Chapter 33
. . .
Silas
It’s been two weeks since Vesper told Kane to “fuck off,” and I literally kicked him out of her apartment. But the rage I felt at the time still trembles through my body as I recall the events from that night.
When Vesper was in the bath, texting me but then abruptly stopped replying, I got this strange feeling that something wasn’t right.
She was either sick again or she wasn’t responding to my messages because she couldn’t.
I didn’t even say bye to the guys as I stormed out of the bar we were in, climbed into my truck, and drove a fifteen-minute journey in less than ten, calling Vesper and my brother the whole time. Neither of them picking up the phone.
I knew he was in her apartment the second I saw his car parked in the underground garage and he wasn’t passed out in the driver’s seat, clutching a bottle of whiskey.
Naturally, all financial support that piece of shit blackmailed me into restarting has been canceled, and the morning after Kane forced his way into her apartment, Vesper was in front of a judge, filing for a temporary restraining order, which became permanent today.
I’m fucking mad at myself for not connecting the dots when Kane told me that he’d taken a job as a delivery driver, but I’m so fucking proud of Vesper for the way she handled herself.
When she silently asked me to step back so she could deal with Kane herself, I knew the fire inside her—the flames I always knew were in there—was sparking back to life.
Vesper’s role in this world is to make it brighter with her beauty and confidence, not to have it doused by a man who couldn’t handle who she was when he met her so he went about breaking her down until she was a shell of herself.
And I’m honored to be sitting beside her tonight, with one hand on her tiny pregnancy bump, and with my friends seated around a table in Riley’s, celebrating our win over Colorado.
“I think this red sweater dress is my favorite,” I say, plucking at the material across her navel.
Vesper’s wearing her hair down tonight, and when she turns to look at me, sitting beside her in the booth, the fresh scent of her shampoo fills my senses.
“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?” She crosses her legs like she knows exactly why this dress is my favorite.
“It drives me fucking crazy,” I tease, brushing my fingertips just below the hem. “And then you wore tights, too, and you know what happened last time.”
Her rosy cheeks deepen in color, and I set a kiss against her forehead, closing my eyes and praying that we’ll never see or hear from Kane again.
Forgive me, Mom. I really fucking tried.
“You know, I think we come to this bar too often,” June announces from her position at the end of the booth. “I know Vesper works here, but we’re even here tonight, on her night off.”
From opposite me, Tristan leans forward, resting his forearms on the table. “And we care about your opinion because? You don’t even live in Seattle.”
June’s left brow arches, and I know my forward just walked into his own nightmare. “Well, that’s where you’re wrong, Mr. I’m Always Fucking Right. I’m currently scoping out property in the area because I’m tired of New York and living with my parents.”
Tristan goes to respond, but Will gets there first.
“Erm … why am I only hearing about this now?”
June lifts a casual shoulder, turning her wineglass around on the table. “Because, oh brother, you don’t need to know every little detail about my life. I only publicize things when they’re worth talking about.” She fires a look at Tristan.
He clicks his tongue and takes a sip of beer, setting the glass back down on the table. He’s probably thinking about the interview he did with June, and that was definitely a dig at him.
“Does anyone want another drink?” Tristan changes the subject as he stands and grabs his glass.
I nudge my elbow into Mason’s side, and he rejoins the room. He was in a daze for most of the night and barely said a word during the game, where he played pretty well and we secured a shutout.
“Huh?” He looks up at me and then at Tristan before his eyes fall to the half-full soda glass in front of him. “Nah, I’m good. Thanks.”
When the girls all make their way to the restroom, I take the opportunity to check in with my teammate. It’s been a while since we spoke that time in my apartment, and it feels like he’s becoming more distant, even if his drinking has seemingly calmed down.
“What’s the latest?”
He immediately knows what I’m referring to, his face contorting with anguish.
“Sorry I’ve been quiet tonight, man. I woke up this morning to paperwork on my doorstep and a text message from Eloise.”
I pull back, and Will shuffles along the booth so he’s sitting opposite us.
“What type of paperwork?” my alternate captain asks.
Mason blows out a long, defeated breath. “The type of paperwork I never expected to receive when I slid that diamond onto my wife’s finger and we called it forever. She wants a divorce.”
I swallow hard and glance over at Will.
“And what did she say in the text?” I ask.
If I thought Mason looked low before, it has nothing on the slump in his shoulders now.
“She said that she wants a fast and simple divorce and she’s not interested in anything more than fifty percent. That she’s dating someone else back in France and it’s getting pretty serious really fast.”
Will shakes his head and sits back in his seat as Tristan returns with drinks.
He sets them down on the table and looks between the three of us. “What did I miss?”
Mason just smiles, but it’s futile, and honestly, my heart breaks for him. Here I am, all loved up and excited to start a family with my girl, and I’ve got a brokenhearted teammate sitting to my left.
“Nothing much. My wife wants a divorce and is fucking a guy she knew from her childhood.”
Tristan slides his beer across to Mason, and I throw him a warning glare. The last thing I need is Mason drinking himself into the ground tonight.
“Like I said … relationships and love aren’t worth it. They all end in failure, and for those that do stay together, it’s only because they’re too stubborn to admit it’s over and how unhappy they are. Welcome back to freedom, Mase.”
