Chapter 14
Cody had morning skate with Hen and the guys, and that was—just a mess of support. Cody tried not to get too emotional in general weeping during heats aside, because he had spent so long worried about being seen as weaker, less “alpha” for giving into expressing his feelings.
But he teared up after Ricardo and then Sergei caught him up in hugs.
When Sergei pulled away, he took Cody by the shoulders and made direct eye contact instead of hunching up to look smaller, ever aware of his size off the ice.
“We’re team,” Sergei said clearly. “On ice yes, always, but also off ice. Any bad alpha try anything, I’m kill him.” He glanced over Cody’s shoulder, then looked back down, a small smile playing around his mouth. “Me but also Leo I think, yes?”
Cody hadn’t actually told anyone but Hen that Leo had helped him through heat, but…yeah, aside from Sergei already knowing, a lot of the guys probably had figured at least something out. Cody was gone, Leo was gone at the same time…it didn’t take a genius.
But Cody was feeling too good to worry. So he just grinned at Sergei. “If you’d both do the murdering, who’d hide the bodies?”
“Is me,” Sergei said, and he was fully grinning too now as his hands slid off Cody’s shoulders. “Is Russian mafia in America, you know? Maybe they are wanting big, strong Russian hockey player.”
Cody laughed in delight. “You told a joke!”
“I’m having many jokes,” Sergei grumbled. “Just mostly Russian.”
“No, no,” Cody said, shaking his head. “That was great! You should keep telling them. I mean, if you want to be Mr. Serious Quiet Sergei, that’s totally allowed.
But if you like to tell jokes and stuff, you absolutely should.
” He gave Sergei another smile, this one more hesitant.
“You could practice on me, if you wanted? If you wanted someone else to practice English with. You know I won’t care if you aren’t perfect. ”
Sergei blinked at him, then smiled brightly. “Thank you. Yes, okay.”
***
The first game back was an absolute rush.
Cody figured every player tended to have adrenaline coursing through them on game days, but everything felt amplified the first night back.
The waft of cold air off the ice, the bright lights, the roar of the crowd.
Cody was also feeling good, all his focus narrowed to the puck, the bodies of the players around him, and how fast he could move.
Cody got the first goal of the night, and that felt like a fucking win all on its own.
He could tell that the Vultures had it out for him, but he was doing his best to ignore the vitriol, the absolute garbage that the other team was spewing.
He knew the Cougars were working their asses off keeping the Vultures from slamming Cody into the boards or tackling him to the ice.
It felt like the other team was out for blood, but Cody had never been prouder of being a part of his team.
Tanner scored the next goal, but then the Cougars were too distracted by what seemed like half the Vultures trying to dogpile Cody at once, and they lost track of the puck.
The stupid fucking trick worked a second time before, at a break, Cody told them they needed to cut it out.
He could take it if a Vulture wanted to hurt him on national broadcast.
“But—” Anton started.
“It’s a dirty fucking game,” Cody spat. “And I want to win it. I won’t play for the puck again, okay? I’m faster than all of them. If I’ve got to spend the rest of the game skating circles around them, then fine, alright? Just as long as we score another goal and break the tie in our favor.”
Ricardo looked unhappy as he turned to the actual captain of the team. “Leo?”
Leo let out a growl that turned into a sigh. “I don’t like it, but he’s almost right.”
“Almost?” Cody said in disbelief.
“Yeah,” Leo said. “Because I don’t want you out of the game. Ricardo, stay on his ass and cover as needed. Don’t drop your gloves if you can help it though—I want you on the ice, not in penalty. Cody, Anton, the rest of us will set you up.”
Anton gave a sharp nod. “Got it.”
“Okay,” Cody bit out.
Leo pulled his lips back into a snarl of a smile. “Let’s win this thing and make ‘em regret fucking with us.”
***
They managed to sneak in one last goal before the game went into OT. Eddie sliced the puck to Cody who sent it off to Anton in what was, frankly, a beautiful pass. Anton flipped it right into the corner of the net, and that was it.
They’d won the game.
Everyone converged on each other, the Cougars celebrating as if they’d won the Stanley.
Cody was feeling it too. They’d fought a dirty, dirty game and won as fairly as they could.
And Cody had been out on the ice while they’d done it, with a goal and an assist. Not bad for his first game after the most miserable heat of his life.
When they got off the ice, Hen was there, looking grim. “Cody, I need to warn you that the press is out for blood tonight.”
Leo frowned. “What? Why? We just played a good fucking game.”
“Despite the Vultures trying to murder me,” Cody added.
Hen blew out an angry breath and held up her phone.
“I don’t know what story they’re trying to run with here, but Kim’s monitoring all the live tweets from the game.
Apparently there’s a divide between people who think Cody “put the Vultures under his spell” and that’s why they were so aggressive, and put the Cougars “under his spell” and that’s why you were so ‘distracted’ tonight. ”
Leo made an inarticulate growling noise. Cody just sighed.
