by Raine Miller
“I know you feel abandoned and betrayed,” he begins. When I start to shoot back a biting response, he raises his hands in what looks like surrender and keeps speaking. “I love you. Nothing about that has changed. I’ve always loved you. Always tried to protect you. I know I messed up, in so many ways, but here you are now. Safe. Successful. Smart. I must have done some things right, didn’t I?”
I think about this for a moment and then give a nod. When I think about my father, I have really only good memories. It’s only been the last few years, the not knowing, Stephen’s death, that makes me feel so angry and confused.
“Vlad says your father is very successful here,” Viktor says quietly in my ear. “I think he tells truth to you.”
My father nods. “It wasn’t easy here at first. They have ways of keeping you on the straight and narrow over here. But I had a financial rebirth. I used my skills to build a brand. I learned the sport of hockey and worked on a business plan, and now I’m majority owner of a Russian Junior Hockey League minor team that feeds players directly into the KHL. It’s a real career. Real money. And I’m free of my old debts.”
“Scarlett, he owns Salavat Yulaev. This is the team I played for right before I went pro. Is hard to believe, but your father is a true hockey businessman now,” Viktor informs me.
This is so much information. I thought we were coming here to see the sights, not reconnect with the past three years of my life. I turn to Viktor, feeling the crease form between my eyes, feeling the panic rising as I process everything I’ve heard today.
Viktor pulls me to face him. His forehead meets mine and he talks in a low voice as he holds my shaking hands. “This is the chance for you to be free, my love. Is way for you to let go of past and move forward. Las Vegas was my chance. This is yours, yes?”
“I’ve been carrying this weight for so long,” I say in a small voice.
“I know. I know, Scarlett. You are strong. Brave. You are not alone now, though. Not anymore.”
All the anger seems to dissipate, then, leaving behind a mixture of sadness and hope and forgiveness. He’s right. I’m not alone. I have him. My dad, who I love no matter what, is alive. Stephen was trying to help him, trying to do something good with a bad habit. I can let this go. I can choose to move on. With Viktor. And once I embrace this new revelation, I feel a lightness that I haven’t felt at all in my adult years.
“I love you.”
His big hand is suddenly on the back of my neck, his lips on mine. The kiss is quick, fierce. It shoots through my body like rocket fuel, strengthening me.
I turn back to my dad and realize it’s time to tell him I forgive him. “I love you too, Dad, and I forgive you. I just want my daddy back in my life somehow and however that happens I will just have to have an open mind about it.”
After another round of hugs, we talk for a while about my job with the Crush, and about how Viktor and I met. He tells me again how proud he is of me. Then he pulls up a web page for the team he owns.
“So I’ve been thinking,” Dad says. “See this dinosaur of a site? It needs a facelift. And we need some social media, though the rules here are different than they are in the US, I know we could really use someone like you. You could stay here, work with me. Help me build this thing even further.”
“Are you offering me a…job?”
He smiles. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m doing. You’ve got the chops. The experience. I can use you. And we can get to know each other again.”
I let out a funny little laugh. I’m not sure what I’m feeling, but it isn’t the desire to stay in Russia with my dad. I stand and he stands, and then I pull him into a tight hug. “Dad, I love you. I’m relieved you’re okay. I’m glad things are better for you. But my life is back in Vegas right now. I’m doing really well, and I love working for the Crush. And, you know, there’s a player I have my eye on.”
Viktor’s big form appears right behind me, his hand at the small of my back.
“Vik,” my dad says, salesman tone all over whatever he’s about to say next. “You could coach. Hang up those skates and help the next generation. Bring my daughter back to me?”
Viktor turns to me and takes my cheeks in his big but ever gentle hands. “You choose me over this possible career…with your papa, Scarlett?” I have never seen Viktor look so vulnerable yet confident, and then it comes to me. He was rejected many years ago. The girl he thought loved him chose her career over him. And I will never make that mistake. “Yes, Viktor. I choose you.” His eyes roam between mine and then the smile that overcomes his face is his most brilliant yet. God, I love this man. He turns back to my dad.
