oh my God, that’s Gavin Powell.”

Phones were already out, possibly leaking information and violating their HIPPA. Police arrived soon after and they sat me down. “Miss, we need a statement.” I stared at the officer’s badge but didn’t really see it.

“What happened tonight?”

I swallowed, deciding on a stupid act. “We got jumped.” I said quietly. “Random attack. They broke in. I don’t know them.”

The lie slipped through like I was a professional actress. Because gangs like that? They have ears everywhere, even in the force.

The officer scribbled notes. “Did they say anything specific? Demand anything?”

I swallowed thicky, lying once again. “No.”

“What the hell happened to my star player!” Coach Harrison erupted into the wing, his face a deep purple.

He charged toward me with wide bulging eyes. I flinched, shrinking back, but a group of teammates and officers held him back.

“Coach, not here, the press is outside.”

“You think I care about press?!” he barked, glaring hard at me.

I shrank further back in my seat and watched as police guided him away, muttering about statements and legalities.

Aaron appeared beside me a second later, jaw tight. He guided me toward the waiting area. “What the hell happened, June?” he demanded.

I shook my head, dazed. “They hurt his shoulder…” I croaked. “We got jumped.”

Aaron’s eyes snapped to mine. “What? By who? Crazy fans? A stalker?”

I stayed silent.

He punched the wall beside us so hard I jumped. “Fuck!” he growled, dragging a hand down his face.

Three hours. Three endless, suffocating hours we waited for Gavin and finally, the nurses emerged, wheeling Gavin out on a hospital bed.

He was barely awake with heavy eyes that were unfocused from the drugs dulling the pain. His shoulder was heavily wrapped and secured. We moved toward him instinctively.

“Not yet-” the nurse said firmly. “You’ll see him when the medication wears off.”

And just like that, he was gone again behind another set of doors.

Aaron stormed off without another word while I sank into one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs. It felt like everyone was angry at me. Coach, Aaron, the universe…

My head dropped into my hands with tears blurring my vision.

Then the hallway went quiet. It wasn’t the normal kind, but the heavy kind of silent. The kind that comes when something powerful enters a room.

Boots.

Heavy boots marched in synchronized sounds as it grew closer. I looked up, brows furrowing. Three men who looked dark and dangerous, walked down the hospital corridor like they owned it.

The one on the right had piercing blue eyes and a bleached blonde buzz cut. A dark tattoo sat just above his brow, and a silver nose ring caught the fluorescent light. His black and white leather jacket creaked as he moved, paired with black jeans and heavy boots.

The one on the left was dark-skinned, tall, with long neat dreads tied into a low bun. Tattoos wrapped around his neck. Multiple piercings lined his ears. His all-black leather jacket matched his sagging denim jorts and military-style boots.

But the man in the middle-

My breath hitched.

Dark hair pushed back like he’d just run his hand through it. Trimmed sharply at the sides. Strong full brows permanently set in what looked like rage. Piercing grey eyes and a single diamond stud in his right ear.

He wore a black and red leather jacket with tattoos crawling from beneath the collar. He didn’t just demand attention, he commanded it.

Power radiated off him.

My heart started pounding for an entirely different reason, because I knew that face. I had seen it once before, in an old, worn photo album at Gavin’s place. A smiling teenage boy with his arm slung around a much younger Gavin.

Scott.

Scott Powell, the older brother who ran away, the one who joined a biker gang called the ‘Hellfire riders’.

He stopped directly in front of me, his grey eyes locked onto mine and he looked furious. “Where-” he started slowly. “-is my brother?”

My throat felt raw, eyes shaking as I whispered. “In recovery…he just got out of surgery.”

His jaw ticked, eyes flicking briefly toward the double doors before locking back onto me. Up close, he was even more intimidating with his controlled anger, which felt far more dangerous.

“Was it the Knightside Riders?” he asked flatly.

My eyes snapped up to his.

I didn’t have to say anything because the answer was written all over my face. Behind him, the blonde with the buzz cut cursed under his breath. “Those desperate bastards…”

Scott didn’t look surprised, instead he looked… calculating.

“I didn’t know.” I rushed out, my voice breaking. “They- they came for their money. They’ve never been to my house before. I swear. I don’t know how they found it. They just showed up and- and Gavin was there and-”

My breathing turned uneven. I wiped at my cheeks angrily. “I didn’t know…” I repeated, softer this time.

Scott’s eyes dropped briefly to the gauze at my neck, then lifted again. “What money?” he asked.

My chest tightened.

“I’m in debt.” I admitted, shame burning through me. “It’s from my parents…and I’ve been trying to pay it off in small amounts but I- I fell behind.”

Silence stretched as Scott started at me before his lips curled darkly, scoffing under his breath and nodded once, like something had just confirmed itself.

The man with the dreads let out a low, humorless chuckle. “So those fuckers saw a way to mess with you and took it?”

My brows furrowed. “What?”

I looked between them, confusion twisting inside me. “I don’t understand. They were yelling for their money. They broke into my apartment. They-”

Scott cut me off. “They weren’t there for you.”

My stomach dropped. “What?”

His jaws clenched with hard eyes. “They were there for Gavin.”