Chapter Forty-One
Gwen
I finished up my accounting work, well aware that the MASO chat was exploding on my phone, with questions about what to wear tonight to the party. Also, ire that I hadn’t answered questions about my donut proposal, since I’d been off my phone and social media for most of yesterday.
Last night when Tens and Clark were cheerfully quibbling over who got which of my holes, I’d wondered if something else I’d read in that rodeo romance was true. Well, for betas. I’d heard enough omega sex-talk growing up to know they could handle it just fine.
But who did I ask? Usually, the hockey locker room was my go-to for sex questions. I was still banned from practice, because of that stupid censure and was feeling like a chaos gremlin.
Opening the book app on my phone, I screen-shot the passage, then dropped it in the MASO group chat with my question. Okay, I just circled bits and wrote possible for betas? Then I silenced the group chat.
Let them stew on that. I texted Clark and asked him to bring me coffee and a muffin, because I was hungry. JP had asked me to cover for him this morning, because he had something to do.
Clocking out, I went upstairs and changed. When I got down to the ice, Clark waited for me, a coffee and muffin in hand.
“Hey, Sweetness.” Clark kissed my forehead, and I leaned into him, gobbling my muffin with ferocity, and chugging my coffee.
“Hungry, Mariquita?” Carlos laughed, skating in circles around me.
“Is that enough food?” Dimitri frowned at me.
“For now, yes.” I rolled my eyes, skated over to the side and put my empty cup down. I’d go upstairs and get food later.
Coach Kirov joined me. “I know you’re not okay. We’re here.”
“Thanks.” I was just glad I hadn’t lost the Knights.
“Kylee gave quite the press conference yesterday. That the NACA could come down on development programs without notice is disconcerting,” Coach told me.
“You know it’s not that. It’s me. Or Ty would also be censured.” Which he hadn’t.
Coach Kirov shrugged. “It makes for a good angle. Also, the skate smashers are livid, because discovery leagues are a huge part of their program.”
Good. Because skate smashers didn’t play.
“Do we get angry Gwen today?” Castle teased. “She’s a beast on the ice.”
“Maybe.” I grinned. It would feel good to get my aggression out. Kylee had also brought up Austin being convicted, and the double standard of him being allowed to play.
“Firecracker.” Tenzin came onto the ice. He grabbed my hand and started skating fast, then he pulled me to him and spun me around, making me giggle, which was possibly the point.
Clark joined us, and we joked around until Coach Atkins arrived.
“Come on, we have a lot to do before the game tomorrow,” he yelled, “let’s get to work.”
“Let’s.” One thing I never shied from was putting in the work.
I went to the dining room to grab some lunch before we reviewed game footage. Food in hand, I stood before the picture of Maria Barilla and sighed, wondering what she thought of all this.
“Are you still doing okay?” Constantine came into the dining room. “You have a lot going on. Can I do anything to help?”
I shook my head. “I’m hanging in there.”
“Okay. Let me know if I can help. You’re related to the Russo pack, right? I seem to remember that. Mr. Longfellow was mumbling something about not realizing who you were when he came to get his things,” he told me.
“They’re my nonna’s neighbors. Mia told people I was her niece sometimes, when her dad was still equipment manager for the Knights and she wanted to get me special privileges at games.” I took a sip of my coffee. “I actually met Mr. Longfellow when I was little.”
Constantine nodded. “Privileges? Like getting to chase the mascot around the ice?” He pulled up a video on his phone. “Is that you?”
I was nine, and wearing hot pink, glittery figure skates, as I chased Nat the Knight around the ice, in a little skit, where I’d pretended to be sleeping and he’d stolen my Christmas tree and I’d tried to get it back. This was back when Nat was more of an errant knight, not a noble one.
“I’d forgotten about that.” It had been a rare Christmas Eve game, and one of the few years my family had spent it with Nonna’s pack.
“What are we watching?” Dean came over and rested his arm on my head.
“Me.” I grinned as the ice cheerleaders, which they still had back then, came on to the ice to help me get my tree back. It ended with a giant net of lights coming down over the arena and it rained tiny plushies.
Dean grinned. “That’s too fucking cute.”
“Are you officially the GM now?” I asked Constantine.
He shook his head. “Acting again. Which I’m fine with.”
“Was the owner okay with Mr. Longfellow stepping down?” I frowned. They were good friends.
“The Daughtry family’s not the majority owner anymore. The rumors of old Mr. Daughtry giving away so many bits of the Knights, to different people to pay off his debts, is true. Someone bought them all up and now the family no longer holds the majority share.” His voice became soft. “The new owner was pretty content to be quiet while I assessed things. But we’ll see how things go.”
Huh.
“Are there going to be major changes?” I asked. Like getting rid of my program.
He shook his head. “Probably not, except perhaps more open-mindedness and a little less, but we’ve always done it that way. ”
“Not necessarily a bad thing,” I agreed. “I vote for bringing back the cheerleaders. Does this go for the Maimers, too?”
“The grandkids own the Maimers. They took the money their grandfather gave them to invest, pooled it, and brought a skate smash franchise to New York after the original one left. Must be nice,” he grinned.
“I hope what I said, along with Kylee’s press conference, and the statements from other teams with our program help,” Constantine added.
“I do, too. Thank you,” I told him.
“Come on, we have work to do.” Dean grinned and grabbed some food from the lunch buffet set up for us all.
Food in hand, Dean and I went into the small conference room, which was so empty.
“Can we help?” Dean gave me a big hug.
“I’m okay.” This was what I needed right now. A hug.
“Verity wants to know if you’re ever going to answer the group chat?” Dean grinned, checking his phone.
“Yeah, I should do that.” I skimmed the chat and started laughing so hard I almost fell out of the chair.
