by Denise Bower
“I should have walked,” I said as the bus pulled away from the curb. My stomach flipped and twisted with every turn of the bus.
“Do not puke on me,” Alex warned.
I managed to get myself into the rink without losing my breakfast. When we arrived at the arena, Hank snuck up behind me and shoved a smoothie in front of my face.
“No one would tell me what you did last night, but the captain said you needed this.”
“This is Cam’s fault.” I growled and stumbled down the hall toward the small weight room assigned to the visiting team. Several guys strolled in awaiting my instructions. I grunted and started stretching. Each movement made my head pound, but I kept focused and led them through a short round of yoga. When I’d had enough, I sent them away to get ready for practice.
“Do I want to know?” Johan asked from the doorway.
“No,” I grumbled. “I’m going for a run unless you need me to skate with the guys.”
“Not unless you have some good ideas on how to improve our power play,” he said.
“Score goals,” I answered.
“Yeah, that would be the thing to do.”
“I won’t be on the bus. I’m running back to the hotel,” I said.
He nodded and told me to drink plenty of water so I wouldn’t dehydrate, which meant he knew more than he let on.
The run took longer than anticipated because I had to drag out my phone after I made a few wrong turns. Thankfully I was able to find the hotel and my room, where I took a long, hot shower and had a nap. Feeling refreshed and almost human, I packed my bag and dressed for the game.
Several of the guys tried to ask me about last night, but I grunted and shooed them away, telling them to go do their warm-ups. They refused to give up and came at me in waves, trying to trick me into telling them something. Finally Cam shouted at them to get their heads into the game.
“Vika, what are you doing?” Hank asked when he found me sitting in the hallway next to the tunnel leading to the ice. “Game is starting. You watching?”
“Maybe,” I said.
He shrugged and went to take his place on the bench. My hangover seemed to be rearing its ugly head again, or maybe my sickness was from thinking about the skaters who were competing across town. The noise from the game intensified my headache. I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes, thinking back to last night and trying to remember anything. My mind refused to cooperate, staying a blank slate.
“Vika,” Cam said. He loomed over me like a vulture in a tree.
“Are you going to tell me what happened last night?”
“Nothing happened,” he said. “C’mon, let’s go.”
“I don’t want to watch the game. I’ll stay in here,” I said.
“Victoria,” he said firmly.
“Your stupid captain voice doesn’t work on me,” I said.
He cleared his throat loudly, which forced me to meet his gaze. I immediately noticed he had on his jacket and hat, and he suddenly thrust my coat in my face.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
“I have permission from Johan. We’re heading over to watch Skate America.”
“No way,” I shouted and tossed my coat back at him.
“Yes, we are.”
I flipped him off. “You’re not my dad, nor are you my captain. I’m needed here.”
“You need to face this head on,” he said. “To know if you made the right decision.”
“I did.” I frowned at him and folded my arms over my chest, ready to stand my ground.
“That’s not what you said last night.”
I immediately deflated, because I had no idea what had transpired around the shots and beer.
“I was under the influence, so you cannot hold it against me.”
“I can make you go, but I’d like you to come with me freely.”
“Why are you doing this?” I whined.
“Because you’re good at what you do. But you need to figure out if this is where you’re really supposed to be. You don’t want to live a life full of regrets. They suck.”
With those final words, I gave in and let him help me into my coat and jam a hat on my head.
“We discussed this last night, but from your blank stare, you can’t remember anything. Here’s my story. I could have stayed in the NHL. Several teams wanted me, but not as a captain. I’ve been a captain all of my life, and I had a no-trade clause in my contract with the Hawks. I invoked it and asked them to assign me here. Everyone believes I’m a fucking selfish prick, and maybe I am, but I wanted to end my career as a captain, not riding the bench as a role player. Every day I think I made the wrong decision, that I should’ve retired, but then I step on the ice and that feeling changes.”
In some way, I wanted to shout at him and tell him to get out of my business, but in another way, I understood him. I nodded and he continued.
“Now I’m beginning to believe I want to learn to coach. I love the game and wish I could keep playing, but the body betrays even the best of players. I just can’t imagine life without hockey. Johan keeps telling me I have the coaching gene. He’s threatening to mentor me through the season and then find me a job after I retire.”
“It sounds like you found your answer,” I said. “I’m not really interested in exploring mine right now.”
“This is a great opportunity for you to face things. Watching on TV isn’t the same as seeing everyone in person, and I’ll be there for you to lean on.”
I pursed my lips, refusing to admit he was right. I’d managed to shove skating to the side, and only recently had I even considered I missed it.
“I don’t really like you right now,” I growled.
“So are you coming without making a scene?”
“This is highly unorthodox,” I said. “Why would Johan agree to this?”
“He trusts my judgment to know what my teammates need.”
I thought about arguing the whole teammate thing, but it wasn’t worth putting in the effort. “Fine. It’s your party.”
He led me outside, where a cab was waiting to take us somewhere I really didn’t want to be. My nerves kicked into high gear with each passing mile, and when we pulled up in front of the arena with all the flashing lights and signs, I covered my face. Cam instructed the cabbie to drive to the back of the building. When the taxi stopped, Cam almost had to drag me out of the backseat.
