Misha
Fweeeet! The shrill sound of Coach’s whistle is music to my ears. Trained to withstand torture, and I just spent the last hour being bullied while wobbling around like a newborn giraffe.
“Alright, boys, hit the showers. Mavrin, Taranov…get your asses over here!”
I try, but the best I can do is crawl the ten feet to Coach, collapsing onto the ice with a wheeze once I reach him.
Fuck me. I’m in shape. I’m in damn good shape, running circles around the younger men who train up through the ranks.
Clearly, I’m getting a cold. Maybe two viruses at once.
That’s the only reason I feel like I’ve been hit by a garbage truck while Teddy fucking Taranov grins down at me lying sprawled on my back.
“Need a hand?” He heaves me up and holds me steady with an arm around my waist as Coach watches in disgust, and I remember a time when I was holding him after a particularly brutal training day. I’m meant to be a holder, not a holdee.
“So here’s the deal, Mavrin. I know why it’s important that you travel with the team and keep one hand on Prescott’s ass at all times, but I don’t understand why you need to be on the ice for warm-ups.
None of this is going to work if you can’t skate.
Surely you can keep a good eye on him from the bench? ”
I’m not really sure how to explain the lengths Mila’s willing to go to for Thatcher’s safety, but luckily Teddy chimes in with about as good of an explanation as Coach is ever going to get.
“You ever seen Kill Bill, Coach?” Teddy asks.
Coach, who is looking more annoyed at the length of time this conversation is taking by the second, nods.
“Well, Thatcher’s woman is like The Bride.”
“Oh.”
“If she was ten times scarier. And she’s Misha’s boss….”
“And I get that—”
“And she’s my sister.” This seems to be news to Coach, who scratches at his walrus-like mustache and heaves a sigh. “So we’re really trying not to get on her bad side.”
A cheer echoes from the locker room, followed by chants of, “Sunshine! Sunshine! Sunshine!” making Coach wince at whatever hijinks Thatcher’s getting into.
“Alright, but you have to learn to skate before we can even think about getting you near my drills again. You almost caused a three man pile-up out there because you were in the fucking way. You’ll get hurt, or someone else who I actually need to play hockey this year will, and I can’t have that. ”
Teddy and I share a loaded look. It’s really not ideal for me to be away from Thatcher…
“You can come to practice and ogle Prescott all you want. But you aren’t getting back on my ice until you can at least fucking skate!”
With that, Coach is off to try to halt whatever frivolity is taking place in the locker room, and Teddy’s left to guide me to the edge of the ice. We sit heavily on the bench for a moment before he breaks the silence.
“We’ll find someone to teach you. I should’ve known that just throwing you in wasn’t the way to go, and—”
“You mean you won’t teach me? After all the trouble I went to so that you wouldn’t shoot yourself in the foot with a gun?”
Teddy laughs, but doesn’t budge. “I do owe you my life, and probably many others, for ensuring that gun safety is always on my mind. But it’s already a fuck ton of time away from Ellie just with practice. Plus, I’ll be honest with you, man. I don’t know how to teach anyone how to skate.”
My puzzled expression is enough for him to continue.
“I know you’re probably thinking that I learned at one point too, and I guess technically I did.
But I don’t remember it at all. I can’t think of a time when lacing up and speeding down the ice didn’t feel as natural to me, if not moreso, than walking or running.
So I’m just really not the best guy for the job.
Someone who can explain the physics and mechanics of skating will be a lot better for you. ”
I can’t really argue with that, and I grunt my agreement then stand to head for the lockers. Teddy’s hand on my forearm stops me, so I plop roughly back down onto the bench. Clearly, something else is on his mind.
“It’s been…quiet around here. I know that’s a relative term in this business, and I’m saying it like I didn’t have to eradicate a cell of wannabe cartel members yesterday, which I did.
But after all the shit that went down earlier this year, and then the operation in Russia, I’m just uneasy with the lack of feeling of impending doom, I guess. ”
He’s got a point. He hasn’t even been Pakhan for a year, and along with coming to Russia to help with our mission, he’s dealt with plenty of shit here.
Mainly the de la Rosa family coming for Ellie’s family in a huge way and all the fallout thereafter.
I think being forced into that situation accelerated his Bratva education by at least a few years.
He had to grow up fast, and how he handled the situation guaranteed the Santori family’s loyalty.
“Well, you had a rocky start,” I concede.
“It probably helps that you and the Santoris have such a united front these days, and that the de la Rosas have gone into hiding. Thunder Bay hasn’t had stability like this in a long time.
I’d say to keep your eyes peeled, but don’t let the worry get to you too much.