“Do I want to know?” Dean took a sip of his drink.
“Your mate literally gave me the book. I just asked the group chat if it was something that betas could do. Though I was asking if not how. Tegan made animations.” I snorted as I continued scrolling. “Oh, Muriel used action figures.”
Dean started laughing. “Amazing.”
I continued reading the earnest answers, which all pretty much said, Yes, a beta can take two hot dogs in one bun, but probably not with a side of knots. Good to know.
“Have you seen Ty’s video?” Dean finally asked.
“Do I want to?” I replied to the group chat and put my phone down. I’d read more later.
“Yes.” Dean scooted closer to me and pulled it up.
Ty said that if I was being censured for being an EBUG and playing in a game, and working for the Squires, then he should as well–and that if they didn’t, this was a bullshit charge, because I was a beta.
Again, not the reason for the censure. But I saw what they were doing. People might not care that the Deloittes were trying to ruin me. People did care about things like targeting betas–and going after the EBUGs.
“Wow. I… I’m surprised he did that. I didn’t think he had the balls,” I replied.
“I’m trying to use my power for good.” Ty frowned a little as he came in, Arden behind him, food in hand. “I also made one, saying that Bronson, and his brothers, should be treated like Carson and the others and not get special treatment just because their family owns a team.”
“I appreciate it,” I replied. “It’s a good thing when alphas stick up for people and help right wrongs.”
While the Gears liked to think everything was a misunderstanding , social media wasn’t thrilled with Austin. My old neighbor had also casually dropped the doorbell video of him attacking me in the hallway the night we broke up.
“You don’t follow him on social media, do you?” Ty took a bite of sandwich.
“Um, no. ” I snorted, as I dug into my own.
“His omega’s account is dramady. She’s been boohooing, because she doesn’t get a custom Vecci mating gown.” Arden’s eyes rolled.
“I know. Damien is hooked on that saga.” Ty laughed. “I didn’t even know you could get a big, fancy, fashion company to make you your own custom dress.”
“Honestly, I feel like she’s not even important enough.” Arden snickered.
Burn.
“My dads won my mom a custom gown in a card game back when they were courting. I wore it to the championship cup dinner,” I replied.
“Amazing,” Arden replied.
Dean blinked. “That’s the story of the dress? AJ had been wondering.”
I nodded. “I told him about it at the dinner.”
“Verity wore a designer dress for her wedding, but it wasn’t custom and she’d modeled it on a runway.” Dean had some sort of shrimp and spinach pasta that smelled like it needed more garlic.
Ty swallowed his bite and picked up his phone. “Last night he posted this.”
I couldn’t get used to my ex with blond hair. His hair had been blue for most of the time he was at UNYC. However, he was wearing the fucking gaiter.
“Hey, so I know a lot of you have questions about the police report and the video and everything. I might have to take this down, because people don’t want me to talk about this, but I need to set things right. First, don’t say mean shit about Gwen, because victim blaming is not okay,” he told the camera. “She’s a great person. None of this is her fault.”
He looked like he was in a bedroom. It was done up in his favorite colors, a UNYC pennant on the wall, along with a Gears’ one.
“I’m not proud of the night we broke up. Honestly, I was so drunk I don’t remember most of it,” he admitted. “While I learned my actions sent her to the hospital, I didn’t know until the report was released that there even was a police report. Or a restraining order. Or that the police couldn’t find me. Certainly, I didn’t leave New York and change my name back to avoid them.” Pain flickered through his eyes as his hand raked his hair.
But that’s exactly what it looked like to a lot of people.
“I’m accepting responsibility for what I did and taking the punishments the court decided. I’m not appealing, even though my family wants me to. Also, I’m going on leave from my team, while I take anger management, do community service, and get myself right. In addition, I’ll be donating money to a domestic violence organization that works with betas. Anyhow, I regret what happened that night, and the harm I caused, and I know this doesn’t redeem me,” he added.
I paused the video. “Damn right none of this redeems him. Fuckballs. His family is going to shit raccoons. Though he could use those anger management classes.”
A lot of it also felt like a show. This is what rich people did. Throw some money at a charity. Do the volunteer-work apology tour. Then go right back to their regularly scheduled bullshit.
“No, it doesn’t,” Dean agreed. “Might save his career, though, which could be why he’s doing it.”
“True.” I unpaused it. Unfortunately, rich people did this shit, because oftentimes it worked.
The video continued. “I know you all have a ton of questions, and I’m sorry I can’t answer them. She didn’t take advantage of me, I wronged her .” Austin’s head bowed again. “I’ll learn from this. Also, thank you, Ris, for being by my side, I couldn’t get through this without your support.”
It ended. “Wow.”
Still unredeemable, though. All the apologies and volunteering in the world wouldn’t fix what he did to me.
“Yeah, it made me realize that the Deloittes must have gotten mad that he turned himself in, and then had the NACA censure you,” Ty added.
“That’s exactly what happened,” I told him.
“You have a lot of support online. People are pushing the Gears to suspend all three of them. It’s clear they tried to run you and Clark off the road on purpose,” Ty said. “They’ve lost sponsors, too.”
“The people who made the maroon skates told him to never wear them in a game again,” Dean added.
“Thanks for filling in for me this morning, Ladybug.” JP walked in with his lunch. He sat down at the table and threw a bunch of bags of buttons at my head. “I surprised Celine at the airport. She’s in for the party tonight.”
Ty frowned. “The party’s not tonight.”
“The MASO party. You bringing a pony?” JP dug into his chicken pasta.
“Atty made a no animals or snowmobile rule.” I rolled my eyes. “I almost got a jet ski.”
Coach Kirov came in, Coach Dodd behind him. “Alright, let’s get to work.”