The Hockey Star’s Remorse

TIMOTHY POV

Timothy gripped the steering wheel tightly, his foot pressing the accelerator, urging his car to go faster. The urgency to reach Evie burned within him, each passing mile heightening his anxiety.

The image of Evie’s desperate plea for help replayed in his mind, her voice trembling with fear. It was a haunting memory that drowned out any hesitations. He couldn’t risk her safety by involving others. This

was something he had to do alone.

Timothy clenched his jaw, trying to push away the doubts. She had been brave enough to drop him some clues before Bruce caught off all contact, but it had gotten him somewhere.

The speedometer needle edged further into the red zone as the car raced down the highway. His knuckles whitened against the steering wheel, his heart hammering with a mix of dread and

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The cityscape whizzed by, giving way to desolate roads on the outskirts. The streets grew emptier, the surroundings more secluded–a stark contrast to the bustling city he had left behind.

Timothy’s phone buzzed incessantly with messages from Aria and Lucas, their concerns becoming more pronounced in their texts. But he couldn’t afford to be distracted. His only goal was to reach Evie and ensure her safety.

The uncertainty of what awaited him gnawed at his resolve. What if he was walking into a trap set by Bruce? Would Evie still be safe? The questions buzzed relentlessly in his mind, a constant companion to his racing thoughts.

He considered the gun he had brought along–an unfamiliar weight in his hands. It was a precaution, a desperate measure to protect Evie if things spiraled out of control. He had never held a gun before, but the fear of Bruce’s potential violence spurred him to arm himself.

The car sped along the highway, the scenery flashing past in a blur. Timothy’s mind raced with every possible scenario, each one ending with Evie’s safety. His grip on the steering wheel tightened.

As he approached Stella’s address, Timothy’s instincts urged caution. He parked his car a distance down the street, choosing stealth over, haste to avoid drawing attention. With each step toward the home, a palpable tension hung in the air.

In a secluded area, the place seemed serene, yet an eerie stillness lingered. A drop of sweat tickled his eyebrow as he cautiously approached, his every footfall echoing in the silence.

The front door stood slightly ajar, which made him pause for a moment. The hairs on the back of his neck bristled with unease as he cautiously pushed the door open, the creaking sound grating his

nerves.

The interior of the house was shrouded in an unsettling stillness, a haunting silence that gripped Timothy’s senses. His heart raced in his chest, a mixture of dread and determination pushing him forward.

“Evie?” Timothy called out softly, the sound of his own voice breaking the oppressive silence. There was no response, only the echo of his words reverberating through the empty corridors.

The house seemed deserted, yet he had the feeling something or someone had to be lingering. Timothy’s grip tightened around the gun, a surge of adrenaline coursing through him as he navigated

the dimly lit rooms, his eyes scanning for any sign of Evie or danger.

Each room he entered felt like a step into the unknown despite his previous visits. The silence only amplified his apprehension.

“Evie, where are you?” Timothy’s voice rang out, an urgent plea. But the only response was the hollow echo of his own words, bouncing off the walls.

*As Timothy cautiously descended the stairs into the dimly lit basement, an eerie sensation swept over him. The faint glow of monitors and cameras flickered in the shadows. His eyes darted around, searching the dark room.

The air in the basement felt heavy with an unsettling stillness, punctuated only by the hum of electronic equipment. As Timothy approached the setup of cameras and screens, a sense of foreboding crept into his bones.

It was then that he felt a sudden tug at his ankle, a desperate grasp that jolted him from his thoughts.

Startled, he looked down to find a feeble hand clutching his leg, its trembling revealing the frailty of its

owner.

Stella lay on the ground, her weakened state evident from the pallor of her skin and the anguish etched on her face. She struggled to speak, her voice barely a whisper, as if each word took a monumental effort.

“Evie… Bruce…” Timothy’s voice trembled with concern as he crouched down beside her. “Where are they?”

Stella’s eyes fluttered weakly, her breaths shallow and labored. She attempted to respond, but her words were swallowed by large gasps of air.

Frantic with worry, Timothy scanned the room, desperately searching for any sign of Evie or Bruce. Panic surged through him as he realized the gravity of the situation–Evie was nowhere to be found.

With a sense of urgency, he gently lifted Stella into his arms, ignoring her feeble protests. Ascending the stairs, he carried her to the main floor of the house, his mind racing with a mixture of fear and determination.

Laying Stella on the ground gently, Timothy rummaged through her home for any makeshift first aid supplies. He found a large blanket and pressed it against Stella’s wound, applying pressure to stem the bleeding.

“Did Bruce do this?” Timothy’s voice was urgent, his eyes pleading for any semblance of information. Where’s Evie?”

But Stella’s weakened state rendered her unable to respond, her breaths growing shallower with each passing moment.

Frustration gnawed at Timothy’s resolve as he continued his attempts to staunch the bleeding. Time seemed to blur as he worked fervently, his heart pounding with a mix of desperation and fear.

“Please, Stella, you have to tell me where Evie and Bruce are,” Timothy pleaded, his voice tinged with at sense of urgency and despair.

Stella’s eyes fluttered weakly, her gaze meeting his with a feeble intensity. Though her lips moved, no

sound emerged, her strength waning with every passing second. Eventually, he gave up.

“I’ll call for an ambulance,” he said finally, reaching for his phone. “But don’t you dare try anything. I

know you were involved.”

Stella’s feeble gaze met his and a sense of understanding reflected in her eyes. She offered a faint nod, a half–hearted apology slipping from her lips. “I won’t do anything, I promise.”

Though weak and barely audible, her words held a semblance of sincerity. Timothy hesitated for a

moment, torn between the urgency of finding Evie and the concern for Stella’s declining health.

“They left a little while before you got here,” Stella’s voice was barely above a whisper, her breaths shallow and ragged. “They couldn’t have gone too far. Check the livestream again.”

Timothy’s heart raced with renewed hope. He nodded, acknowledging Stella’s words. As he exited the house, Timothy’s fingers worked feverishly on his phone, dialing for emergency services and giving them a quick rundown of what happened before rushing to his car.

After starting the engine, he reopened the video link and scrolled through the footage of the livestream, desperately searching for any sign of Evie or Bruce. His eyes scanned the images frantically, searching for any trace of familiarity, any clue that could lead him to Evie’s whereabouts.