Chapter 30 Kai #2
Nazar: you were steady on your feet after you got up. that’s good. but tell me
Nazar: Kai
Nazar: please
Kai reads them over and over. Evidence of everything he’s trying to protect Nazar from. This isn’t just physical, isn’t just convenient. That Nazar cares enough to risk everything.
He deletes them one by one. Each deletion feels like cutting off a piece of himself.
For the first time in years, he hasn’t brought Bonifazio with him on a road trip. The room is too quiet without the cat’s demanding presence.
For the first time in his life, he’s terrified to read the press. To rewatch the game footage. To see the look on Nazar’s face — that noble, stupid bastard who just destroyed his own reputation to defend someone like Kai.
The quiet concern in those texts is everything Kai ever dreamed of. And now he has to kill it.
* * *
Kai finds Rey at a VIP table in the back of the club, surrounded by an entourage of beautiful people who all look like they’re trying very hard to seem casual.
Rey Tinnery. Country singer turned pop crossover artist. Voice like honey over gravel. Recently publicized coming-out story that made him an LGBTQ icon and somehow made him even more famous. They’ve been friends since they met at some charity gala three years ago.
“Kai!” Rey stands, pulling Kai into a hug. “Been a minute, gorgeous. You look like shit.”
“Thanks. Your honesty is why we’re friends.”
“Sit. Drink. Tell Uncle Rey what’s wrong.” Rey dismisses his entourage with a wave, and they scatter obediently.
Kai sits. A waitress appears immediately with something colorful and probably lethal. He ignores it.
“I need your help,” he says, cutting straight to the chase. No time for pleasantries. No energy for performance.
“For you, anything. You know that.” Rey’s expression shifts from playful to serious in an instant. “What do you need?”
Kai takes a breath. “I need you to fake a relationship with me. A very public, very affectionate one. A very gay one. Instagram posts. Paparazzi shots. The whole performance.”
Rey’s perfectly sculpted eyebrow rises. “Okay…”
“And then, in two weeks, I need you to dump me. Spectacularly. Messily. Make me look like the bad guy. Cheating allegations, emotional unavailability, whatever sells the story.”
Rey leans back, studying him. “Dude. You’re in the FHL. Like, the FHL. Are you sure you want to…”
“It doesn’t matter.” Kai’s voice is flat. “It just has to look real. Convincing enough that no one questions it.”
“Why?”
“Because I need to protect someone. And this is the only way I know how.”
Rey is quiet for a long moment, the bass thumping around them, lights strobing across his face.
“This someone. They know about this plan?”
“No. And they can’t. That’s the point.”
“Kai—”
“Please, Rey. I’m asking as a friend. I wouldn’t if it wasn’t important.”
Another pause. Then Rey sighs, running a hand through his artfully messy hair. “Okay. Yeah. I’ll do it. But you owe me one hell of an explanation eventually.”
“Thank you.” The relief is short-lived, immediately replaced by the reality of what comes next.
They start that night.
A selfie at the club, Rey’s arm around Kai’s shoulders. Posted to Instagram with a cryptic caption about “new adventures.” Within an hour, it has fifty thousand likes and the speculation begins.
* * *
A week later, walking into the arena for a morning skate, Kai is ambushed.
They’re waiting outside the players’ entrance—a group of maybe twenty people, their faces twisted with hate. Security sees them too late.
“Faggot!” Someone screams it loud enough to echo off the concrete.
“Go back to Toronto!”
“You’re a disgrace to hockey!”
His security team forms a protective circle, trying to push through the crowd. But not before someone throws a drink, a Slurpee or something similarly sticky and bright blue, that hits Kai square in the chest, soaking through his jacket.
“Keep moving,” his head security guy mutters. “Don’t engage. Just get inside.”
Inside, in the safety of the tunnel, Kai stands there dripping fluorescent blue while his teammates stare in horror.
“What the fuck,” Stanley breathes.
“I’m fine.” Kai’s voice is mechanical. “It’s fine. Just give me a minute to change.”
The press reports it with salacious glee. Homophobic Attack on Wardens Forward. FHL Star Targeted by Hate Group. Callahan Relationship Sparks Controversy.
His phone explodes with messages. His agent. His PR team. Teammates. People he hasn’t talked to in years suddenly are very concerned for his safety.
And Nazar.
Nazar: your security is useless
Nazar: let me hire someone. i know guys. Ukrainian ex-military. they won’t let this happen again.
Nazar: answer me
Nazar: just write ‘yes’. i’ll give them your number. i’ll handle everything. i’ll pay.
Nazar: i know why you didn’t meet me in Vancouver. i went too far. whatever I did, I’m sorry. it won’t happen again.
Nazar: i’m giving you a week. space. whatever you need. but then I will come for you. and then I’m not responsible for my actions.
The last message makes Kai want to scream. Want to throw his phone against the wall and watch it shatter into a thousand pieces.
Because that’s exactly what Nazar would do. Show up. Demand answers. Force his way back into Kai’s life.
They need to wait at least two weeks. Then he will talk to Nazar and explain all of this.
He deletes them all. Every single message. Then, when Vyachovsky calls five minutes later—probably at Nazar’s request—Kai silences the call and shoves his phone in a drawer.