Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
JONAH
Fuck Thursdays, I thought to myself as I climbed out of my ride and hooked my bag over my shoulder. I had never given a shit about Thursdays in my life until today. Until I knew that I was going to be dealing with the Glaciers’ ambassadors—whatever the fuck that was.
I was trying to pay attention to whatever Tucker was babbling about, but I was distracted. We’d come home from the roadie, and my goddamn phone exploded with messages from Nikos telling me my dad had fallen.
He only had my number, not that Micah or Caleb would have done anything about it. But the situation was getting serious, and now I was waiting on phone calls because I had no other choice but to find him a memory care facility.
I couldn’t live with him. That wasn’t a choice I could make. But I also didn’t want to toss him into the first state-run place I found either. He hadn’t been a great dad, but he deserved some goddamn dignity.
Fuck, if this could have happened over the summer, that would have been wonderful. Or if my mother were less narcissistic and monstrous, she would have left me with something—anything—about what had been going on the last few years.
But as it was, I felt like I was sitting there with both thumbs up my ass and my wrists zip-tied together.
Grabbing my cane, I navigated toward the door, and as it flung open, a burst of AC hit me. A second later, as I attempted to swallow, I could feel cat hair in my mouth, having blown off my shirt and into the air. Jesus, I loved my little furry monster, but why was her hair on literally everything.
I scraped my tongue as I headed inside and, after a beat, heard a voice calling out, “Are you practicing deep-throating or what?”
I flipped Tiago off with my spit-covered finger. “Athena.”
He laughed as I heard him approach, and his elbow brushed mine to let me know where he was. “Tell her I love her and that she’s doing the lord’s work.”
“You’re a fucking troll,” I snarked. My voice must have sounded a bit sharp because he sucked in a breath, and I bowed my head on a sigh. “Sorry. I mean, you are a troll, but I’m having a bad day. I don’t mean to sound like a dick.”
“Come here, my little marshmallow,” he said, throwing his arm around me.
I curled my fingers around his elbow, and he took my cane.
He didn’t use a cane all the time—not yet anyway.
But he’d been practicing, and I heard his very precise tap-sweep-sweep-tap as he led us down the corridor.
“Do you want to talk to Daddy Tiago about it?”
“Dude, if you made enough money, I would so employ you as a sugar daddy.”
“You’d have to get real comfortable with dick,” he warned.
“I’ve had a dick my whole life. I’m very comfortable with it.”
He snorted as he turned us left and down the familiar path to the stalls. Normally, that was my safe space. I felt at home there—even if it smelled like ball cheese and toe fungus spray. But today, there was a knot in my stomach.
“I can’t believe Tucker got talked into this bullshit with the Glaciers,” I murmured. I could hear voices up ahead and recognized a couple of the guys.
“You know that wasn’t up to him, right?” Tiago swiped his badge with the low beep, then pushed the locker room door open, where the voices got louder.
Not all the guys were participating. Only three guys from the Glaciers were coming, and Tucker thought it would be overwhelming if we had the whole team, so it was just me, Tiago, Andrey, and Matty.
“I’m just sick of this dog and pony show.”
Tiago hummed. “Never did learn what a dog and pony show actually was. But yeah. It’s fucked. The guys are cool though.”
I stiffened. “You met them already?” I knew one—unfortunately. Alexio the Asshole was going to be on the ice with us. Luckily, he wasn’t a goalie, so I didn’t have to work with him, but I had no doubt he was going to find a way to get a few chirps in.
I was still reeling from realizing he was in Tucker’s office when he was chewing me out for fucking up the game, and I didn’t trust him not to spill my secret before I was ready.
“Yeah. I’m paired up with Zeki. You know him?”
“Mm. Don’t believe anything that guy says. He’s a dirty, filthy liar.”
“Sounds like you know teammate already,” came a thick Russian accent. A heavy hand fell on my shoulder. “We going to be best friends now, yes.”
My brows flew up. “Uh…”
“You gotta introduce yourself, Vanya. Dudes here can’t see you,” came another accented voice. Finnish, I think. It was getting easier to tell now that we were working in closer proximity to the NHL.
“Some of us can see you,” Tiago said stiffly.
I stuck my hand out toward the man who was touching me. “Jonah Adams.”
“Ivan Maximov. Friends here call me Vanya. Or Vanny. Or Ivo. Too many nicknames. I’m be your buddy today, yes?”
He was…a lot. But friendly. I’d give him that. And he didn’t hesitate when he took my hand and shook it.