Will scoffs right as Drew appears from the restroom. Will’s got his back to her as she heads straight for our booth, eyes wide with panic and her cell in hand.
My heart trips out when her attention fixes on me.
“What’s wrong with Vesper?” I choke out, already rising from the booth.
She can barely form words, waving her phone around like we can somehow decipher what’s happening just by looking at it.
“Silas …” She sounds as frantic as she looks, thrusting her phone into my hand. “I’ve got Colton on the line for you.”
I look at her blindly. Drew’s my publicist, but why the hell is her boss asking to speak with me late at night?
Drew must read my thoughts, lips twisting in anguish. “It’s Kane. He’s been talking to the media.”
Fuck.
I take the phone and make my way to the exit in search of somewhere quieter, where I can hold a decent conversation.
“Yeah, this is Silas,” I finally say as I push through the door and into the night air.
It’s mid-January and fucking freezing, although I don’t feel the chill through my black dress shirt, only the rapid beat of my heart rate.
What the fuck has Kane said?
“I’m really sorry to disturb your celebrations, so I’ll get straight to the point.” Colton’s deep voice rumbles down the line. He sounds stressed out.
I force a hand through my hair as Vesper steps outside with my jacket looped around her shoulders, and I flip my hand for her to come snuggle into me.
The second I wrap my arms around her, the world stops spinning, and I can focus on what Colton is saying.
“I just got off the phone with your agent, but in short, Kane has been talking to the press, and several major news outlets dropped, er …” He trails off.
My body tenses, and Vesper gazes up at me with worried eyes.
“Dropped what, Colton?”
“They, er … they released details of your past, including criminal charges from when you were a teenager.”
“What the fuck?” I bite out.
“Kane talks about the assault you put on him when he was simply delivering a pizza to his ex-girlfriend. He alleges that since he thought that he was the father of Vesper’s child, he wanted to put things right between all three of you and bury the hatchet.
But you didn’t let him explain his intentions, showing up at her place drunk and ready for blood.
” Colton clears his throat; he sounds disgusted by Kane’s actions.
“He goes on to say that you and Vesper have been sleeping together behind his back and likely carrying on an affair while they were still involved. Kane is contesting the restraining order, and furthermore, he’s looking to press charges against you for breaking his nose.
His lawyer asserts that with your history of assault and battery, he feels that your brother has a strong case. ”
If my girl wasn’t here to witness it, I’d have put my fist through the advertisement board to my right.
Pure, unadulterated rage swells inside me as I fight to keep my voice calm for the benefit of my pregnant girlfriend. That son of a bitch has tried to blacken her name as well as my reputation and spouted flat-out lies about us.
“He had no right to do what he did,” I spit.
Vesper buries her face in my shirt. She doesn’t know what Kane’s said, but she does know him well enough to expect the worst.
“Yes, Vesper and I are together, and, yes, we are expecting a baby that hasn’t officially been announced yet.”
I close my eyes, and memories of when I was fifteen and incarcerated for nine months come flooding back.
It was the lowest point in my life, allowing my dad to pull me into his illegal activities.
Carjacking and fighting are not things I’m proud of, and I was damn lucky to get a reduced sentence on account of my age and my dad’s controlling behavior.
That whole period in my life isn’t something I ever talk about.
To anyone. Kane only knew because Mom told him in confidence.
My stupidity nearly cost me my fucking hockey career.
And now my asshole brother is trying to ruin it anyway.
But despite all of the above, I’d happily bury him six feet under for the way he’s going after Vesper and painting her out to be an unfaithful girlfriend who ran off with his brother.
“I served nine months in juvie for some bad decisions—”
“Silas,” Colton cuts me off carefully. “I know about your past. If I didn’t, then I wouldn’t be a very good publicist. If you dig hard enough on the internet, you can find some records of what happened.
And for what it’s worth, you don’t need to explain any of this to me. I know the person you are.”
I pull a deep breath into my lungs and set a kiss in Vesper’s hair.
Jesus Christ, this was not the pregnancy announcement I was hoping for my girlfriend.
“So, what’s next? My main concern is keeping Kane out of Vesper’s life and away from us both because I swear if I ever lay eyes on him again, I’ll be back behind bars.”
Colton makes an agreeable noise.
“Drew and I are working on a public statement tonight, and I suggest you contact your legal team to discuss the restraining order. In terms of the Rogues …”
I close my eyes again, knowing Cavendish, Coach, and the GM are going to lose their goddamn minds over this. This is the first season where we’re gaining proper traction in the league. Hell, we have an outside chance of making the playoffs. This is the last thing the team—or the fans—needed.
“I’ll talk to Coach and management in the morning,” I say, taking Vesper by the hand and guiding her back inside. It’s too fucking cold out here for her.
“Okay. I’ll be in touch tomorrow morning with a drafted statement for you to look over before we send it live.” He pauses. “Thinking about it, is there anything specific you want to include?”
Now back inside the bar, I lean down and brush my lips over Vesper’s, anything to ease the worry etched into the lines on her forehead.
“Yeah, actually, there is. Tell the whole fucking world that I’m in love and going to be a daddy in the offseason.
And tell them that I’m the luckiest man alive to finally call the kindest, most loyal, and most beautiful woman all mine.
Tell them it was only a matter of time before the right brother showed her the love that she always deserved. ”