by Kat Mizera
He desperately needed to go home. As soon as he got back to the hotel, he was going to leave Brock a message. He’d be at training camp, but he would call back so Vlad would leave the ringer on his phone on overnight. He owed Coach Vlacic’s team one more practice, but as soon as he was done tomorrow, he would make the reservation to fly home. He’d found out as much as there was to find out in Russia; everything else that was important was back in the U.S.
22
Vlad got back to Las Vegas late that Friday. He was exhausted and took a cab straight to his apartment. If he was going to be in any shape for training camp, he had to get a good night’s sleep, so he took a shower and dropped into bed. It wasn’t until morning he noticed how empty the apartment seemed without Rachel’s things. She’d taken everything that was hers, from clothes to toiletries to the framed pictures on his dresser. It was like she’d never been there at all, and the emptiness he felt was hard to describe. Not knowing what was going to happen with the team made things that much more intense and he reluctantly pulled out his phone to call Coach Barnett.
“Where the hell are you, Kolnikov?” Coach didn’t sound happy.
“I’m home, Coach.”
“You sleep?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Get your ass to the arena. One hour.” He disconnected.
Vlad sighed and quickly made a protein shake while he got dressed. Mostly likely he wouldn’t be on the ice unless Coach made him skate laps until he puked. That wasn’t Coach Barnett’s style, but Vlad was fairly certain no one on the Sidewinders had ever failed to report to training camp before. They were probably going to make an example of him, and he had no choice but to endure it. He had to get through it, even though he was distracted and emotionally exhausted. Physically, he was prepared for whatever Coach dished out, but mentally, it was going to be harder.
Sucking down the protein shake, he headed down to his car. Lucia usually brought him a lot of joy every time he got in her. Today, he might as well have been driving a twenty-year-old Honda. He was out of sorts, disappointed in what had happened in Russia and, worst of all, disappointed in himself. He’d made a mess of his entire life out of some ridiculous search for a fairy tale. He didn’t know what he’d been looking for, but it definitely wasn’t what he’d found.
He grabbed his bag and walked into the arena, wondering what the day would bring. Technically, they couldn’t fire him, but they could make him miserable enough to want to leave. Since none of his teammates were here yet, he dropped his bag in the locker room before heading up to Coach Barnett’s office. He knocked once and opened it when Coach called out.
“Hey, Coach.”
“Have a seat.” Coach Barnett motioned with his hand.
“Thanks.” Vlad sank into a chair and looked over at the man he’d come to respect a great deal over the last three years; he hated that he’d let him down.
“You want to tell me what the hell’s going on with you?”
“Anything I tell you will sound like me making excuses so—”
“The only way for us to get past this is complete honesty. What happened to you, son? That stunt at your wedding, running off to Russia, missing camp? Talk to me, man-to-man, not coach-to-player.”
“I…” Vlad’s voice trailed off as he rubbed his hands down his face. “The truth? I thought a bastard with no heritage couldn’t be man enough to marry a woman like Rachel Kennedy.”
“A bastard… Because your parents weren’t married?”
Vlad nodded. “I know this is old country thinking, not a big thing in the U.S. anymore, but the way I grew up…”
Coach shook his head. “There are still plenty of people who frown on that, but no one knows that about you. You grew up in an orphanage. For all anyone knows, your parents were killed and that was that.”
Vlad gave him a brief summary of what he’d discovered. “So technically, I am a bastard, born to an unmarried woman, but that’s not even the problem anymore.”
“What is?”
“I thought discovering the truth would offer relief. Instead, I’m just empty.”
“You’re empty because you walked away from your home, your friends, the woman you love, and your team in search of some missing link that didn’t mean shit. Vlad, you’re the man you are in spite of your past, not because of it. Whatever your parents were thinking, you have to remember that people like that—freakin’ government agents, spies, whatever—aren’t like the rest of us. They live a life we can’t even imagine, so she must have thought she was doing what was best for you. Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t, but she’s dead and she made sure you had this…” He made a sweeping motion with his hand.
