18. Simon
The pounding on the front door rattles the picture frames on the wall.
Cameras keep flashing through the cracks in the blackout curtains, lighting up the living room walls.
It sounds like a total riot outside. Over a dozen people stand out there screaming over each other, demanding a statement and yelling garbage through the glass.
The sweet scent of her lavender sours with panic, making the room hard to breathe in.
Wally stands by the entryway with his massive arms wrapped around Vayda. He tucks her face into his chest to block out the screaming from the porch. She grips his shirt, shaking and crying. She thinks she ruined us. She believes that garbage article from The Sin Bin Insider.
I’m so pissed I clench my jaw. Everything in me wants to rip the front door open and go off on those vultures.
I walk over to Brendan. His wheelchair sits parked in the middle of the room next to a tray table with his water cup.
His hands twitch in his lap, and he hums without a pause.
The noise from the yard is way too much for him.
I crouch down, adjust his noise-canceling headphones to make sure they seal tight over his ears, and force a smile.
Brendan blinks at me. His humming slows down, and he leans his head back against the headrest.
Kel paces the hallway. He rolls his broad shoulders and cracks his jaw, clenching and unclenching his fists. He smells like raw aggression right now. He marches toward the front door and reaches for the deadbolt.
I step in front of him, shoving a hand against his chest to push him back.
"I'm going to smash their cameras." Kel glares at the thick wood.
"That's what they want." I keep my hand flat against his chest. "You hit someone out there, the League will suspend you. They will just spin the footage and make us look like violent thugs going after innocent journalists."
"They called her a puck bunny." Kel steps into my space. "They called her a cradle robber. I'll break their jaws."
"We need a plan." Wally meets my eyes over Vayda's head. His voice stays scary calm. "PR wants us to stay quiet so they can put out some sanitized press release tomorrow morning."
"I'm getting the local police here to clear the grass." Wally pulls his cell phone from his pocket. He taps the screen three times and lifts the device to his ear.
The idea of letting corporate suits defend our family makes me sick. PR statements always look weak, like we are apologizing. The media out there will just chop up whatever we write and twist it for the tabloids anyway. They want us hiding. They want Vayda feeling ashamed.
"Screw PR." I pull my phone out of my jeans pocket. "We handle this right now."
Wally watches me and raises an eyebrow. He talks to the dispatch operator in a low murmur, giving them the address.
"Get in the middle of the room." I wave Kel away from the door. "Bring her over here. Keep her and Brendan behind us so the camera just sees us."
Kel nods, standing in the middle of the rug and crossing his arms.
Wally walks Vayda over to the sofa, kisses the top of her head, and steps up next to Kel. They stand shoulder to shoulder, forming a solid wall.
I unlock my phone, ignoring the text notifications and missed calls from our agent. I open my official social media page. We have millions of followers who check in for game updates and locker room jokes. Tonight, they get a reality check.
The media thinks they have the upper hand. They think leaking a story means they own us. But they underestimate the Canval Reapers. We are used to pressure. We handle fights on the ice all the time, and we can handle this one right here in our living room.
I step up beside Wally and frame the shot to get the three of us. I angle the phone high so the background is just the ceiling and a blank wall, making sure Vayda and Brendan stay out of the frame. Their privacy is the priority.
My thumb hovers over the button. The crowd outside chants Vayda's name, demanding she come out. They want to tear her down just for being with three younger Alphas.
"Ready?" I look between the two of them.
Kel nods. Wally sets his jaw.
I tap the screen.
The red icon flashes in the corner of the screen.
The viewer count ticks upward in a blur of changing numbers.
Five hundred. Ten thousand. Fifty thousand.
The numbers climb at a dizzying speed. The fans are awake.
They wait for a response to the article.
The comments section turns into a scrolling waterfall of text.
I stare into the camera lens.
"My name is Simon Clark." I keep my voice steady, even with the anger simmering just beneath the surface.
"You all know Wally Nelson and Kel Lars.
We play for the Reapers. Tonight you read a garbage article on a tabloid site and many of you have opinions and are attacking a woman without all the information. "
The viewer count hits one hundred thousand.
"Right now, there is a mob of paparazzi standing on a residential lawn." I point my thumb toward the window. "They are banging on windows. They are terrorizing a home for no other reason than baseless claims from gossip trash."
Kel shifts his weight. His presence fills the space beside me.
"The Sin Bin Insider called Vayda Moore a burnt-out widow. They called her a puck bunny.” I let the disgust coat my words.
“Let me make this crystal clear for every single person watching.
Vayda Moore is our Omega. She is our scent match.
We submitted our compatibility blood tests to the League this morning. "
The last part is a white-lie, but it will happen sooner rather than later.
The scrolling comments freeze for a fraction of a second. The internet absorbs the confession. Then the chat swells. The text moves so fast it becomes a white blur.
"We pursued her." I lean closer to the phone. "Not the other way around. She honors the memory of her late mates every single day. She built a life based on loyalty and resilience. We begged her to let us in."
I feel Vayda watching us from the sofa. The scent of her distress begins to fade. A warm note of awe replaces the bitter fear. Her scent wraps around my senses. It fuels the fire in my blood.
"You think an age gap matters to us?" I scoff. "You think a few years changes the truth? She is our scent matched Omega. We plan to spend the rest of our lives taking care of her and Brendan. He is also part of our family and we will do anything for him."
