35. Choice
35
Choice
Exton
I still don’t understand how she talked me into this. But she’s definitely the reason I am now walking through the halls of my old training facility.
And fuck, it feels good. It feels right to be back. It feels old and familiar but also so much better than before because now I’m walking in here with freedom in my chest. I’m walking in with the knowledge that there is at least one person out there who will be genuinely happy to see me on that ice.
It feels good to finally be rid of all the anger, grief, and confusion. It feels good to know that my father tried to change. That he wanted to be a part of my life. Sure, what’s done is done, but in a strange way where I got the closure I needed.
A second later, I step into the rowdy locker room that quiets down with a speed of a flying puck as my frame shows.
“Dude, is it just me or is there an Exton Quinn size hallucination at the door,” one of our youngest guys, Abel Zlatan murmurs, elbowing Fooley in the side as he winces but doesn’t hit back.
I roll my eyes.
“I see him too. What did you eat this morning? We must’ve been poisoned,” Fooley says back because those two have always been the clowns of the team.
“You two done yet?”
“Agh,” Abel shrieks, grabbing his friend’s arm. “The hallucination talks!”
“Idiots.” Sava steps behind them, slapping them both up their idiot heads and pushes through toward me with a beaming smile.
“Axe.” He throws his arms around me in a genuine hug, and I slap his back in return. “You’re back?” he asks, sounding hopeful, and I nod.
“Thank God! I was going to come over last night and drag you here if I had to but…something came up,” he says cryptically, and I don’t miss the sudden nervousness in his body language.
Interesting…I’ll dig into this later but for now I embrace his welcome.
I knew my friend would welcome me back even if I was a serial killer, that’s just the guy he is, but it’s the rest of my teammates I’m eyeing.
If they don’t want me back, I’m out. It’s not a team when you have to be forced to play together. That’s not a united front against those fuckers who want to see the Outlaws’ blood on that ice.
A beat passes before none other than Fooley groans with elation. “Fucking finally!”
My brows hit my hairline. He’s the last person who should want me back. It’s his spot on the lineup I’ll be taking, yet here he is pulling me into a bro hug.
And one by one they all follow his lead. Every one of my teammates smiles at me, slaps my back, and laughs at my stunned expression.
“I think we broke him.” Abel chuckles. “Or maybe he’s going soft in his old age and from all that time he spent in Iris Lake.”
“Your arms are too weak to break me, golden boy,” I shoot back with the nickname he hates. The guy is too pretty and too polished, hence the nickname. “They could barely hold the stick at the last game. How do you plan to handle me?” The room erupts in laughter.
“Nope, still the same grouchy fucker we remember. It’s good to have you back, man,” another teammate hollers.
“Ha-ha,” Abel scoffs playfully. “I bet I could still take you. I mean, your girlfriend is much smaller than me and by the looks of it she has your balls in an iron grip.”
Fire flashes through my eyes, my body gearing up to fight whoever disrespects my girl, but Sava interrupts me.
“Jesus Christ.” Severin chuckles, punching the kid’s shoulder. “Can you think before you speak for once in your life? That man is about to break every bone in your body because you made it sound like you were making fun of his girl.”
Abel’s green eyes widen when he does a double take on my stance and narrowed eyes.
“Whoa, whoa.” He backs up, both his hands in front of him. “I did not mean it like that. It was a compliment. You know, someone so small but still took down the mighty Axe. How did she even do it? You had so many girls and it’s this one who’s captured you.”
I let out a low growl, taking a step toward him and Abel squeaks. Literally, and I lift my eyebrow at him as he hides behind a laughing Fooley.
“Zlatan, you really need to see someone for that filter. How do you always manage to make things worse with your mouth?”
“It’s a talent,” Abel mumbles, still eyeing me. “I swear, I like the girl. She’s hot. No, wait, I didn’t mean it like—I’m not hitting on her. Just that she’s beautiful. I swear, I swear.”
“Golden boy?”
“Yes, Mr. Axe.”
“Shut up.”
“Mm-hmm, will do.” The silence lasts all of two seconds. “Does she have a sister?”
The room dissolves in laughter again as Abel throws out confused glances and says, “What? Why are you laughing, fuckers? I’m ready to settle down.”
“Sure,” we say in a chorus.
