Chapter 17 #2
That’s not . . . shit. Lottie’s usually a lot more composed than this. It feels kinda nice, seeing her righteous anger as she talks about Girard pushing me, but I know it’ll for sure get people talking.
“Do you know if Chicago tried to get him?” Another reporter asks.
“Not to what extent, no. I was asked by Tanner . . .”
She starts off mentioning her boss and GM of the Chicago Deep, and leans back in her chair, only more comfortable in appearance.
“What I thought of Lex as a player before the trade happened, and if I thought he’d fit in here. It felt like an unusual question, but we are playing against LA in a couple of weeks, so that’s the explanation my mind agreed with. I’ll tell you what I told him, though.
“He is the closest anyone will ever get to being a male version of Charlotte Wayne. Ruko might’ve taught Lex how to skate, but I’m the one who taught him how to play hockey.
Our brothers were too busy thinking they knew everything, and I was left babysitting Lex.
I won’t take any credit for the player he is today, but when I see him play, I remember those times when we would spend hours on the ice and he’d ask questions to anyone who was close enough to answer.
His love for the game, I think, is almost unmatched in our family.
Mostly because it’s pure. There’s no greed, no obsession.
It’s only love for the puck. But he’s the quietest one—he watches and he learns, and I think he’s learned from all of us.
I have no doubt he has a great career ahead of him, even if it’s not under my coaching. ”
“But you would’ve liked to have him here?” someone asks before she can cut them off, though by her expression I can tell she’s done. She shrugs as if unbothered, and I bet it looks careless and easy to anyone who doesn’t know her as well as I do.
“He’s like a little brother to me, of course I’d want the chance to boss him around. But that’s not happening now.”
Another woman steps in, probably the head of PR of Chicago, and ends the press conference. The video ends before Lottie even stands, and that’s when it clicks, and I know why it didn’t before.
I could call Lottie.
On the one hand, she not only understands legacy better than even me, seeing as she’s built her own so high no one will ever be able to touch it, but she also knows me as well as anyone does.
She’s my biggest inspiration—something I’d never tell anyone but her—and she’s very smart when it comes to not-hockey things too.
But she could have a lot—maybe more than me—to lose if anyone finds out she knows what Eli and Tucker did. Hell, if anyone finds out what they did, they’ll think she knew already anyway despite how that goes against all logic.
She’s the head coach of another NHL team, the one that was my first pick for a trade, which of course matters very little with how things turned out. She was the first woman hired for a coaching job seven years ago, and now is the first and only female head coach in the league.
I can’t tell her about any of this, can I?
No, of course not.
But my thumb is already moving across the screen, and I’m tapping the call sign before I can come to my fucking senses.
“Lex, I—”
“Are you at home?” I ask instead of letting her get another word out.
“Yes,” she says, clearly bracing herself because she hears it in my tone. She knows nothing good is coming.
“Alone?”
“I mean, Colin’s in the kitchen.”
“I need to tell you something because you’re the only one I can tell. Even though I actually can’t tell you. I shouldn’t, at least. Fuck, this is so bad, Lottie. I—”
“Slow down,” she says, harshly but kindly. My mouth snaps shut audibly. “Now breathe deep. You’re okay. Whatever it is, you’ll be okay. Whether you tell me or not, it’s okay.”
For a few minutes, I focus only on her voice, close my eyes, and breathe in when she tells me, out when she tells me. Her voice is all that exists, and the peace that it brings is heartbreaking in a completely new way.
I know I won’t have this kind of peace once I open my eyes, once I’m back in reality, but I have to face it.
I have to get through this, because despite everything, I need to know I have a future with Eli. There’s no reality in which I’m okay with losing him over this—as big a mistake as it was, my love for him is still all-encompassing, and a future without him would be bleak as fuck.
“Okay, now, what do you need to tell me that you can’t?” Lottie asks, and as dread pools in my gut, I try to come up with a way to warn her. To make this be her choice to listen or not.
“It’s about the trade.” I let that sink in before continuing. “If anyone ever finds out you know this, that I know this, that this even happened . . .”
“It would be bad, I get it. Why do you think anyone would find out?”
“Because people are always speculating about us tampering in the league, our family,” I explain.
“I guess that’s true, but you didn’t end up in Chicago, so maybe people won’t look too deeply into it?”
“I guess . . .” I trail off, thinking that yeah, she has a point.
Also, normally hockey fans are well aware of how difficult it is to play for the big market teams, and they understand that I’m not in a great spot in New York now. It’s also widely known that Jim Barclay’s an asshole who doesn’t care too much for my family.
On the other hand, this is my “hometown” team and where the man I love—or my best friend according to the internet—lives. So . . .
I just blurt it out.
“Eli got Tucker Barclay to set everything up for the trade at least a month ago, I think. He told him I’d waived my no-trade clause and that LA would start shopping me around before anyone else found out. That’s why the trade went through so fast.”
“Because they were ready for it,” Lottie concludes, and I don’t know if she really is just impossibly collected or if she saw this coming.
“Yes. And I didn’t ask him to do that,” I hurry to add.
“Of course you didn’t, Alexei,” she snaps, and that . . . makes me feel better—she knows me. “I’m going to get to the emotional side in a moment, but first let’s be practical.”
“Okay.” Fuck, I’d really like to be practical first.
“Let’s just think about the possibility of someone who isn’t supposed to getting wind of this. All the people who know, as far as we know, are you, Eli, and Tucker.”
“Yes, as far as we know—”