Wally steps forward. He fills the right side of the screen. His expression is cold. The playful center the fans know is gone.
"To the people standing on our lawn." Wally speaks with a low rumble. "You have five minutes to get off the grass. The local police are on their way. We plan to file trespassing charges. We will pursue severe legal consequences against anyone who publishes unauthorized photos of this house."
Wally stares into the lens. The intensity in his eyes promises violence.
"You want a scandal?" Wally asks. "There is no scandal. We love her. We claim her. If any publication prints another word slandering her name, my lawyers will bankrupt your company. This will not effect us winning the Alpha Cup. We plan to win, and she motivates us more than you will ever know."
Kel leans in from the left.
"Get off our property." Kel snarls. "Before I go out there and remove you myself."
I pull the phone back. I frame the three of us one last time. A united front. The League will lose their minds over this broadcast. The PR department will have a collective heart attack. The Canval Reapers’ first-line just bypassed the entire corporate machine.
"We bleed for this city on the ice, and we will bleed for our Omega. Do not test us."
I hit the button to end the broadcast. The screen goes dark. The recording saves to my profile. The raw footage is out in the world. There is zero room for the tabloids to twist our words. We laid our cards on the table for the entire world to see.
I let out a long breath. My lungs burn. The adrenaline spikes in my veins. My hands shake from the lingering need to fight. I slide the phone back into my pocket.
The three of us stand in the center of the room. The silence inside the house stretches out. The banging on the front door outside falters. A few voices yell in confusion. The paparazzi check their phones. They watch the broadcast.
Within minutes, the video is all over the internet. My phone buzzes in my pocket with notifications. Soon every sports platform, gossip blog, and fan account will share the clip. We are the top story everywhere. The situation shifted from a leak to a massive headache.
Outside the window, the chaotic chanting breaks apart.
Flashing red and blue lights cut through the night. The glare bleeds through the cracks in the blackout curtains. The strobe effect changes from camera flashes to police sirens. Local cruisers pull up to the curb. Car doors slam. Static crackles from a police radio over the noise of the crowd.
A police officer lifts a megaphone to his mouth. "Move back! Clear the property!"
The knocking stops. Footsteps trample the porch as the crowd of over a dozen people retreats. The news vans start their engines. The officers force the paparazzi off the grass and back onto the public sidewalk. The crowd clears out.
The adrenaline drains from my system in a rush. Weak knees send me dropping onto the sofa beside Vayda. Resting elbows on my thighs, I drag my hands down my face.
Kel peers through the peephole to confirm their departure. Wally moves toward the back of the house. He checks the locks on the sliding glass door and the kitchen windows. Checking the locks helps everyone relax.
Vayda stands up and heads for the kitchen. She returns a minute later with a glass of ice water.
Looking up at her catches me off guard. Her eyes are wide. The tears are gone. The awe in her expression is intense.
She holds the glass out to me.
Taking the water, my fingers brush against hers. Three long swallows empty the glass and soothe my dry throat before I put it on the coffee table.
Vayda places her warm hands on my cheeks. Her thumbs trace the line of my cheekbones.
"You claimed us." Her voice comes out as a rough whisper. "You told the whole world."
Turning my head, I kiss the center of her palm. "I told them the truth."
"The League is going to fine you." She slides her hands into my hair. Her nails scrape against my scalp. "They hate unauthorized statements."
"Let them." Wrapping my arms around her waist, I pull her forward to stand between my spread knees. My face buries into her stomach. "I have enough money to pay the fines. I care about this family."
Kel walks back into the living room. He rubs the back of his neck.
"I went out and talked to the cops. They moved everyone out." Kel stops beside Brendan's wheelchair. He rests a hand on Brendan's shoulder. "The lawn is clear. They parked a cruiser at the end of the block for the rest of the night."
Wally returns from the kitchen. He leans against the doorframe. He watches Vayda stroke my hair.
"Our agent called." Wally crosses his arms. "The PR team is screaming.
The League commissioner saw the video. They are demanding the compatibility blood tests be done tomorrow.
They plan to send a person over here in the morning to collect blood samples.
I hope that works. I assumed it would be easier than having to go to a clinic. "
"That works for me." Vayda sighs. "I did not even know they could test for something like that, but it is never something I needed to prove before. Most people don’t care."
"They don’t care." I shake my head. "But since money is involved, they have to make sure all their bases are covered. If we request time off during the season for a Heat, it better be because we found the one, otherwise they put up a fight for a random Omega."
Vayda looks down at me. Her chest rises and falls with a deep breath. She traces the shell of my ear.
Kel leaves Brendan's side and steps closer.
He runs his hand down her spine. Wally pushes off the doorframe to join us.
He stands on her other side and rests his fingers on her hip.
The stress of the night fades. We all just want to be close to her and know that she is safe.
Knowing there were reporters here when we were at the facility nearly made me rage out.
The air grows thick with our combined scents.
"You boys are crazy." Vayda smiles, the kind of smile that takes my breath away.
"We are yours." I grab her hips and pull her down onto my lap.
She lands across my thighs with a soft gasp. She wraps her arms around my shoulders. I bury my face in her neck, pulling in her scent. We made it through the night. The public now knows that she is ours and we refuse to back down. Tomorrow, we take the test and make it official.