Epilogue Nazar
One year later
Nazar pulls up to his grandmother’s house and feels something settle in his chest when he sees the street is empty except for Kai’s Taycan.
Thank God.
After their last phone call, he’d started suspecting Kai might invite everyone—Sam, Vyachovsky, Miller, the entire former Wolverines crew.
Which would be fine. Great, even. Except Nazar had been looking forward to a quiet afternoon before their flight tomorrow, just him and Kai and his grandmother’s cooking.
He grabs the duffel from the passenger seat and heads up the front walk. The door is unlocked, which means his grandmother is expecting him.
The moment he steps inside, he realizes he was very, very wrong about the quiet afternoon.
The small living room is packed with bodies.
Sam is sprawled on the couch that’s definitely too small for his frame.
Vyachovsky is examining something on the mantle—probably one of his grandmother’s ceramic figurines that she’s inexplicably proud of.
Miller is in the kitchen doorway, and Armstrong is—
“Nazar!” His grandmother appears from the kitchen, her face lit up. “Finally! Come, come. Your friends are starving. I told them to wait but they keep looking at the food like wolves.”
“We’re not wolves!” Sam protests. “We’re very patient guests.”
“Patient.” She snorts, swatting at him with a dish towel. “You asked me three times when the food would be ready.”
“That was just me making conversation!”
Nazar stands in the doorway, his brain trying to process the scene. His grandmother’s house has somehow absorbed half his former team.
And Kai is nowhere to be seen.
“Where’s Callahan?” The question comes out more abrupt than he intends.
“In the garden,” Vyachovsky says without looking up from the figurine. “He’s been out there for like twenty minutes. Said something about tomatoes.”
“He’s helping me pick the ripe ones,” his grandmother adds, bustling back toward the kitchen. “Good boy. Very gentle with the plants. Not like you, breaking branches when you were young.”
“I was seven—”
“And destructive. Now, everyone sit! Food is ready. Nazar, go get Kaisyn from the garden. Tell him to wash his hands first!”
The players immediately start moving toward the dining area—which is really just an extension of the living room with a table that seats six uncomfortably.
Nazar has no idea how his grandmother plans to feed all of them, but knowing her, she’s somehow prepared enough food for a small army.
Bonifazio appears from somewhere and winds between Nazar’s legs with a demanding meow.
“Yeah, I missed you too,” Nazar mutters, reaching down to scratch behind the cat’s ears. Bonifazio purrs, then immediately bites his hand. “Still an asshole, I see.”
He doesn’t wait for propriety. Just heads straight through the kitchen—dodging his grandmother, who’s carrying a massive pot of something that smells incredible—and out the back door.
The garden is exactly as he remembers it. Small. Meticulously maintained. His grandmother’s pride and joy. Rows of vegetables, a few fruit trees, the small greenhouse where she starts seedlings in early spring.
And there, crouched near gazebo and the tomato plants, is Kai.
He’s wearing jeans and a soft gray sweater. His hair catches the late afternoon light, and he’s completely focused on examining a particularly large tomato, his expression serious like he’s performing surgery.
“You planning to propose to that tomato, or are you going to pick it?”
Kai doesn’t even flinch. Just turns his head, a smile already forming.
“This is a very important tomato, Rykov. It requires careful consideration.” He stands, brushing dirt off his knees.
“And no, you can’t have it. I saw that gloomy expression the second you walked in.
The juiciest tomato goes to people with positive attitudes only. ”
“Gloomy.” Nazar moves closer. “Well, I’m not gloomy today.”
“What, are you upset that I invited everyone?”
“You should have called all the referees too. Really pack the place.”
“Don’t be a smartass.”
Kai’s eyes are bright, teasing, and before Nazar can respond, Kai moves—fast, hooking his foot behind Nazar’s ankle and pulling.
Nazar goes down.
Or he lets himself go down.
That’s what he tells himself later, anyway. That he saw it coming and chose not to resist because Kai’s eyes were sparkling and the grass looks soft and—
They land in a heap, Kai half on top of him, both of them laughing like idiots.
“You tripped me,” Nazar accuses.
“You let me.” Kai rolls off him but stays close, lying on his back in the grass. “That was purely voluntary.”
“Was not.”
“Was too.”
They lie there for a moment, shoulder to shoulder, the sounds of the garden settling around them. Birds. The distant hum of traffic. His grandmother’s voice carrying through the open kitchen window, bossing someone about proper hand-washing technique.