“Who else is here so I’m not making an ass of myself right now?”
I was the only fully blind member of the team. The closest after me was Andrey. He was also the only other guy on the team who was born blind, so we related a bit harder than the others who were still dealing with the grief and loss.
“Sven, center,” Tiago said, and another hand took mine. “And I think you know—”
“He knows me.” Ah, that voice. That fucking voice. I startled when Alexio took my hand anyway, and he squeezed a little too gently, which pissed me off, so I tightened my grip until he matched me.
“Okay, enough shaking hands,” Vanya said, pulling me back away from Alexio. His fingers slipped out of mine, and he faded back into the void. “Come. You show me how to kit up. Can’t see, yes? There is goggles for me to be blind too?”
He sounded weirdly eager.
“I have no idea what’s happening,” I told him. “I was told to be here and play nice, so that’s what I’m going to do.”
Vanya was stuck to my side as I made my way to my stall, and I felt him sit beside me.
I didn’t have a lot of experience with the Russian players.
They were all over the NHL, but the PPHL was still gathering any kind of global recognition.
Hell, it was only in the last couple of years that they even allowed blind hockey in the Olympics, and not every country participated.
“Is okay. You talk to me now, yes? I’m reading a lot—all night. Go on internet and watch so many games. But I also watch games here when I can. But is hard—have sick dog.”
My heart immediately twisted. “Oh. Oh no. Why?”
“He’s old,” Vanya said. “Going to die soon, so I’m taking him chicken nuggets every day, coffee shop puppuccino every day. You know? Make him happy?”
“Why do I love that?” I said. I felt a little better. “I have a cat. You want to see?”
“Yes! You have picture. Show me. Cats…they don’t like me. But I love.”
I pulled out my phone and tapped on the screen, moving to my photos. I didn’t even need to figure out which was which, considering the only thing I ever took photos of was Athena and the occasional up-my-nose pic when I accidentally triggered my camera.
“Here. Go nuts while I get changed.”
He snatched the phone out of my hand, and after a second, I heard him groan. “Jonah, I’m not understand this…this screen. Is not moving. Just talking to me.”
“Oh shit—”
“I can help,” came a soft voice. It always took me a second to recognize Matty. He was our newest rookie—new to the PPHL and to sight loss. His condition had come on suddenly, rapidly, and he’d been devastated. He’d been drafted and had been on Seattle’s farm team for the last three years.
“Oh yes. You can help me,” Vanya said, then walked off.
That let me focus on stripping down and getting my pads ready. I was able to take a few breaths until one inhale came with a sinus cavity full of fucking cologne.
“Brut.”
“It’s not Brut,” Alexio grumbled.
“I see with my nose. Trust me, it is.”
He muttered something under his breath in a language I didn’t know. “I need to talk to you.”
“Can it wait?”
“No.”
I stiffened. I knew what this was about, and I drew in air, prepared to yell at him until I collapsed and went unconscious. But that wasn’t going to help me keep my secret in. I stood, jaw tense. “Where’s my cane?”
There was a second of silence, and then I startled when something cold and aluminum tapped me on the back of the hand.
“Jesus, warn a guy!”
“I—sorry.” He sounded actually apologetic, which was something.
Keeping it close to my body, I led the way into the trainer’s room. It was empty for now, which would be the perfect spot. They liked to keep it soundproof so people could relax through their massages without the dickheads in the locker room distracting them.
But there was always a heaviness to the air when I stepped inside and shut the door. I listened for Alexio’s muted footsteps so I could keep track of him.
“Well?” I demanded.
“You need to do something about your father.”
I blinked rapidly, then burst into laughter.
“I’m being serious!”
“Oh, I fucking know you are. It’s hilarious that you think I don’t already know that.”
“Then why is he still alone? Why is my brother still finding him in his shop? Why is—”
“I—” I froze. My whole body felt hot, then cold.
My throat went tight, and I suddenly wanted to cry.
“I’m trying,” I managed to get out. My voice was shaking.
“I’m fucking trying, okay? I’m—I didn’t know any of this was happening, my brothers won’t goddamn talk to me, my mother’s in the wind, and he doesn’t even know who I am half the time!
I don’t…I don’t know what to do! I’ve made a dozen calls, and every facility that’s even remotely decent is on a twelve-month wait list. This would be easier if I could live with him, but I can’t. ”
“Why not?” Alexio pressed. “How hard could it be?”