twenty-four
Hux
Our trip was over. We’d spent the rest of our downtime in Melbourne together. When Roe and I couldn’t get it up again and Cara was too sore to let us touch her, we did the touristy things—Queen Victoria Market, Hosier Lane, coffee at a hole-in-the-wall café, cakes at a different one, riding the tram and checking out all the historical buildings, seeing one of those old timber sailing ships docked beside somewhere called Jeff’s Shed, and walking along the river while watching gas flames shoot out of the casino every few minutes. Melbourne was cosmopolitan and historical with a vibrancy that I loved. But the weather was shit. It rained non-stop. It was cold and dim too. The sunlight barely filtered through the tall buildings.
But it was also a rush, a blur of colour and laughter and stolen moments together. Getting to know Roe and Cara was incredible. So was our final game. We’d taken the series 4–to–1, and now we were flying to Adelaide to do a fan signing at the city’s ice hockey rink and meet-and-greet at the Children’s Hospital.
I was heading home in less than forty-eight hours.
My phone vibrated from its spot on the coffee table in the airport’s private lounge. We were watching our luggage being loaded as we waited to board the plane.
My agent was calling. I didn’t want to answer it. Fear pulsed in my gut. My palms were instantly slicked with sweat. My heart raced like I’d skated a whole damn game without a break.
Things had calmed down with my teammates. Mironov’s stare wasn’t quite so caustic anymore, and we’d played brilliant hockey. But my luck wasn’t going to hold—I just knew it. This call was the push that would make my carefully constructed house of cards topple.
There was only one reason why he’d be contacting me—my contract—but I didn’t have it in me to face losing my team as well as saying goodbye to Roe and Cara. I really wanted to stick my head in the sand and hope it all went away.
The vibration ceased but lit up again immediately. “Fuck,” I breathed.
“Answer it,” Roe encouraged. I’d told him and Cara just how much I wanted to stay with the Seals—I was bound to be traded eventually; it was the life of a hockey player—but I was afraid. Roe had zeroed in on my fears without a moment’s hesitation. He’d put words to the greasy slickness weighing me down—I’d been passed along enough. I’d been shuffled out of sight too many times already. I wanted someone to stay with me, someone to stick it out. But I knew that the team wouldn’t be the one to do it.
“I know you’re nervous, but this could be a good call too.”
I sucked in a breath and curled my hand around Cara’s, desperate for the security she gave me. How would I do this without them? They’d tell me they had faith and that I could get through anything. But I didn’t want to be without them.
I didn’t want to be passed on again.
With the heaviness in my gut growing, I answered the phone. Forcing a cheery tone I didn’t come close to feeling, I said, “Hey, Grant. How are you?”
“Hux, I’m good. Good to see you having kept out of the tabloids and off social media.” His dig wasn’t subtle, but frankly, I was beyond caring. It was precisely the reason why I knew I was doomed for transfer.
“What do you have for me?” I asked, cutting to the chase.
Grant took the hint and dropped his lecture. “A contract. A good one, too. But first I have some news about Minns.”
I swallowed and looked across to where he was sitting with Mironov. They had their heads together and were talking. Chris looked up at me, his eyes red rimmed and shining like he’d been trying not to cry. Mironov ignored me, an improvement on his determination to pulverize me a week ago.
Grant continued, not bothering to wait for me to speak. “His agent just advised me that he’s going on the player assistance program.”
“What?” I asked, shock surging through me. The whole room tipped as my body slipped forward. I braced my elbows on my knees and rasped, “Why?” My voice sounded strangled and rough.
“I don’t know. You tell me, Hux,” he shot back, all pretence at being polite gone. “Because it seems like his marriage is falling apart and so is he because of your doing, and while he’s struggling, you’re out there finding another woman to throw in his face.”
Like flicking a switch, my shock morphed into anger. Betrayal and disbelief warred for prominence. Fuck him. Fuck this. I wasdone.
“His marriage is fucking fine,” I seethed through clenched teeth. I wasn’t egotistical enough to think that the world revolved around me, but this was some fucked-up shit. He wasactually continuing this bullshit story. He was going to go on leave and pretend to work his shit out with his wife when he was the one to pursue me? They’d wanted my dick and ass as much as I’d wanted to make things work with them. They’d already tossed me away, and now they were throwing me under the bus a second time for good measure? I was going quietly. I hadn’t gone to the press with Minns’s secret. I hadn’t betrayed his confidence—I’d told all of two people, people who I trusted to never breathe a word to another human being. Fuck him. Fuck the both of them.
Grant’s voice was softer, gentler when he implored, “Talk to me, Hux. The team knows something, but Keeley’s not talking. She wants to do a press release, but Minns is refusing. I need to know how to handle things. Explain to me what happened between you and Kamirah.”
“No.”
“Don’t make me walk into this blind. We’re going to have to get on the front foot and have a statement prepared this time. Silence won’t cut it, especially not with the team making waves and this contract sitting on my desk.”
My lungs seized. The air crushed out of me like an accordion being compressed.
The edges of my vision tinged black, and the room spun.
Then Roe filled my line of sight. He was on his knees in front of me. He squeezed my calves as he pushed closer. “Breathe,” he whispered.