“What’s wrong?” Kai asks quietly. “What are you thinking about?”
“What? Nothing. Why?”
“You didn’t have to say anything. I can tell. I know you.”
The words land with unexpected weight. I know you. Said so casually, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
Nazar turns on his side, propping himself up on one elbow so he can look at Kai properly. The slight upturn of his mouth. The scar on his cheekbone that Nazar has traced with his fingers so many times he could draw it from memory.
He’ll never get tired of looking at him.
“I don’t want you to go to him,” he says. The words come out low, almost a whisper. “To see him. To be alone with him, even in prison.”
Kai’s expression doesn’t change, but something shifts in his eyes. “How did you—”
“I know you were there. Last week.” Nazar swallows. “Do I want to be a controlling boyfriend? No. But I can’t help it. I don’t want you anywhere near him.”
The silence stretches. Kai keeps looking at the sky, but his hand finds Nazar’s, fingers tracing patterns across his knuckles. Gentle. Soothing.
Nazar squeezes his hand.
“I wish I didn’t go either,” Kai says finally. His voice is soft, almost lost in the garden sounds. “But he’s still my father. He always will be. It’s… complicated.”
It’s not complicated for Nazar. It’s simple. Doyle Callahan is a monster who hurt his own son and destroyed countless others. He belongs in prison, and Kai belongs as far away from him as possible.
But Nazar has to understand. Wants to understand.
“I hope you don’t listen to the nonsense he says.”
“I always listen to what other people say.” Kai’s mouth curves slightly. “That doesn’t stop me from doing the opposite later.” A pause. “I didn’t think you’d find out I went. But I wasn’t going to hide it from you. I wanted to tell you on the trip.”
Nazar’s chest tightens. The trip. Their vacation to the islands that he spent three weeks planning because he wanted to do something for Kai.
Wanted to prove he could organize something nice, something thoughtful, something that didn’t involve hockey or violence or any of his usual methods of problem-solving.
He’s nervous about it. More nervous than he wants to admit.
Because what does Kai really see in him?
Kai, who’s colorful and complicated and has dozens of people who crave his attention. What does someone like that want with Nazar, who barely talks, who—
“Hey.” Kai finally turns to face him, propping his head on his hand. A few blades of grass stick to his cheek. “Stop spiraling. I can hear you thinking from here.”
“I’m not spiraling.”
“You absolutely are. You get this look.” Kai brushes the grass off his face. “What are you worried about?”
“Nothing.”
“Nazar.”
He sighs. Looks at Kai—really looks at him. At the openness in his expression, the patience that Nazar definitely doesn’t deserve.
“Your father,” he says instead of answering. “What’d he say?”
Kai is quiet for a long moment. Then: “The family name. Legacy. Legacy this, legacy that. How I’m destroying it. How Liam would be ashamed.” His voice is carefully neutral. “You know. The usual.”
“Fucking hate that you let him talk to you.” Nazar shifts closer, close enough that their faces are inches apart. In the distance, laughter carries from the house—his grandmother saying something that makes the guys crack up. It feels like it’s coming from another world.
“Nazar,” Kai whispers. His eyes search Nazar’s face. “I was thinking about something. Just… don’t laugh at me.”
“Why would I laugh?”
“I’m serious. Promise you won’t laugh.”
Kai looks uncertain—a rare expression on him. It makes Nazar’s throat tight.
“What is it, baby? Tell me.”
Kai swallows. His eyes dart away, then back.
“The best legacy,” he starts, the words coming quickly now, like he needs to get them out before he loses his nerve. “The most real one there could be. It’s you and me.” He takes a breath. “For my brother… and for yours. What we have. This. It’s real. It matters.”
Nazar’s breath catches.
All this time, he’d been focused on revenge. On making Doyle Callahan pay. On destroying the man who destroyed Derek.
But that was never what Derek would have wanted.
Derek had tried to help a kid. Tried to do the right thing. And that kid grew up to be Kai—beautiful and brave and so fucking brilliant it hurts to look at him sometimes.
And Nazar found his calling too. Found purpose in hockey, in protecting people he cares about, in being good even when it’s hard.
Especially when it’s hard.
Derek’s legacy isn’t revenge. It’s this—Kai safe and happy and loved. It’s Nazar learning that being good requires effort, requires choosing kindness over rage, requires being strong enough to be gentle.
“Yeah,” Nazar says. His voice comes out rough. “Your brother wanted you to be happy, Kaisyn.”
