Chapter 25 Liam
LIAM
When I hit the ice for our next home game, I’m on edge, reckless, twitchy, primed for a fight.
It’s been three days since that shitty manila envelope landed on my porch. Two days since I blocked Emma’s number, hoping distance would keep her safe.
Maybe if they see we’re not in touch, they won’t bother her.
It’s all I can hope for.
Three and a half million dollars? I don’t have.
I’ll never have it.
I’m not a robber.
I don’t have anything to sell, and no bank’s stupid enough to loan me that kind of money.
Basically, I think I might have to let them kill me.
The thought eats at me, driving me wilder.
I play like a madman, reckless and violent. I’m not in it to entertain the crowd. I’m in it to draw fucking blood, to feel pain.
Two fights in two periods. I barely feel the punches, barely care when my knuckles split open. The penalty box is my second home tonight.
By the third period, I’m surprised Coach hasn’t benched my ass.
I check a guy so hard into the glass that he skates the wrong way off the ice, concussed.
Back in the box for me.
When I finally get back on the ice, Coach yanks me again. Nik’s waiting on the bench, eyes blazing. He gets in my face, teeth bared like a fucking jungle cat ready to rip my head off.
“Calm. The. Fuck. Down.” He’s menacing as all get-out, a true mafia boss.
But I barely hear it.
This is not about hockey. It’s not about anything other than the sheer terror I have felt for the past three days straight.
I cannot calm down.
I do not have the tools in my psychological toolbox to manage the panic that rises every time I think about the fact that my mother and the love of my life are at risk because of my stupid fucking father.
If he weren’t dead, I’d surely beat him to within an inch of his life for pulling me into this mess.
All I can hear in my head is the clock ticking down.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
Like something bad is coming, and I have no idea how to stop it.
I can’t focus.
I can’t breathe right.
I feel completely fucking useless out there, just holding it together by a thread.
Somehow, the guys manage to keep the puck out of our net, and Nik and Mickey pull off a win.
As soon as the final buzzer sounds, I’m done.
I push through the crowd and head down the tunnel, ignoring everyone.
While the team does a victory lap for the crowd, I’m in the shower, tearing off my gear and throwing up.
I’ve never felt so empty in my life.
I drag myself out of the showers, just a towel around my waist, when Nik suddenly shoves me up against the wall. His hand is tight around my throat.
“You were reckless as fuck out there,” he hisses.
“A fucking nightmare. I know you have shit going on, but be a fucking professional. Put it aside. Get your head right. You cannot lose your shit like that. Do you know why? Because part of your salvation is your contract negotiation. Being a fucking loose cannon lunatic will not help your case.”
I hear him, but all I can think about is my mom and Emma. I choke out, “My mom… Emma…”
Nik knows about the threat. He knows why I’m feeling this way. So he lets go, softens a bit.
I can’t help it; tears are streaming down my face. I know I look like a big pussy.
Everyone is staring.
Everyone.
Even Connor, who’s usually got a joke for everything, just looks worried.
Nik steps back. “Get dressed,” he says quietly. “Wait for me.”
I nod and go to my locker, head hanging. I don’t look at anyone, don’t say a word. Just run a brush through my hair, pull on my clothes, and drop onto the bench to wait.
Usually, the locker room should be buzzing after a win. Tonight, it’s somber and quiet, and I know it’s all because I’ve had a total fucking meltdown.
I see Nik and Dom conferring quietly by their lockers. Connor notices, too. He sits down next to me as he pulls on socks and shoes.
“I think they’re gonna put you in concrete boots and send you to the bottom of the lake.”
I manage a weak laugh. “I deserve it.”
“Eh, we all have crap nights. And actually, your game wasn’t all that shitty. I kinda liked you all wild and crazy. It was unpredictable. I think it helped us win.”
I grunt, not buying it. “Yeah, right.”
He snorts. “Yeah, no. It didn’t help. You were a turd out there tonight. A big, stinky one. But whatever. Shake it off. Play better next time.”
Connor claps my shoulder, grabs his bag, and calls out, “All right, you fuckers. Weird night. Let’s not do it again.”
He walks out, his red hair practically glowing under the lights.
“Let’s go, Liam,” I hear from Nik’s corner of the room.