“Thank you, but no. Your daughter is my home. In Las Vegas.”
As I hug my father one more time, he tells me how much he loves me. How sorry he is. And I tell him this is the last time he has to apologize. We’re square. I’m okay.
And I am.
Twenty-Five
New Season - New Beginnings
Scarlett
October
Season opener.
I look down at the sweet little ring that nestles perfectly on my right ring finger. It’s got several small, gold leaves that intertwine, small diamonds sparkling through the vines and leaves. Viktor gave it to me as soon as we returned from Russia. He looked a little nervous when he pulled out the box, which made me nervous too. Even though we’ve both acknowledged we love each other, I’m not sure I’m ready for more just yet. He bought a gorgeous house in Summerlin and asked me to move in. Even though living together felt too soon, I couldn’t turn him down. He’s become a part of me.
This ring is a promise. That’s what he said. He told me it reminded him of the curves of my body, of the waves in my hair, of the way our limbs intertwined after we made love.
Right? I was swooning after that, too. He probably could have asked me to move to Mars and I would have followed him. I love how Viktor can move our relationship forward to a stronger place without me feeling pushed faster than what’s comfortable for me. He gets me. It’s strange but I realize he always has. From the very first, Viktor seemed to accept and understand me…and be satisfied with what I had to offer him. Always content to wait for me and be the steady and reliable man by my side. Something I never really had growing up but now realize I can’t live without. I need him and love him so much…and I believe it’s the same for him.
Pam grins from her seat next to me in the Crush owner’s box. It’s game one of the new season. Our men are back on Vegas ice, where they should be.
“That’s a cute little ring,” she says with a knowing grin.
“Yep, I like it a lot.”
“I’ll bet you like the dude who gave it to you even more,” she teases.
“Truth, I agree. He’s a pretty solid dude.”
“Solid,” she says, laughing. “That’s punny.”
“Puns are my side gig. But was that really a pun?”
“I mean, I think it was a pun.” Pam makes a funny face at me. “He’s a tank of a man. He’s pretty solid. You said he was solid. Pun.”
I shake my head and say, “I think if it requires this much discussion, it probably doesn’t count as a real pun.”
“Well, we’ll agree to disagree on this one,” she says, grinning. We turn our attention to the action down on the ice. “They look good out there. Focused.”
“They do,” I agree.
“Viktor’s already leading in votes for All-Stars?” she asks.
“Yeah, but it’s early in the season,” I say. “He could chuck somebody across the ice and be a hated villain again.”
“Fickle fans,” she says.
“He’s still Viktor,” I say with a shrug. “He’s a softer version of Viktor, at least with me and his teammates, but he’s still kind of a ginormous asshole on the ice.”
“He has the Mad Russian Enforcer brand to uphold,” she says, giggling.
“That he does.” I focus on my phone for a minute, watching for s
ocial media reaction to some of our pre-game promotions.
“I can’t believe Viktor found your dad in Sochi,” she comments before groaning at a hard check against the ice. “Oooh. I think that was Georg.”
“He okay?” I look up and Georg is arguing with the guy from the other team. The ref steps in and Georg skates off in a huff.
“Yeah, he’s okay,” she says. “Testosterone city down there. I can smell it.”
“Be careful. All that testosterone might get you pregnant, Pamela. Keep your legs closed.”
She laughs out loud at this. “Good lord. I’d be a terrible parent. Our kid would be totally shortchanged in that department.”
“Well, I turned out okay, despite the parent I got,” I say. “And Viktor only had to follow the breadcrumbs my dad left. Dad wanted us to find him.”
“You seem conflicted about this reunion,” she says gently.