He leans in and kisses Kai’s nose. Then breathes against his cheek, feeling Kai’s breath hitch.
“I love you,” Kai whispers.
Nazar nods. He knows.
They lie there for another moment, the grass soft beneath them, the world continuing around them.
Then Nazar sits up, pulling Kai with him. “Come on. You need to help me chase out all these uninvited guests.”
Kai laughs. “You’re such a liar. You love that they’re here.”
“I’m tolerating it. There’s a difference.”
“Sure there is.” Kai stands, brushing grass off his jeans. “Very convincing, Rykov. Your grandmother will definitely believe—hey! What are you doing?”
Nazar has reached over and plucked the large tomato—the one Kai was so carefully considering. It’s perfect. Heavy and ripe and exactly the kind his grandmother loves.
“That tomato is not for you! It’s for your grandmother!”
“It’s okay.” Nazar brings it to his mouth, takes a deliberate, massive bite. Juice runs down his chin. He grins. “There are other tomatoes.”
“You absolute—” Kai lunges for him, but Nazar dodges, still grinning.
“Not as big though.”
“I’m going to kill you. I spent twenty minutes picking out the perfect—”
Kai stops mid-sentence. His outrage melts away, replaced by a look of triumphant smugness Nazar knows immediately he’s been played.
“Yes, Rykov.”
Kai reaches behind the small gazebo fence and pulls out a basket. Two massive tomatoes sit inside, even bigger than the one Nazar just bit into. “I anticipated this. I picked out the best ones in advance.”
“Oh, yes, Rykov.”
He reaches behind the small gazebo’s lattice fence and pulls out a woven basket. Inside, nestled on a cloth, sit two more tomatoes—impossibly large, glossy, and a deeper shade of red than the one Nazar holds. “I anticipated your… lack of self-control. So I picked the actual best ones in advance.”
Nazar stares. “You set me up.”
A slow grin spreads across his face. Before Kai can react, Nazar plucks the basket from his grasp. He holds it up, just out of Kai’s reach.
“Hey!” Kai lunges for it, but Nazar is taller, easily keeping it away. “Give it back, you thief.”
“I don’t know. This looks like the finders keepers.”
Kai scoffs, but a smile plays on his lips. He can’t hide it. “Don’t be an asshole.”
“Fine,” Nazar says, lowering the basket just enough to be tempting. “A trade. One taste.”
Kai’s eyes narrow. “A taste of what? You’ve already got a tomato.”
Nazar doesn’t answer with words. He uses his free hand to tip Kai’s chin up. His heavy gaze drops to the long, pale column of Kai’s throat where a pulse beats steadily under the skin.
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Kai breathes, but he doesn’t pull away. A flicker of something hot passes through him. He tilts his head, baring his neck in a clear invitation.
Nazar leans in. He touches the tip of his tongue to that frantic pulse point, a slow lick that tastes of salt and sun-warmed skin. He feels the shiver that runs through Kai’s entire body.
He pulls back with a smirk and finally hands over the basket.
Kai grabs the basket with one hand and Nazar’s shirt with the other, pulling him in for a quick, hard kiss. Kai even bites his lip.
“You’re insufferable,” Nazar says, his voice a little shaky now.
“And you love it,” Kai murmurs, his good mood fully restored. “Your grandmother is going to send out a search party if we don’t get back soon.
They walk back to the house together, Kai carrying the basket of tomatoes, Nazar finishing off the stolen one with deep satisfaction.
Through the kitchen window, Nazar can see his friends—his family, really—crowded around the too-small table, laughing and eating and making his grandmother beam with pride.
Tomorrow they’ll fly to the islands. He’ll probably be nervous about whether Kai likes the resort he picked, the excursions he planned, all the details he’s not used to thinking about.
But right now, in this moment, with Kai’s shoulder bumping against his and the summer evening settling gold around them—
Right now, everything is exactly as it should be.
They step through the back door together, and his grandmother immediately zeroes in on the basket.
“Ah! My beautiful tomatoes! Kaisyn, you angel. Unlike my grandson who probably ate one already.”
“Hmm,” Nazar says.
“Sit. Both of you. Eat before these animals finish everything.”
“We’re not animals!” Sam protests through a mouthful of food.
“You’re eating with your hands!”
“It’s bread!”
Kai catches Nazar’s eye across the chaos and smiles.
And Nazar smiles back.
Yeah. This is exactly where he’s supposed to be.