The practice goes off without a hitch. We settle into our usual line up as if I didn’t miss a shit-ton of games. As if I wasn’t the angry asshole I was the whole season. It feels just like before but better. So much better. My chest tightens with the crushing feeling inside. It’s impossible to have it all, is it?
Something is bound to crash and burn because I can’t have it this good. I can’t be this happy.
“Maybe I should beat you up, Quinn.” I stop when I hear the annoying voice from this morning again. Why is he everywhere all of a sudden?
“What the fuck do you want, Shishkov?” I resume walking. If he wants to talk, he can follow me. As he does.
“I want you to let her go.” He reaches me fast since he’s not in the full hockey gear I have on, pulling on my arm to face him.
I snort, slapping his scrawny fingers away. “Are you drunk? In what universe do you think I care about what you want?”
Erik glares at me, his whole body vibrating with anger I not so long ago felt myself.
See what not having the magic that Electra Monroe is in your life does to a person. And the fucker thinks I’ll give her up. Ha!
“And what about what she wants? Hmm?”
“What about it?” I narrow my eyes at him, and he sneers.
“You can’t be that dense and not see that she’s not coming back to skate with me because of you!” He jabs a finger into my chest and if I wouldn’t see it, I’d never feel it. “Winning the Olympics was her whole life. That’s what she worked for and the only way she’ll get it is if we go there together like we planned.”
“Really now? So, where were you a few months ago? Where were you when that dream of hers went up in flames because of you?” I get into his face and he immediately retreats.
“I fucked up! I know that and I regret it. What do you want? For me to get on my knees and thank you for getting her walking again?”
I give him a blank stare because there’s nothing I want from this asshole. He regrets it … I start to feel my blood hum with rage and thirst to punch his face until he knows what real regret feels like. But I’m a changed man and all that so, I turn around and start walking again.
“She’ll resent you,” he calls after me. “Eventually, she’ll resent you because you took away her dream.”
“Funny, I was under the impression that you did.”
“But now I want to give it back to her and you are the one in the way. I want her back.”
My fist meets his gut before he can finish that stupid sentence.
Sorry, little star, maybe I’m not that all changed yet .
Erik doubles over, gasping for air. “You…you…”
I grab a chunk of his hair and pull him up from his crouching position.
“She’s not a fucking thing to want or not want. She’s not a toy you throw away when it’s broken, you fucker! And if I hear you talk about her like that again, I’ll do much worse than just a punch.”
“Fuck, man, what did she do to you in that cabin? I know she can’t suck a cock that good to turn you into her own lap dog, so what was it?”
Another punch lands squarely on his jaw, it would send him flying back if I didn’t hold him, yet his mouth opens with a bitter laugh.
“You can punch me all you want but you can never give her what I can. You’ll never make her a true champion. You love her? Is that it?” He smirks through a grimace. “Will you be able to live with that? To wake up every morning and know she missed out on her chance because of you,” he spits out, and I let go off his hair with a shove.
Erik stumbles back and huffs out a dry laugh. “Let her go. You are not one to settle down with a girl like her. You had a nice little time with her, played around, did what you wanted, now let her go.”
I’m advancing toward him before I can think it through, only fueled by the rage he awoke in me and I’m almost on him when someone takes a hold of me from the back, pulling me away.
“Walk away, Axe,” Severin grunts. “That piece of shit is not worth it.”
It takes me a few seconds to process his words, my lip curls but I take a step back.
“Get out of my face and make sure I’ll never see you again. For your own good.” My tone is low and threatening and it must be enough to finally get him moving but not without a last word.
“Think about it. We leave for Colorado tomorrow.”
By the time I get back to Iris Lake it’s close to midnight. I’m tired as fuck, my muscles screaming in agony from the grueling workout after such a long break. Mind you, I trained all this time but it’s never the same if you are not on that ice.
Only it’s not the agony in my muscles that hurts the most.
It’s that fucker’s words because I know they are true.
Not about me settling down. He knows fuck all about that but it’s what he said about holding her back that keep replaying in my head.
I park my car in the driveway and just sit there. The lights inside the house are still on and I know Electra is waiting for me. She called about twenty minutes ago, telling me just that and I loved receiving that phone call. The thought of having her waiting for me at home made the torturous three-hour drive back and forth worth it but how much longer can we keep this up?
Am I holding her back from what she could be doing?