“Show everyone how tough you are,” he said. I leaned on him and walked the short distance. A guy wearing a Hawks jacket met us at the door.
“Cam, my man. I thought you were playing tonight?”
“Tweaked my hammy,” Cam said.
“So you came to see a skating competition? You doing one of the skaters?”
“Nah, I brought a friend,” Cam said and pulled me by my sleeve so I was standing in front of him.
“Sorry, ma’am.” The guy scrutinized me and glanced over his shoulder. My gaze followed his movement and fell on a stupid poster of me with Viktor. He turned back and forth a few times before raising an eyebrow.
“Great,” I mumbled and tried to stomp on Cam’s foot.
“Everyone is talking about you.” He snapped his fingers. “Victoria Campbell.”
“I know who I am,” I said.
Cam elbowed me in the side and glared at me.
“Sorry, I’m a little tense.” I gave the guy a weak smile.
“Vika, this is Georgie Porgie. I used to play juniors with him. You still making all the girls cry, Georgie?”
“C’mon, Captain. Shut your mouth.” He scowled at Cam, but he did hold the door open for us.
“George is just fine,” he said to me before he put Cam into a headlock.
They scuffled for a few seconds, laughing and shoving each other. Finally Cam nudged me further into the arena. I stayed in his shadow, clinging to the darkness, hoping desperately no one would notice my presence. When we neared the ice, I stood by the Zamboni, trying to become one with the
machine.
Music filtered down from the rink, followed by cheers and the announcer asking for the scores for some couple from Russia. I’d never heard of them and it hit me hard; the skating world had moved on without me.
My knees almost buckled when the announcer called Viktor and Chelsea’s names. I peered around the Zamboni and watched as he held her hand tightly, leading her toward the ice. And then big mouth Francie from France spotted me and pandemonium ensued. Things were so loud, Viktor stopped and turned around. I threw my shoulders back, raised my chin, and pasted on a bright smile.
Media rushed toward me, shoving microphones and cameras in my face. A few competitors called my name and waved. Cam stepped in front of me and held everyone at bay. Eventually I allowed a few of the skaters to hug me while cameras flashed. Everyone seemed to have forgotten that Viktor and his partner were supposed to be skating until a frazzled official yelled at them to get on the ice or they would be disqualified.
Viktor looked visibly shaken, nervously running his hands through his hair, then rubbing his palms on his thighs. When we had skated together, I’d been able to calm him with a squeeze of my hand and a brush of my lips against his neck. Chelsea hovered near him but didn’t have a clue how to settle him. Her eyes darted back and forth, making me dizzy, and for a minute I thought she was going to bolt. Finally their coach managed to get them to focus. Viktor stiffened, standing tall, and I knew he had slipped into competitor mode.
“C’mon,” Cameron said. “Let’s watch them.”
I tried to resist, but Cam laced his fingers with mine and inched me closer to the ice. I took a deep breath and focused on the new couple.
They both fell on their opening triple Salchows and she wiped out on their first throw jump. The lifts were shaky, and they definitely didn’t have the same synchronization that used to be a trademark of Viktor and me. But we’d skated together for over ten years.
I felt some glee in their failures, which made me feel like an awful person. Having me show up right before they were due to skate probably threw them off their game. I still wanted to throttle Viktor for tossing me aside, but I also wanted to thank him because, without his choices, shitty or not, I wouldn’t have my job with the Ravens. Having so many conflicting emotions at the same time was enough to drive a person crazy.
When they came off the ice, Viktor paused, glancing between Cam and me. I couldn’t help but gape at him. We stood facing each other, both lost in moments past. Chelsea cautiously approached him but quickly shuffled toward the kiss-and-cry area when I narrowed my eyes at her.
Viktor finally opened his mouth to say something to me, and my instinct to run almost kicked in. Cam saved me by suddenly announcing we needed to return to the hockey game. Without looking back, I jogged out of the arena to jump into the waiting cab. Cam hurried after me, commanding me to slow down, but I ignored his orders. The minute he shut the car door, I started laughing hysterically.
“That was weird. I feel mean and shitty, yet pleased and happy. Oh my god,” I said, wheezing loudly, breath turning into a hiccupping sob. I leaned against the window, and a few tears spilled down my cheeks. “I should have punched Viktor in the gut.”
“You did that by being there.”
“Did you know he broke off our relationship by sending me a text? Punching him for real would’ve felt better.”
“What a jerk,” he said. “We should have stayed for their scores.”
“Not necessary,” I said. “The judges were not going to be kind to them.”
“We could’ve laughed.”
I snorted. “And have the cameras shoved in my face again. The TV commentators are probably saying things like ‘It’s early in the season’ and ‘Surely they’ll be going back to the rink to work on things.’ And I’m sure they’re having a field day speculating why I was in attendance and how my presence affected their performance.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t think about that.”
He stuck his lip out and pretended to pout.
“I’m not mad,” I said.
