The transition from the warmth of Annie's room to the cold reality of the "ban" was swift and brutal.
Barely an hour after Ethan had climbed back through his own window, the heavy front door of the Hawthorne residence rattled under a firm, somber knock.
Kia Hawthorne opened the door to find Dylan standing on her porch, looking exhausted and worn down. The conversation was brief but devastating. Dylan, fueled by Margaret's relentless demands and the sight of Kyson's battered face, delivered the verdict: Ethan was no longer welcome on their property. No visits, no talking, no contact. He cited the "safety of the household," though his eyes betrayed the guilt he felt for cutting Annie's only lifeline.
When the door closed, Kia turned to find Ethan standing at the top of the stairs, his shadow long and dark against the hallway wall.
"He was just here, wasn't he?" Ethan asked, his voice a low, dangerous vibration.
Kia sighed, her face full of sympathy as she climbed the stairs to meet him. "Dylan just left, Ethan. He... he says you're banned from the property. He told me about the fight with Kyson. He's worried about the violence, honey. He said you aren't allowed to see Annie anymore."
Ethan's reaction was immediate. His jaw set so hard the bone looked ready to snap, and his hands balled into white-knuckled fists at his sides. A surge of pure, unadulterated fury rolled through him- not just at Kyson for the lies, but at the sheer unfairness of Annie being isolated when she needed him most.
"He thinks a piece of property line is going to stop me?" Ethan hissed, his eyes flashing with a bold, defiant fire. "He thinks he can just lock her away because Kyson's a liar?"
"Ethan, be smart," Kia warned softly, reaching out to touch his arm. "If you trespass, you'll give them a reason to call the police. You'll make it worse for her."
Ethan didn't answer. He turned and walked into his bedroom, slamming the door hard enough to rattle the frames on the wall. He stood in the dark, staring across the gap at the heavy curtains of Annie's window. The rage was coiling in his chest, hot and heavy, but underneath it was a cold, iron-clad resolve.
They could take his jersey, they could take his team, and they could take his "best friend." But if they thought they could take the girl who had breathed his air while he brought her back to life, they were dead wrong.
*~*~*~*~*
[3 Months, 1 Week Home]
The silence of the last three weeks was louder than any argument Ethan had ever had. Every morning, he looked out his window at the impenetrable wall of Annie's dark velvet curtains. At school, it was worse. He'd catch a glimpse of her black hair in the crowded hallway, but she would instantly duck her head, disappearing like a ghost into the sea of students.
He knew she was terrified of Kyson. Her stepbrother had become her shadow, acting as both a chauffeur and a prison guard.
Kyson took a sick pleasure in the power trip, steering Annie to and from the parking lot with a smug, bruised grin that made Ethan's blood simmer at a constant, dangerous boil.
The separation was rotting them both from the inside out. Annie had regressed, the light that had begun to flicker back into her eyes after her birthday had vanished, replaced by a hollow, haunted stare. Even Dylan noticed. He watched his daughter pick at her food in silence, a shell of the girl she was just a month ago. He saw the grief he thought was healing return with a vengeance, but Margaret's voice was always in his ear, reminding him of Kyson's "trauma."
Ethan was changing, too. He didn't just look angry- he looked lethal. He was a man possessed, spending his newfound free time away from the field digging into the Combs' family history. He wasn't just brooding- he was hunting. He knew Kyson was hiding something deep, a reason for the venom he spat at Annie. Ethan just needed the one piece of evidence that would bring the whole house of cards down.
Ethan was at his locker, slamming his books inside with enough force to rattle the metal, when he sensed a familiar, cloying perfume.
"You look like you're ready to kill someone, Ethan," Peggy purred, leaning her shoulder against the locker next to his. She was dressed to the nines, her smile sharp and predatory. "It's been weeks. The 'charity case' has clearly moved on to being a hermit. Why are you still moping?"
Ethan didn't even look at her. "Go away, Peggy."
"Oh, come on. You're single, you're the talk of the school, and you finally ditched the baggage," she continued, her hand sliding down his arm. "I'm right here. I'm not a project, and I don't cry in dark rooms."
Ethan finally turned, his eyes cold and dead. "I said. Go. Away."
Peggy's smile faltered, her ego stung by the bluntness of the rejection. She crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing with a sudden, nasty spark of curiosity. She had seen the way they looked at each other before the fight, she had felt the heat between them.
"God, you're obsessed," she hissed, her voice dripping with malice. "What is it, Ethan? Did you two finally sleep together or something? Is that why you're so wound up? Did she give it up and then realize she couldn't handle the drama, so she dumped you? Is that why you aren't talking?"
The hallway seemed to go silent. The air in Ethan's lungs turned to ice. The image of Annie's vulnerability- the way she had admitted she was a virgin while he held her in his room, clashed violently with Peggy's cheap, disgusting insinuation.
Ethan didn't just snap, he erupted.
He slammed his locker shut with a sound like a gunshot, the metal denting under his fist. He stepped into Peggy's space, his towering frame casting a shadow that made her stumble back against the opposite lockers.
"Don't you ever," Ethan growled, his voice a low, terrifying snarl that made students nearby stop in their tracks. "Don't you ever breathe her name with that trash coming out of your mouth again."
"I-I was just-" Peggy stammered, her face turning pale as she realized she had pushed the wrong button.
"You aren't even on her level," Ethan hissed, his face inches from hers, his eyes flashing with a bold, protective rage. "She has more grace in one tear than you have in your entire body. If I hear you, or anyone else, spreading lies about what we did or didn't do, I will make it my life's mission to ensure you're as miserable as you're trying to make her."
He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper that felt like a blade. "She didn't dump me. And I didn't dump her. We're just waiting. And when the wait is over, you'll be the first person I remind to stay out of our way. Now get out of my sight before I lose what's left of my temper."
Peggy didn't wait. She scrambled away, her heels clicking frantically on the linoleum. Ethan stood there, chest heaving, his knuckles white as he gripped his bag. He looked down the hall and saw Kyson watching from a distance, a smirk on his face.
Ethan didn't look away. He stared Kyson down until the other boy felt the chill and turned his back. The war wasn't over. It was just getting started.