Vlad nodded. “I just thought… Hell, I don’t know what I thought.”
“As your coach and your friend the last few years, I get it. We want to be the men from the old days: Tough, smart, passionate, and hard-working, with some sort of legacy to leave our kids. Not knowing who you were made you feel like something was missing, but as someone who’s watched you become a man the last couple years, I can tell you nothing is missing. Except maybe a little common sense. But they say us guys don’t finish maturing until we’re twenty-six, something about the prefrontal cortex. Had to study up on it when I was coaching college cause those boys had about as much sense as my nine-year-old grandson sometimes. So give yourself a break. You’ve accomplished a hell of a lot more than most guys your age, especially guys who didn’t have a strong family behind them. Life as a hockey player is hard, and the way you did it? Impossible for most men. Don’t get hung up on the past. Trust me on that.”
Vlad nodded, looking down. “I don’t know what to do now.”
“About what?”
Vlad looked up, feeling more like a kid than he’d felt when he actually was one. “Everything.”
Something in Coach Barnett’s eyes changed, softening slightly. “Kid, if it was up to me, I’d send you home to my wife and let her feed you and spoil you with attention from the ultimate mom. Then I’d come home and we could sit up half the night watching film from when we won the Stanley Cup, drinking beer and telling bad jokes. And tomorrow we’d come to work like nothing had happened.”
“You can’t do that, Coach.”
“I said that’s what I’d do if it was only up to me. Unfortunately, there’s a whole team out there that has to respect me. And unless you want the whole world knowing you let your inner demons make some really dumb decisions, I have to do something different.” He paused, staring out the window. “First, I’ll need a five-thousand-dollar check made out to the Players’ Emergency Assistance Fund.”
Vlad nodded. “Yes, of course.”
“Today, you run drills with the rookies that are trying out. Although it looks like punishment for you, it’s a good thing for them, let them work with a seasoned vet who’s not that much older than them.”
“Done.”
“You’ll play on the fourth line during the pre-season games.”
Vlad winced but didn’t say anything.
“And healthy scratch the first two games of the season.”
Vlad sighed. “Yes, okay.”
“Cody may have a special punishment for you, but that’s between you, him, and the rest of the guys.”
“I understand.”
“We good?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Go on, get changed. It’s going to be a long day for you.”
Vlad opened his mouth but shut it again. Shit. He needed to see Rachel, talk to her in person, but there was no way Coach was giving him any time off, not after all this. He got to his feet reluctantly, grateful he hadn’t ruined his career but frustrated all the same.
“Hey, Vlad?” Coach Barnett called out to him as he reached the door.
“Yes?”
“Have you talked to Rachel?”
Vlad shook his head. “She won’t talk to me.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I can’t do anything. She�
�s in L.A. and I’m here. Unless you want me to miss more camp, there’s nothing I can do. I’ve sent flowers, gifts, texts… She said if I continue to text her she’ll block me. If you have ideas, I’m listening.”
Coach Barnett shook his head. “I can’t help you with that, son, but the next pre-season game is in L.A. I may not notice if you’re not on the plane with the team that morning, if you flew down early to get some practice in.”
Vlad didn’t respond, merely nodded his understanding and slipped out, shutting the door firmly behind him.
When he walked into the locker room, a cheer went up and half a dozen of his friends laughingly asked where the hell he’d been. He took the good-natured ribbing without saying much, just acting like he normally did and telling them to mind their own business. No one brought up Rachel and he was glad he didn’t have to talk about it because he still didn’t know what he would say. Of course, his closest friends—Brock, Toli, Zakk, and Viggo—weren’t here yet. Viggo! Shit. If Jamie and Rachel were involved again, what did that mean for Viggo? He nearly groaned just thinking about it but stayed focused on getting his gear on.