We made it back to the hockey game with a minute remaining in the third period. The guys had staged a comeback and won the game 4-3. They were stoked when they came off the ice, shouting and high-fiving each other.
Everyone was bursting with energy while I was drained and had nothing to offer. I sighed and leaned against the wall, trying to settle down after the nerve-racking evening. I wanted to head to the bus and forget this night happened, but Cam had other ideas. He ushered me into the locker room, where the team was busy celebrating their hard-fought victory.
The guys immediately quieted when the captain stopped in the middle of the room with me, firmly planted at his side. He surveyed them and then picked up this ridiculous, gigantic crystal thing, cut in the shape of a diamond, reserved for the player of the game. The reason behind the prize was because apparently Ravens liked shiny things.
Cam turned the diamond over in his hands, took a deep breath, and handed it to me.
“She gets it tonight, for being tough and standing her ground.”
Everyone wanted to know why, but Cam made it perfectly clear no questions would be tolerated.
“This weekend is off-limits unless she decides to talk about it,” Cam said sternly.
The room was quiet for about four seconds. Silence was broken when the guys all let out a loud yell and tossed their smelly jerseys at me again. I dashed out of the room before I was faced with articles of clothing worse than jerseys. It was becoming something of a tradition to throw dirty clothes at me.
“Give me a hand,” Hank shouted as he carried an armful of sticks toward the exit.
He ordered me around and I tried to help, but between the lingering hangover and the emotional drain I’d experienced tonight, I was more of a hindrance.
“Vika,” he said, exasperated when I knocked over the bag of dirty jerseys.
“I know. Cam made me face some of my demons tonight and I’m exhausted.”
He stared at me but kept his mouth tightly closed and shooed me away. I didn’t wait for him to change his mind. I trudged to the bus, curled up with my diamond, and didn’t wake until we pulled into the parking lot of our arena. I waved off a ride from Alex and walked inside, heading straight for the rink.
I inhaled the cold air, sat on the bench, and dialed Sawyer.
“Doll,” he said. “It’s Sunday morning, and I was having the most wonderful dream. And now I’m awake and in some godforsaken shitty hotel room. This better be good.”
“I saw Viktor last night at Skate America.”
He gasped into the phone, and I could hear sheets rustling. “Good grief! You win. Let me pour myself a glass of wine.”
“It’s eight o’clock in the morning.”
“I’ll make it orange juice.”
“It’s been a strange weekend,” I said, hunching so my elbows were digging into my knees. “I drank on Friday night and woke up in the captain’s room. Alex busted me, and now the team thinks I slept with the captain.”
“Did you?”
“No,” I snapped. “At least that’s what he told me.”
“Oh, doll. Maybe you should have. It’s time to move on from Viktor,” Sawyer said. “I’ve seen pictures of your captain. He’s delightfully hot.”
I gaped at the phone. I didn’t have a problem with age differences, but Cam acted more like an older brother. The thought of sleeping with him had never crossed my mind.
“Moving on,” I said.
“Fine. You’re no fun. Tell me how you ended up at Skate America.”
“It was Cam’s idea.”
“Really? I need to meet this man. He sounds fascinating,” he said. “If I would have made the suggestion to go, you would’ve threatened to slice me with your skate or something equally horrible.”
“Did I make the right decision?”
“Are you talking about going to Skate America, quitting skating, or taking the job with the Ravens?
”
“I’m not sure anymore.”
“Only you can answer that question.”
“You’ve been acting weird lately. Did you make the right decision to sign with the show?”
“No,” he stated firmly.
His answer didn’t really surprise me. “Do you need to talk?”
“Not yet,” he said. “I’m formulating a plan.”
“What happened to us, Soy?”
“Life, doll. Just life.”
“Well, I don’t like it much,” I confessed.
Chapter 7
The players had the day off, but I wasn’t that lucky. After a quick trip home to dump my luggage and take a shower, I dragged myself back to the rink to catch up on paperwork and make plans for the players who had sustained injuries. I was surprised most of the staff was in today. Unless there was a game, Sunday was usually a day off. When I dropped a bunch of the stuff on Margo’s desk, she eyed me curiously. By the strange look on her face, I knew someone had talked about my weekend adventures.
“Why are you in today?” I asked, hoping to sidetrack her.
“Problems with tickets.” She tapped her nails on her desk. “I heard it was an interesting weekend. I do want to hear about it sometime.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Mmhmm,” she said.
I hurried out of her office, muttering something about Hank needing me. I wasn’t really fibbing to her. I did need to talk to him. When I finally had a moment to breathe, I searched out Paulie, who told me the practice sheet of ice was free. Which meant I would be able to fulfill my promise.
“Am I ready for this?” I asked myself.
Too bad I didn’t really have an answer. The only thing I was sure about was Shelby needed my time. She’d already suffered so many terrible things in her young life, and I didn’t want to let her down. The kid deserved a chance. She’d been trying to keep up the happiness façade to appease Alex and me, but I could tell she was disappointed in her current skating coach, and probably in me as well, for not fulfilling my promise. She was only keeping quiet because she didn’t want to put more pressure on Alex. He was a ticking time bomb.