“I’m not conflicted. I’m glad. It was good to put all that behind me. And I’m glad he’s doing well in Russia with his team. But I’m not daddy’s little girl anymore, you know?”
“I get you, friend. I totally get you.” Pam puts her hand on my leg and gives it a squeeze before returning to watch the game. It’s wonderful having a friend like Pam for support. I am so grateful to have her in my life.
Fiona sits next to me a few minutes later. “I just finished reading your full-length piece on the Russian summer league. I love how you wove Viktor and Georg’s backstories in. It was really well done.”
“Wow,” I say, feeling my eyebrows fly up into my forehead. “That’s a really nice compliment, Fiona, thank you.”
“I am capable of giving credit where credit is due,” she says. She taps her manicured fingernails together. “I wasn’t sure it was a great idea to invest in you going over there, but everyone really enjoyed the social media, and the story really ties it together. It’s a great off-season piece. Bravo.”
“It was a life-changing experience, and I thank you for the opportunity.” Even though management knows that Viktor and I are in a relationship and now living together, not one word was said about the dreaded non-fraternization policy by anyone. So we don’t mention it either. We both just do our jobs well and go about our business. I am not complaining. Knock on wood.
Fiona seems satisfied for the moment, stands up, and heads off to talk to Max Terry. I move to the window to get a few shots of the game from above. Viktor bought me a very nice camera after he saw the shots I got while we were in Russia. I’m giving Sid a run for his money now, I guess, doing some of the team’s official photography in addition to my other work.
I’m thinking about going back to school to study photography actually. Still mulling the possibilities, but excited to do something to build on the skills I’ve been honing here at the Crush. When I look down and see my man on the ice, working hard for his team, I’m doubly grateful for the past year. I feel lucky and happy and strong and independent. And being with Viktor doesn’t diminish any of those feelings at all—only enhances it.
Twenty-Six
Lovey Birdy
Viktor
Scarlett and I sit at a candlelit table in a small restaurant off the Strip. It is quiet here, and I don’t get as many requests for photos and autographs as in other, more popular places, so it has become our favorite place to eat.
Yes, I have started to sign autographs and take pictures with fans. I know, it is hard to believe, but Scarlett says it will help me to get more votes for All-Stars, so I have agreed.
“Tyler excited?” she asks. “He got a really nice, three-year contract.”
I nod. “As you can imagine, his excitement was very loud and colorfully spoken.”
“Well, your excitement is also sometimes very loud and colorfully spoken,” Scarlett says wryly.
“Different kind of excitement.”
“You have a very dirty sex mouth, Viktor.”
“You like my dirty sex mouth,” I answer.
She grins, her cheeks turning pink. “I might like it a little.”
“A lot,” I amend. “I know this because of the way your pussy clenches when I say dirty things to you.”
“Geesh,” she says, fanning herself with her hand. “No matter that we’re in a public place.”
“I will take you in the restroom and show you that it is no matter. I will have you any way, anyhow, anywhere.”
She looks around, seemingly contemplating this invitation, then gives me a mischievous grin. “While I enjoy our adventurous sexcapades, let’s talk about your meeting with Max. What did you guys talk about?”
I spear at my steak as I talk. “We talked about new contract, about bonuses. We talked about what happens if the Crush will win another championship this year.”
“Big money, that’s what,” Scarlett says.
“Yes,” I agree. “Many incentives for this year. Agents are doing their jobs well.”
“Are you sad you missed the Olympics?” she asks with a cute pout of her pretty lips.
“No,” I say. “Was happy to have a break from Olympic play.”
“Will you play in Milan for the next one?”
“If my body holds up and my country calls, I will serve in whatever capacity they need me.”
“Your body better hold,” Scarlett says. “I’ve got plans for it for a lot of years.”
I chuckle at this and wink at her.
“Did you just wink at me, Viktor Demoskev?” She acts mock-shocked. “Are you flirting with me?”