Whatever happens, we’ll all deal with it when it comes. ”
Teddy releases a long breath, then nods resolutely. “You’re right. Thanks, man. How’re you holding up down here without Mila? There’s no way it’s not weird. You guys have been attached at the hip for almost longer than I’ve been alive…ow!”
“Don’t disrespect your elders,” I chuckle as he dramatically rubs his right temple that I just flicked as hard as I could.
Leaning back, I think about how to answer his question.
I’m not even sure how I feel, let alone how to put it into words.
“It’s weird as fuck. We worked so hard to get out of Russia, then worked here to prepare for her eventual takeover. Then you shot that to shit—”
“I didn’t mean to—”
“And we went and worked our asses off in New York. Now, Mila’s working again in Russia and I’m here, doing something that doesn’t feel a whole lot like work.
Even if it’s of the utmost importance to Mila, being Thatcher’s keeper is quite the change of pace from what I’m used to.
I’ve never had this much downtime in my life. ”
“Is that why you’re pirating overseas versions of reality TV shows now? Ellie said you guys are gonna start watching the Indian version of Keeping Up wi—”
“I’m just not sure what Mila expects me to do,” I sigh, ignoring Teddy’s laughter.
“That’s a lie! You just don’t want to admit it to yourself. She wants you to find a girl. I found a girl. Mila found Thatcher.”
As if summoned, the man himself reappears from the locker room, looking as if he’s feeling refreshed. He has gold patches underneath each eye, a smoothie in hand, and looks suspiciously…hairless?
“Anybody want to touch a freshly waxed chest? Once you start, you’ll never go back. Before, when I dripped queso into my chest hair, it was a nightmare to get out. Now, Mila can just lick it right off and—”
“I think we’re good.”
“No thanks, Thatch.”
“Whatever. You guys are missing out. Especially with how hairy both of you are. You might want to ask the ladies what they prefer next time.”
Teddy scoffs at this, standing and pinching Thatcher’s hairless nipple on his way to the locker room. “Ellie likes to lay in my chest hair, thank you very much. She’d cry if I shaved it.”
“What about you, Misha?”
“In my experience, the women I’m with don’t really care about my chest hair.”
“Really?”
“I guess it would depend on the woman, though. It’s not like I’ve kept anyone around for too long. Neither had Mila, until you.”
His chest puffs up with pride at that, and I can see why she’s enamored with having someone around to be praised and punished all the time.
That’s what she wants for me, I guess. But for her, Thatcher’s more than that.
He’s her love, someone she looks forward to seeing at the end of a long day.
Someone to share a little bit of the burden of our life with.
Someone to remind her why life is worth living.
That’s what she wants me to find here. And exactly what I don’t need.
“So what’s on the agenda for the day? Any, uh…sponsorship meetings? Want to spar in the gym for a bit?”
Thatcher hands me a too-sweet smoothie and cocks his head, considering my questions like the golden retriever he is.
“No meetings. We can definitely spar for a bit, though. I was hoping to catch our team physio for a massage, and then by seven o’clock, I need to be on the couch for Family Love Island. You’re gonna stay and watch it with Ellie and me tonight, right?”
Alright. My entire day is going to consist of waiting for Thatcher to get his massage and then collapsing onto the couch to watch TV. That’s fine. The previews for this episode looked juicy, with a pair of grandparents finally hooking up even though their grandchildren hate each other.
“Misha?”
“What? Yeah…yeah. Definitely. You know I wouldn’t miss it.”
By the time Thatcher finishes his massage, shock wave therapy, and the cold tub, I’ve had time to fit a full workout in.
It’s a perk to have full access to the facility, which has tech I’m already considering integrating into our training protocols.
Between lactate monitoring and a dedicated recovery physician on site, I’m planning to take full advantage, even if the team is still feeling out exactly why I’m here.
Once this assignment is over, I’ll be in the best shape of my life for sure.
The best shape of my life to…fuck. Do whatever’s next, I guess.
Follow Mila and Thatch back and forth between here and New York, and try to stay out of the way.
“Hey, man. Sorry that I took so long.” Thatcher finally appears, shirtless as usual and carrying another smoothie. “Ready to go?”
The drive is mercifully short, especially considering Thatcher’s proclivity for boy band pop tunes.
When we pull into the compound, he doesn’t need me to make him a snack, since the nutritionist at the facility has already told the chef his meal plan for the week. He trundles off to take a bath, and I…
I…
There are plenty of things I can do. Checking the server, I find everything running as it should be. Good. That’s good. A quick check on Thatcher confirms that he has his bubble bath, his rubber ducky, and his favorite Epsom salt. Once he gets out, we’ll meet Ellie in the theater for our show.
Before I can overthink anything else, a text from Teddy saves my evening. Of course I can help his new trainer evaluate a crop of new recruits. Finally something fucking useful to do.