Chapter 28
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
KOEN
Stretching before our game, I think about the last few days. There’s been breakfast in bed while at the hotel for away games, having Skylar or Rhodes insist on tying my shoes or skates while dressing, and a million other little things.
Not one person has teased them about it, and my pack didn’t get fined for missing an away game. Coach simply lied to the league and said we had food poisoning and that was the end of it.
Pack life is still a mind fuck for me. We just settled in like nothing was wrong, but my mind is still whirling with anxiety. I don’t like that it’s been four days since I was kidnapped and things are still unresolved with my rejection of my bond with Skylar.
I have to keep from whining when I’m around him, a sound I fucking hate to make unless he’s edging me.
My parents are up in the stands with my sister tonight, and I have no idea how I’m going to manage to get through dinner with them after the game. Will they see too much, ask questions we can’t answer because too much is up in the air?
“Koen, get your head out of your ass,” Olsson says, shoving his shoulder into mine as I stand.
“It’s not,” I groan. “Friendly beatings are not on my bucket list. I’m pummeled enough on the ice.”
“You never told me what happened with you, Skylar, and Rhodes,” he says. “Did you fix things?”
“Does it look like I’m going to braid your hair while we gossip and I tell you about the boys I like?” I ask him, shouting when he pushes me.
“Good to know you do like them,” he mutters. “Skylar fucking stuck you with a syringe and then carted you out like a damn baby! I was going out of my mind about it until you magically showed up at the game like nothing happened.”
Thankfully, his voice is low as he hisses at me like a cat, but he’s no less dramatic. Being sedated against my will wasn’t even the wildest thing about that day. I’m not going to tell Olsson this though.
“Imagine being put in time out until you agree to use your words,” I say slowly. “That’s basically what happened but I was tied to a bed during it.”
“Kinky,” Olsson says. “As long as you’re not bear food.”
No, that would be Coach Dan Foster.
“No, I’m alive and well,” I chuckle, skating off the ice to get ready for our entrance.
We’re playing the Boston Ice Picks tonight, and I’m hoping for a shut out.
They haven’t been having a great season, and I wouldn’t be surprised if their owner chose to start fresh next year.
It’ll mean the team will have a few rebuilding years as they find their way, but sometimes that is what’s needed.
Coach keeps me on the bench for the first few minutes of the game, and I use the time to watch my opponents. While I’ve been watching past game tape to study their strengths and weaknesses, I still feel behind.
Declan Galen is the Ice Pick’s forward and an omega. While there aren’t a ton of them in the hockey league, it would be remiss to act as if I’m the only one. Coach Dan Foster definitely leaned hard on me to make me believe all omegas are one step away from being violated in their locker room.
While there are dangers of misconduct, it’s not as prevalent as he made it out to be.
Declan is cycling the puck along the boards to keep possession of it, but he’s about to be in for a rude awakening.
Skylar and Olsson slam into him and kick it away to be picked up by one of our players, and Coach Weightman cheers under his breath as Richards begins rushing it in the other direction.
“He’s not bad,” I say to Coach as I watch.
“He’s a bit green, but he could be really amazing under the right conditions,” he agrees. “I don’t think Boston is going to help that young man’s career though.”
Thinking back to what I know about Declan, I remember he’s in his mid twenties and early on in his career.
“Is he shopping for a new team by chance?” I ask sagely.
“Maybe,” Coach drawls, smirking.
“You wanted to see what I saw,” I realize.
“Get ready,” he says. “You’re going in soon. You have good eyes, and this is your team. I wanted to make sure you recognized the talent I do.”
Nodding, I watch as Richards scores the goal he was going after. The goalie missed that damn biscuit by a mile. Damn, that was embarrassing. The siren blares as our fans scream, and then he’s jumping over the gate and tagging me in.
My skates hit the ice hard as I join my team, and I lose myself to the game. Disassociating from reality is how I’m able to also be completely immersed in the plays. It’s like unfocusing your eyes to find how relaxing it is.
I’m sure a therapist would have plenty to say about this, but my therapy exists between the puck and my stick. When I’m out here, nothing else matters, and all I feel is peace.
I’m not sure if Coach Foster saw any of this when he decided to say what he had to in order to keep me out of the professional hockey scene, but somehow, it fueled my determination even more.
I’m still standing, fighting, and playing, while he’s dead.
The game ends on a shut out, and I make it a point to shake Declan’s hand as the teams line up to offer congratulations.
“Great game,” I grunt, following my teammates off the ice.