“Always,” I say. “I have had an offer to coach youth teams for a few weeks in the summer. You will join me in Russia? My mother and sister want to meet you.”
“Beat the Vegas heat? I’m totally there, baby. And I want to meet your family too. I was bummed your mom was away visiting your sister in Germany when we were there last summer.”
We have done FaceTime with her, so they know each other a little, but Scarlett and my mother must still meet in person and spend time together to really know one another. I have never cared to bring anyone home to meet my family before Scarlett. “It will be a nice break, yes? After our visit I will help the Crush bring the cup home to Las Vegas where it belongs.”
“That’s the spirit,” she says encouragingly. “But you’re so busy with games and travel, how will you find time for me?”
I stand and hold out a hand, pulling her to me. We slow-dance to the soft music in the restaurant, and I do not care who sees us. I love having her close, love feeling her curves against me. I kiss her temple, her jaw, her neck as she sighs in response.
“I will always make time for you. We are lovey-birdy,” I say against her sweet lips.
“Lovey-birdy?” With a giggle, she asks, “Do you mean lovey-dovey?”
“Yes, I think that is it. Besides, I need you to make time to recover from passionate lovemaking each day.”
We don’t stay for dessert. We can barely finish our meals we want each other so badly. When we return to our spacious new home, which is twenty miles from the glittering lights and constant sounds of the Strip, we’re both naked before getting five feet into the foyer.
I have her legs around my waist and my cock inside her as we hit the wall of the living room. Her gorgeous breasts are smashed against my chest, my mouth is on her neck as her fingernails dig into my ass.
This is not the first time we have christened this wall. It will not be the first time we fuck on the heavy, wood dining table. It will not be the first time I use my tongue to make her come in our oversized shower.
As the showerheads catch us from three different directions, I fall to my knees, spreading her lips with my fingertips, dipping my tongue inside of her. She moans and pushes her hips toward my face. I slip a finger inside, then two, moving in and out, sucking on her clit, driving her mad. Her legs nearly give out as she clenches, her fingertips pinching at those sweet, pink nipples.
“Come for me, sweet Scarlett,” I encourage. “Let me taste you.”
Her hi
ps move against my fingers, my mouth and then…she explodes spectacularly, crying out nonsense that is barely human and definitely not English.
I rise triumphant and pick her up, taking her against the shower wall, fucking her for the third time tonight. I cannot stop wanting her. I cannot stop loving her.
Later, we lie in our very large, new bed, wrapped up in one another. “I like this house,” Scarlett comments as a yawn escapes.
“I do also,” I say. “Is providing very nice places to fuck.”
“It also has a nice, big bed. Bigger than the tiny one in Russia.”
“I liked our bed in Russia. Was small but kept you close.”
“I liked it too,” she says snuggling in tighter to my side.
“This house is close to new practice facility,” I say. “That is good.”
“That’s pragmatic. Proximity to the practice facility is nice, but I was more thinking that this feels like a home. It feels like our place together, you know?”
I do know. And I tell her so in a language that has become very familiar to both of us.
Twenty-Seven
I Have Scarlett Fever
Scarlett
March
The Crush is a shoo-in for the playoffs. Work is super busy for me because of the hype. The team is playing strong, and we’ve had a lot of fun with the social media. I’ve also started writing feature articles and doing photos for an online magazine that we’re producing each month, in addition to preparing a photography installation for a local art gallery that’s doing a whole series on sports-themed art.
I’ll start taking classes at UNLV in the fall, which is exciting and nerve-wracking. And Viktor is already planning his summer in Russia. He’s been asked to play summer league again, but my dad’s comment about coaching got him thinking. There is a young protégé, just fourteen years old, whom Viktor has been mentoring all year. They do Skype sessions and exchange videos from the ice. I’ve covered a lot of it for the Crush, and fans are eating it up. So Viktor’s plan is to go to Russia and spend the summer working with this kid, hoping to get him ready for professional play by the time he’s sixteen.