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When I played for the NHL the first time, hockey was all that occupied my mind. During my time in the military, and then in my stint in private security, even though I swore I wouldn’t play the game again, I wasn't able to get the thought of it out of my mind. Later, I agreed to become the captain of the team only so I could take revenge for Diana’s death.
Little did I realize it would not only win me my first championship but also result in my love for the game being overtaken by the love I feel for her. It’s why I told her to leave, after all. So I wouldn’t have to face my feelings for her.
“I’m not admitting anything.” I look between the men. "This is a personal matter."
"Too-fucking-bad," a new voice drawls. I turn to find Edward in the open doorway. He prowls in, followed by JJ, Michael, and Sinclair. The men take up positions, cutting off any hope I might have harbored of making a quick getaway. I look from my team on one side to my friends on the other. "Since when did the lot of you join forces?"
"Since you buried your head up your arse and decided you were going to hide away from the world," Sinclair answers.
"I’m not hiding." I fold my arms across my chest.
"Oh?" JJ glances about the space, then back at me. A flush creeps up my neck. I’m ex-military, for fuck’s sake. And I broke the cardinal rule any serviceman lives by. Tidiness reflects the attention to detail needed to run military operations. I’ve strayed as far as I could from the only other stabilizing force in my life—the military.
A sense of clarity overcomes me with such speed, it's almost a physical blow. I turned my back on everything that created the man I am, because I’m a coward. I’ve been unable to admit I was wrong in holding her responsible for Diana’s suicide. I shouldn't even be holding myself responsible, as Grams told me so many times. Instead, I let that guilt bleed into every aspect of my life. I've held it close to me like a shield. I can’t let myself accept the gut-wrenching impact she had on my life. Can’t bring myself to acknowledge the feelings I have for her.
"You’re the first of my friends I’ve been tempted to shoot at." Michael brushes his fingers against his side.
Is he carrying? Naw, he’s a family man now. True, he’s an ex-Mafia Don, but he gave up his career in crime. Right?I take in his bared teeth and I’m not so sure now.
"This is your last chance to make amends," JJ warns.
I crack my neck. "Whatever you guys are here to tell me, I don’t care."
The men exchange looks, then seem to direct their gazes on Edward.
"What?"
He pulls out his phone, walks over and shows me the screen. It’s a video of her with a man I don’t recognize. They’re engaged in conversation, then he places his hand on her shoulder.
"Motherfucker!"
74
Gio
"You’re wasting your time." I pull my hand out from under my date’s. Violet set me up with him, and I didn’t have the energy to say no. He turned out to be pleasant enough…and polite and boring. There was no connection, no chemistry. And he didn’t try to kiss me goodnight. Which is probably why I agreed when he asked me out again.
Or maybe I’m lonely and miss Rick. Only, he hasn’t called me or texted me. Not once in these three months. And if sometimes, I felt I was being watched, that was only a figment of my imagination, right? Rick has forgotten me. No matter that we're married. It doesn’t mean anything to him. And while he might have been regretful for how he’d made me fall in love with him, all of that was pushed aside when he told me to leave. He didn’t want me in his life.
I've managed to stay off his social media feeds and told Mira and my other London friends not to give me news of him. As a result, I have no idea what he's up to. He’s probably moved on to other women.
He was genuinely broken up at Grams’ death, and without Tiny there to keep him company, he’s definitely turned to someone else for solace. He's probably been fucking the puck-bunnies who lined up outside the dressing room after every game. He didn’t play in the last exhibition match the Ice Kings participated in. I only know this because I chanced upon a news item on my phone. I clicked out of it, but not before the announcer said Rick Mitchell was not playing. Probably too busy with whoever the new woman in his life is. The fact that he's married doesn’t matter to him. I'm nothing, and it’s time I realize that and move on.
"Gio?" My date’s voice cuts through my thoughts.
"Sorry, what did you say, Calvin?"
"It’s Kevin." He regards me with a half-patient, half-frustrated look. "I said, do you want to go dancing tonight?"
"Umm, not really, Devin." I toy with my fork and regard the full plate of food in front of me. The smell of the fish and chips—which I ordered in a fit of nostalgia over my time in London— makes me queasy. I let the fork fall to the plate with a clatter.
"I’m sorry I’m not better company, Levin," I murmur.
His cheeks redden. "My name is Kevin, with a K."
"Isn’t that what I said?" I frown.
"No, you didn’t."