“Were you nice to the people we just pummeled into the ice?” Richards teases me.
“I’ll never tell,” I smirk, pulling off my helmet. “Ugh, I hope no one needs me after this. My parents are here tonight.”
“Edna,” Richards drawls as we walk toward the locker room.
She twists around from her seat, working at a table and a phone at her ear as my dog chills at her feet. I think Princess Sunny really likes the chaos around her.
“Don’t put Jeffries, Franz, or Reynolds on the media list,” he says. “Koen’s family is here.”
Edna mouths, “I know,” and then goes back to her call.
“See? She’s on it,” Richards says, pushing me into the locker.
Rolling my eyes, I hurry inside to undress.
“Do we have reservations for dinner?” Rhodes asks, pulling off padding as he strips.
“Shit,” I groan. “I didn’t think of that.”
“I got it,” Skylar says, already pulling out his phone. “The Italian place off 3rd is supposed to be really good.”
“They make their pasta,” Olsson says. “Ugh, now I’m jealous.”
“We’ll take your grandmother there,” Richards says, shaking his head. “He won’t stop talking about it otherwise.”
“Rude,” Olsson mutters, but there’s a smile on his face now. I’m pretty sure those two are just friends, however, I’m also not one to be nosy.
Olsson is the nosy one in our friendship.
Content knowing Skylar has the reservation sorted out, I walk into the shower once my gear is off, making a face once I turn on the water. My anxiety about tonight is riding me hard, and I take a deep breath to try to relax.
Rhodes is next to me, his body soothing as he blocks me from the rest of the room.
“Nervous?” he asks, scrubbing his hair as he shampoos it.
“Very,” I growl. “I love my family, I just always feel awkward when they’re here. They tend to ask me questions I don’t know the answer to.”
“Skylar and I can help field questions for you,” he says. “They seem awesome. Also, if they’re not nice, we’ll bounce. You don’t have to remain in spaces that don’t appreciate you.”
“Okay,” I say, blowing out a breath. “That helps. Again, I’m my own worst enemy. I tend to build shit up in my head.”
The hot water helps the stiffness of my muscles, and by the time I’m done with my shower, I have to remind myself I can’t take a nap.
“We’ll pick up coffee on the way,” Skylar says, glancing at me as he finishes at the showers. He is rushing through his usual routine, and my lips twitch as I nod.
I listen to my teammates as they laugh and talk as I dry off and get dressed. Some of them are going out, others are ready for a night in.
“I overheard that Coach is considering wooing Galen over to us after the season is over,” Olsson says, leaning toward me as I zip up my pants.
“I think he’s got some growing to do,” I offer. I don’t want to talk out of turn, so I pretend to know less than I do. “There were mistakes he shouldn’t have made.”
“That’s what I thought too, but Boston won’t be able to help him do that,” Olsson says. “We’ll see where the puck falls. Have fun with your parents.”
“Thanks,” I say with a smile.
Skylar turns me around to begin to fix the buttons on my shirt, and I can’t help but chuckle.
“Is anyone else taking notes on how to treat an omega?” Richards yells out.
“I am and I don’t even have one!” someone replies.
My cheeks heat as Skylar winks at me. He came in during my conversation, and immediately jumped in to help me. It doesn’t matter that I can do it myself, he’s simply taking care of me. I’ve noticed he does the same to Rhodes.
The three of us finish dressing, and say goodbye to whoever is left in the locker as we head out. I texted my mother while I was getting ready, and I meet her in the visitor area.
Grinning, she gives me a hug, and I squeeze her back. She’s a tiny woman next to my father, and once I hit my peak weight, I found myself being careful whenever I embraced her.
“You had a great game,” Dad says, giving me a grin and a side hug.
“Thanks. I had a feeling it might go our way,” I explain.
I introduce everyone as I hug my sister last, and then explain the plan for dinner.
“Food sounds good,” Mom admits. “I didn’t know if you’d have time.”
Ugh. I know she didn’t mean it that way, but shots were definitely fired. It’s my own fault for always rushing away.
“Nope, we’re clear,” I reply. “The PR manager made sure I wouldn’t have to talk to anyone. We just have to take our puppy home first.”
“You have a puppy?” Mom asks, surprised.
“She came home with Rhodes one day,” I tease, glancing up to find Edna walking toward us with Princess Sunny.
Edna refuses to let us pay anyone when we have home games. She says that for some reason, people act better whenever they know she has a puppy with her. I’m not going to argue with that kind of logic, and I appreciate how much she adores Princess.