I know I need her. But does she need me? Or am I holding her back? Just the other day I made her promise to be there for my every game. How could I ask that of her, knowing she has her own career to follow?
My head hits the headrest as my mouth fills with sour taste of hatred. I’m selfish. So damn selfish.
But the single thought of letting her go poisons me.
What the fuck am I supposed to do…
I open the front door and just before I am about to call out her name, I spot my little bundle of angry elf cuddled on the couch with her thick blanket sleeping peacefully. Her bangs falling over her fluttering eyelashes, those soft pink lips slightly puckered and parted as her face is smushed against the armrest.
A replay of the first Thor movie still playing on the computer she set on the coffee table. I crouch on the floor by her side, one side of my mouth smiling softly. She fell in love with that fucker like I knew she would, and now Electra has watched Thor at least five times.
I bring my hand to her soft hair, brushing it off her face gently as I watch my girl.
What do I do, mom? I silently ask, but before an answer magically comes through, Electra stirs, waking up.
“Heyyy,” she rasps out, a content smile spreading over her features as she grabs my hand and presses it to her mouth, kissing it. “My famous boyfriend is home.”
I chuckle. “And here I thought you were keeping my ego in check.”
“I can handle you and your big ego.” She sure can. “How was your practice?” Electra stretches out with a yawn.
“It was good. Great.” She pops one eye open.
“Good. Great. That’s all I get?”
I slump back against the coffee table. “It was like I never left. It was so fucking amazing, Electra, I’m still high from it. I missed it,” I admit quietly, and she reaches out, squeezing my hand.
“Of course, you did. You were born for it.”
I tilt my head to the side; does she miss it too? What’s the next step for her? Sure, we goof around the ice, she practices every day with Stella but that’s all.
“And you? Do you miss performing on professional level?”
“I do. Come on, let’s go to bed, you have a big day tomorrow.” Electra gets up from the couch pulling me along with her.
I trail after her mindlessly because all my thoughts are a mess, a jungle of questions and doubts.
I know I love her. I know I need her. But does she need me?
Electra leaves to the bathroom and I hear the shower running but in a blink of an eye she’s already stepping out, a towel wrapped around her gorgeous, glistening body, her hair in a high messy bun but the low strands are dripping water.
She’s absolute perfection. An angel and I can’t help but feel like it’s one I’m keeping in a cage.
“Baby, why are you still dressed?” She frowns when she sees me sitting on the edge of the bed.
Am I? I didn’t even notice.
Electra notices something on my face because her posture softens as she steps up, standing in between my parted legs and her fingers run over my face, smoothing out the frown lines I must be wearing.
“You must be so tired. I’m sorry you had to make that drive home. I promise we’ll figure out all the logistics soon. I can get a place in Boston to stay close to you.” Her smile is hopeful and maybe even excited at the same time as a huge boulder drops into my gut.
There she goes, making accommodations for me again without a single thought for herself. She’s thinking about what will make me happy, what will be easier for me, not her.
My mind is reeling, and I don’t even notice that her hand has lowered, now trailing over my quickly hardening dick because no matter what state I’m in, he seems to be ready to go whenever she’s in his vicinity.
But I stop her hand with mine.
Electra frowns. “I promise, I’ll just relax you and that’s it. You don’t have to do any work.”
Goddamnit. There it is again.
I jump off the bed so fast, the force of it makes her stumble back.
“Exton?” Electra asks. I can hear the confusion in her voice as I pace around the room, my hands fisting my hair.
“Baby, what’s wrong? What happened? Talk to me.”
“You miss skating.” It’s a fact, not a question as if the realization is hitting me all at once from every side.
“Um, I skate every day.” She looks at me with her brows drawn together.
“You know what I mean. You miss competing. You miss being out there, getting ready for Olympics.”
Electra looks at me for a few beats, her shoulders slumping a little bit. “Of course, I do. It was my life for as long as I could remember. But I don’t understand why we are talking about it now.” I nod, acknowledging her but I don’t answer, instead I take my phone out and look up flights.
A few clicks and it’s done. It’s done before I can think about it. Done before she can talk me out of it. Done before my greedy need for her overrides sane thought.
I lift my eyes up from the screen, desperately hoping she can’t read me like her personal diary. Just this once, I need the thread broken.