I stand, grab my bag, and follow him out to the garage. He pops the trunk of a brand-new, black BMW that would probably give me a hard-on if I wasn’t feeling like hell.
We toss our gear in the back, and I climb into the passenger seat, breathing in the rich smell of new leather.
“Nice ride,” I say as he starts the engine.
Nik just gives a curt, “I know.”
All right. He’s definitely pissed.
He flicks on some classical music as we pull out of the lot, and we ride in silence for forty-five minutes—no small talk.
When we finally reach the suburbs, he pulls up to a house behind a massive black gate.
He rolls down the window and lets a surveillance sensor scan his eyes.
High-tech as fuck.
The gate swings open without a sound.
I whistle under my breath. “Holy shit.”
“It’s necessary,” he says, pulling up a short, brick driveway and into a triple-wide garage. He parks the BMW next to a bright red Lamborghini and a Volvo that, by comparison, actually looks quite normal.
“This is a nice place,” I observe.
“Thank you,” he says. “Come in.”
He leads the way inside, and right as we step through the door, a dark-haired woman is waiting.
He pulls her close, and they kiss passionately, not caring one bit that I’m standing there like an awkward extra.
When they finally come up for air, she nips at his lower lip, and he gives her a playful smack on the ass.
“We have a guest,” Nik says. The word guest sounds like he might as well have said the plumbing was backing shit up into the house.
The woman looks at me for the first time. She’s beautiful. Exotic, with dark hair, hazel eyes, and creamy skin, looking effortlessly chic in an oversized, black turtleneck sweater and a pair of black leggings.
She doesn’t look much older than twenty-five.
“Hi, I’m Leanna,” she says, offering her hand.
I take it, a little thrown by how put-together she seems. “Liam.”
She gives me a warm, curious look. “Liam Callaghan, the defender. How are you feeling? You just got back from IR, right? Rib’s all healed?”
“Yeah, I’m good. Thanks.”
“Glad to hear it. And I hear you’re up for a contract renegotiation soon?”
I glance at Nik, who’s suddenly fascinated with his fingernails.
“I, uh…”
“It’s my job to know these things, Liam. Do you know why?”
I shake my head. “No?”
“I’m part owner of the team,” she says.
My eyes go wide.
The Reapers’ owners are supposed to be a secret. There’s always been talk that the team was mafia-owned, but I never paid much attention until now. Apparently, the rumors are true.
Still, Nik’s wife looks too young to be anyone’s crime boss.
I take a closer look and spot a long scar down one side of her face. Instead of ruining her beauty, it just makes her even more striking. She’s… interesting, in a way that makes you want to know her story.
Nik notices me staring and snaps, “Quit it, Liam,” in a low, bristling voice.
I jerk my eyes away from Leanna, swallowing back a pit of irrational fear.
A baby cries in a nearby room. Leanna flashes a smile, holds up a finger, and rushes off.
“Come with me,” Nik says, already striding down the hallway. He’s big and lean. He moves like a guy who’s made a career out of sneaking up on people. And I feel like a draft horse clomping after him.
“I’m very protective of my wife,” he says, shooting me a look as we walk into a massive office. “Just so we’re clear, I’d kill anyone who got too close. Even friends. Capisce?”
“I understand,” I say. “I’m not...I wouldn’t.”
Nik grunts, pours two glasses of bourbon from a ridiculously fancy decanter, and hands one to me. I take a cautious sip and cough a little as it burns down, trying to look cooler than I feel.
He points at the couch. “Sit. Let’s talk.”
A few minutes later, Leanna reappears, this time with a baby propped on her shoulder, a tiny, dark-haired kiddo who looks like she’s already partied too hard for one night.
She pats the baby’s back and claims the big chair behind the desk. Nik stands close beside her, all silent muscle and watchful eyes.
I finally notice the gun at his hip and try not to stare.
Nik doesn’t waste time. “Liam’s getting squeezed by the Brownings,” he says, straight to the point. “They’re demanding three and a half million. What’s the deadline, Liam?”
“Eleven days from now,” I answer.
“Or what?” Nik asks, though he knows the answer.
“They threatened to kill my mother or my...friend.”