“Whatever,” he said, putting a hand on Leo’s shoulder. “It’s not like that’s anything I haven’t dealt with before. And we need to get in there—they’re probably wondering where we are.” This will suck, but then it’ll be over. For now.
Leo growled again, but he nodded. “You’re right.”
“You remember your answer if they try to ask you about Shitbag?” Hen asked.
Cody laughed despite himself. Hen called Vince a different insult every new conversation. “I understand your curiosity, but I prefer not to relive a sexual assault. However, I also don’t believe any omega deserves being assaulted or attacked, regardless of the circumstances,” he recited dutifully.
“Perfect,” Hen said. “Okay.” She still looked grim, but steadier. “Let’s do this.”
Cody followed Leo into the locker room, and only kept from recoiling by the skin of his teeth when every reporter in the room turned almost as one to look at him, even those who were asking questions of other players.
Cody kept from looking at them—even kept from looking at Leo. Instead, he headed over to his own locker and started to shuck his gear.
He stopped after he’d gotten his pads off. He’d actually strip down completely once he wasn’t facing down a different type of vulture.
Cody had barely turned away from his locker when four mics were stuck in his face, the camera guy just behind the reporters. They all looked like circling sharks.
“Hey,” Cody said, trying for a smile. Trying to look unaffected. Trying so hard, every single day. “First question?”
“Cody—” one reporter started.
Suddenly he was bracketed on both sides, Ricardo on one, Sven on the other.
He did his best not to betray his surprise, but his teammates had to have abandoned their own interviews to stand next to Cody.
Ricardo was big and doing nothing to disguise it, and Sven was a goalie and thus absolutely crazy.
And they were here, offering their support.
It was clear the person holding the microphone was taken aback by the addition of two giant, glaring Cougars not even trying to hide their animosity, but she had a typical reporter neutral face and rallied quickly.
“Cody, it seemed as though this game was unusually difficult for both teams. Do you feel like you were the cause?”
Fuck, here it goes. “Well, yeah,” Cody said lightly, over the sound of Swen growling lowly. “I do. My team was doing their best to keep the Vultures off my back.”
“Was it a strategy to have you distract the Vultures?” Someone else asked.
“What?” Cody said in disbelief. “No, of course not. I’ve been targeted by other teams pretty much ever since I joined the league.”
“Why do you feel that is?” Asked another reporter.
Oh for fuck’s sake— “A lot of people aren’t happy about an omega in the NHL,” Cody said bluntly. Which was…actually the first time he’d been so blunt about it. But he was too sick of this shit to care, especially after winning a dirty game fair and square.
He just wanted to change and go home. Home with Leo.
And shower also with Leo, eat something in the comfort of his own home together, and then curl up with Leo in bed.
“I’ve dealt with everything from harassment to death threats,” Cody said evenly.
“No one seems to care that I’m a good player and I play good hockey.
I got a goal and an assist this game, and none of you want to talk about that.
You’d rather spread misinformation that I’m…
what? Hypnotizing the opposing team in the middle of a hockey game?
You don’t want to talk about the fact that I have to deal with high-adrenaline alpha pheromones for hours, and I still manage to play and play well? ”
There was a moment of silence.
Then, from another person behind a mic, “You passed the puck to Anton in the final few minutes of the game. Is there a reason you didn’t take the shot yourself to get a second goal?”
“Because it’s not the Cody Wallace show?” Cody said, bewildered. “I’m on a team. Anton was in position to make the shot. It would’ve made no sense to try to make it on my own.”
“So you think you weren’t capable of making the shot?” The reporter goaded, clearly trying to dig deeper.
“It doesn’t matter, does it?” Cody said flatly.
“I could be the best player in the league and still never be given the accolade of a middle-tier alpha. We won this game. The Vultures spent half their ice time trying to murder me and you all know that, and you’re literally trying to frame that as my fault.
I got a goal and an assist of our three goals tonight, and you’re telling me I wasn’t good enough. ”
Shut up, shut up, PR is going to kill you.
But Cody couldn’t stop. He wasn’t tired anymore, he was furious.
“Do any of you have any omegas in your life?” He spat.
“Friends or partners or children? If you do, why are you telling them you want them stepped on and beaten down until they stop trying to get back up? Unless what you’re really trying to say is that you don’t actually care about them.
That the best you can do is pretend to love them, and that all you really wish is that they were born different.
Their successes, their hurts, none of that matters to you. Because omegas don’t matter to you.”
Another beat of silence, this one clearly shocked. Which was really weird when facing down a crowd of reporters.
“I’ll take a question!” Sven said cheerfully in his slightly accented English. He was wearing a grin that was on the verge of manic, as if he hadn’t been growling at the media just a couple minutes ago. Goalies.
The media scrum seemed disappointed that Sven was obviously redirecting the interview, but it was clear none of them were willing to deliberately ignore Sven to try asking Cody more questions.
Maybe even the press figured that wouldn’t look good to viewers.
Especially not after Cody’s little speech.
So the mics got pointed in Sven’s face instead, and Cody breathed a little easier.