“You’re going to Colorado tomorrow.”
Electra
“I’m sorry, what?” I’m sure I must’ve misheard him right now because Exton did not just say those words with the force of a whip, slashing me in half.
“You’re going to Colorado. Your flight leaves tomorrow at noon.”
“I’m not going to Colorado! What are you talking about? Wait, is it for your game? I thought it was a home one.” Did they change the schedule in the last minute?
Aren’t they playing Florida, though?
I’m so confused.
“No, my game is still here. But yours is in Colorado.”
I eye him for a solid minute, running my tongue over my teeth. “Did you catch a puck to the head, Exton? Is that it?”
He huffs out a humorless sigh. “I wish.”
Okay, I’m done with these riddles. Hastily, I walk over right into his chest, the heat and vibrations coming from him shooting straight through me and a sense of fear laced with furry courses my blood. “Explain what’s going on, please.”
Exton’s whiskey eyes fix on mine for a beat before he swallows hard, looks down and away from me. “You need to be in Colorado right now. That’s what you’ve worked for your whole life, and I won’t let you give this up because of me.”
Give what up?
I blink. “Wait, is this about Erik and what he said today?”
“It’s not about him. It’s about you getting back on that Olympic ice with him as your partner.”
Yeah, definitely a puck to the head.
Wait, no, scratch that. Two or even three pucks to the head.
I take a step toward him but freeze, my eyes wide when he steps back, avoiding any contact with me. “Exton.” My voice gains a pleading note because I’m still so confused about this.
Where is this insanity coming from?
He’s back to pacing, ripping his hair out the back of his head and I’m fighting the cold shiver threatening to take over my body.
“I’ve been selfish. Demanding you be there for me and it’s not fair to you. You don’t owe me anything, Electra. You shouldn’t sacrifice anything for me and take what belongs to you. Go out there, win every medal there is to win and do what you were born to do.”
“Exton,” I try again but he doesn’t let me get a word in.
“No. Don’t try to make any excuses for me right now. I did what I was supposed to. Now, you don’t need me anymore.”
“Are you…are you breaking up with me?” My voice cracks mid-sentence as do his eyes when he finally looks up at me again, but the emotion quickly disappears, hiding behind one of those walls he used to have all around himself.
“Yes…” The newly formed ice, cracks again. But then he throws out, “Wait, no…I don’t know what I’m doing.” He throws his hands up and I swallow the tears that were about to burst free. “No, that’s a lie too. I know what I want but I don’t think I’ve ever given you the chance to think about what you want.” His voice sounds defeated and it breaks me. “I bulldozed my way into your life, demanding your love but never once asking if that was what you needed.”
I want to scream, to throw something at him, to kick him so hard all of the lose marbles set back in his head but once again, he doesn’t let me, already retreating back toward the front door.
“I’ll go back to the city. Give you some space away from me and I hope you have a safe flight. I’ll send all the details to your email shortly, okay?” He clears his throat. “Go get them, little star.” Exton gazes into my eyes one last time before a whiff of cold spring air fills the room, carrying him out.
And just like that he shuts the door behind himself all while I’m still standing here, wearing only a towel that does nothing to hide my once again broken heart.
I stare at the small screen of my phone, looking over the email that just dropped into my inbox.
Flight details:
BOS (Logan Intl.) – DEN (Denver Intl.)
4h 51m, nonstop.
12:05pm, Departure.
Carry on included.
1st checked back – paid.
He even paid for my checked bag. How nice of him. I keep staring at it until the letters turn blurry and I realize my eyes are rimmed with tears.
The house is coated in darkness I lived in not so long ago. It’s quiet and still and dead and the reminder of those times is a gut punch.
What was a warm and safe place just an hour ago no longer seems like a place I want to be.
But what do I want to be?
Is Exton right? Was he holding me back from going back to the life I knew?
I’ve spent four years preparing for that one moment, for that one path. We’ve practiced until there wasn’t a single dry spot on us, sacrificing more than one could imagine, always keeping our eyes on the prize. On that gold medal over our necks and now I’m looking the other way.
Now, I have something in my life I’m not sure I’m willing to sacrifice. But is that right?
I toss and turn the whole night, my mind running in every wild direction from pissed off to lost to desperate and finally determined.
He made his choice.
And I guess now I’ll make mine.
Time to pack a bag.