Leanna’s right eyebrow raises. “Friend?”
I swallow hard, eyes dropping to my glass, then force myself to look back up and meet her gaze.
If I want their help, I can’t be cagey. “The love of my life,” I admit.
Leanna’s eyes go sharp, curious. “Tell me about her.”
So I tell her about how Emma and I met in middle school, how we were friends first. I was this big, awkward, quiet kid, and she was bright, creative, steady.
She always made me feel safe, as if I could be more than I was.
As we grew older, our feelings deepened.
We fell in love. We made plans. And then one day, she was just gone.
I keep talking, I tell her about my mom and her boyfriends, about the abuse I suffered.
I tell her about my dad leaving. About playing hockey in college, getting drafted. About moving and dealing with my dad’s bullshit. About his suicide.
I’m pretty sure Nik has already told her most of this, but she listens like she actually cares.
And even though I know Nik could probably snap a man in half for fun, I don’t get that vibe from Leanna. She seems warm. Safe. The way she holds her baby, the way she looks at me, there’s genuine kindness there.
When I’m done, she considers me for a moment before asking, “Do you know what I do for a living, Liam?”
I shake my head. I have a guess, but I’ll just keep my mouth shut.
“Well, right now, I manage a massive real estate investment operation. Eventually, I will head a multinational conglomerate. Some legitimate and some that operate in a grey zone.”
Nik snorts. “Grey zone?”
I look between them. The corner of Leanna’s mouth quirks up at the corner.
“The Campisi-Barkov organization is the most powerful crime organization in the Midwest,” Leanna says.
“I...okay,” I don’t know what else to say.
“We can make the Brownings go away, Liam,” she says.
“And then what? Do I have to work for you forever?” I ask, only half-joking.
She shrugs. “Only if you want to. We always need trustworthy people. But actually, I have a different idea.”
“Oh?” My guard’s still up. “What’s that?”
“Have you looked at property values in your neighborhood lately?”
I frown, shaking my head. “Not really. I’ve noticed some people buying up houses, knocking them down, building new ones, but that’s about it.”
She nods. “Your house isn’t tied up in any debt, is it?”
I let out a breath. “No. It’s free and clear. Honestly, that’s probably the only smart thing my dad ever did; he never put the house on the line. It’s all paid off, somehow.”
“Good. And he willed the property to you, correct? You now own it?”
“Yes.”
“I looked at the details. It’s on a double-lot. A little more, actually. A goldmine of a property. At face value, you could put that property on the market for two-point-five, and you’d probably have a bidding war.”
“Two-point-five.” I repeat. “Million?”
“Indeed. And you’d get higher, I suspect. So here’s what I can offer. I won’t lose money on real estate investments, so I can’t go a million above market value, but I could offer you two-point-seven-five, no inspections needed, all cash. We can close in nine days.”
“Are you serious?” I splutter. “Seriously?”
“She can split the lots and double her money,” Nik says, as if this should be obvious.
I do the mental math. This is a good deal.
It will leave me homeless, but it’s a good deal.
Just...not quite good enough. I’m still seven hundred and fifty grands short.
Nik seems to read my mind. “We can offer the lower amount, plus a slightly expanded operational territory and a case of weapons. They accept, and all of your debts are considered paid. They leave you alone. They have no claim on your loved ones.”
My mouth hangs open. “Why?”
Nik blinks, like he genuinely doesn’t understand the question.
“Why?” he echoes.
“I’m not part of your...family. Why would you do this for me?”
I look to Leanna for the answer. She may be young, but she’s clearly the one who has all the power here.
“In our world, Liam,” she says, “There are very few good people. You just sat here and talked about being in love with a woman you’ve loved since you were young.
You told me you pay for the care of your mother, who did not give you a good childhood.
You tried to help your father, even though he only manipulated you.
And you asked for nothing in return. We have the capacity to help you, and you’re a teammate of Nik’s, so we have your back. ”
I gape at her. I have no words.
None.
“Do we have a deal?” she asks.
I swallow back the lump in my throat and nod.
“I need to hear it,” she says.
Leanna Campisi Ivanov stands, switches her sleeping baby to her non-dominant shoulder, and shoves her right hand out.
We shake on it.
“We have a deal.”