Chapter Text
The arena was buzzing, but Hannah Wells could barely hear the roar of the crowd. She almost didn’t come. The very thought of being in the same building as Delaney had her stomach twisting with anxiety. But Garrett Graham needed her, and she refused to let her own trauma dictate her life anymore.
"I'm going to use the bathroom really quick before warm-ups," Hannah told Garrett, giving him a reassuring squeeze as they stood in the corridor near the locker rooms.
Garrett looked down at her, his expression softening as he read the lingering fear in her eyes. "You okay, Wellsy?"
"I'm fine. Just nerves," she lied, offering a small smile.
He pulled her in, kissing her gently but firmly on the lips. "Okay. Hurry back. I'll be looking for you in the stands."
Hannah walked down the quiet hallway, pushing through the heavy door of the women's restroom. She quickly used the stall, stepped up to the sink to wash her hands, and checked her reflection in the mirror, taking deep, steadying breaths.
As she pushed open the restroom door to leave, she collided with someone stepping into the corridor.
Hannah stumbled backward, her blood running cold. Towering over her with a menacing smirk was Delaney.
"Well, well, well," he drawled, his voice sending a shiver of terror down her spine. "Look who it is."
Before she could react, Delaney grabbed her by the arm and violently shoved her back inside the bathroom, locking the door behind him. Hannah's heart hammered against her ribs as she backed away from him.
"You really thought you could ruin my life with those lies?" Delaney hissed, closing the distance between them. "No one is ever going to believe a little tramp like you over me."
Hannah’s voice caught in her throat. The confidence she had painstakingly rebuilt over the last few months vanished, replaced by the suffocating panic she knew all too well. "Get away from me," she whispered, her back hitting the cold tile wall.
Delaney’s face twisted with rage. "You're going to learn to keep your mouth shut."
He reached into his jacket pocket, and in a flash of silver, a switchblade materialized in his hand. Before Hannah could scream, he lunged forward, driving the knife into her abdomen.
A sharp, searing pain ripped through her body. Hannah let out a breathless gasp, collapsing onto the cold, hard tile floor. The edges of her vision blurred instantly. The metallic scent of blood filled the small, sterile room. Delaney stared down at her with a look of pure, unadulterated coldness, turned on his heel, and walked out, leaving the heavy door to click shut behind him.
"Garrett..." Hannah choked out, reaching a trembling hand toward the door. But the words were barely a whisper, swallowed up by the heavy, echoing walls of the bathroom.