“Look who decided to show up.” As team captain, Cody was probably the only one who would’ve said something so blatant, and Vlad had been expecting it.
“Hi.” He glanced up, unsure how to behave. Toli and Dom were with him, the two alternate captains, and they motioned him into the hallway.
“You and Coach Barnett squared away?” Cody asked him once it was just the four of them.
“Yeah.”
“Dinner on you the next two games.”
“Dinner?” Vlad frowned.
“For the whole team.” Cody winked. “Including alcohol.”
“Uh, yes… Okay.” Vlad swallowed hard. Those would be two very expensive dinners.
Cody and Dom walked into the locker room but Toli stayed behind, eyeing him. “So? What’s going on?”
Vlad turned to him. “Is she back with Jamie?”
“Not that I know of.” Toli seemed genuinely confused.
“He hasn’t checked in with me at all. That has to be why.”
“No. He’s angry with you for hurting her. As far as any of us knew, there was no reason. You just woke up and decided you didn’t want to get married. None of us knew you were having second thoughts, so to all of us who saw what you did, it looked like you were just being an asshole.”
Vlad nodded. “Da. I know.”
“Plus, with the illness, Jamie’s been there for her because she’s had to keep it out of the media. She was—”
“Illness?” Vlad’s head snapped up and he stared at Toli. “What are you talking about?”
Toli frowned. “The cancer… She had surgery.”
“Cancer?” Vlad thought sure his head was going to explode. “Surgery? And no one told me?”
“I thought you knew. She was careful not to let it leak to the press; her publicist released a statement about having her gallbladder removed. She didn’t want anyone to know, but I assumed Brock told you.”
“Fuck!” Vlad fumbled for his phone before realizing it was in his bag in the other room. “I have to see her—I have to talk to her!” He started to move but Toli put one of his large hands on Vlad’s shoulder.
“Don’t call—go. She won’t answer and unless you’re standing at her door, she won’t want to talk to you. Go to L.A.”
“I can’t… I have to be here. I’m already in trouble.”
“How bad?”
“A fine, I’m being moved to the fourth line for now. Two healthy scratches the beginning of the season. Nothing I can’t handle, but I can’t leave. Not today.”
“Did you ask Coach?”
“He said I could go to L.A. early, before the pre-season game on Monday.”
“Okay, that’s only two days from now. In the meantime, focus on hockey and showing the team you’re serious about this. Once we find out Sunday’s schedule, get your ass to L.A.”
“Yeah, that’s the plan.”
“Fix this shit, Vlad. She deserves better.”
“I know, but…what if she won’t give me another chance?”
“You find a way to convince her.”
They headed back inside, and Vlad suddenly remembered to ask him about the jersey. “Hey, Toli…”
“Yeah?”
“Did you ever play at Coach Novoseltsev’s academy in Moscow?”
Toli frowned. “No, why?”
“I… Never mind. I’ll tell you later.” He went to his locker to wait for Brock to arrive. They had a lot to talk about. Though this situation with the pictures might be important, his trip to Russia had proven the Sidewinders and Rachel had to be his priorities. Everything else had to wait.
23
Vlad was exhausted by the end of the day. Coach hadn’t been kidding when he’d said it was going to be a long one, and by the time he was packing up to go home he was wiped. He and Brock had barely exchanged more than few nods over the course of the day, which meant Brock was pissed at him, but he was pretty mad, too. The fact Brock had kept such a big secret from him hurt and though he’d hurt Rachel, this wasn’t fair. He understood Brock wanting to protect her after Vlad disappeared, but not telling him about her cancer? There were definitely going to be words now that practice was over.
Vlad left first, putting his bag in the Corvette and waiting patiently for Brock to come out. Finally, one of the last guys to leave, Brock came out the exit and walked towards his truck. Vlad leaned against it, arms folded over his chest.
“What’s up?” Brock threw his bag in the back, not looking Vlad in the eye.
“I know she’s sick,” Vlad ground out. “You want to explain why I had to find out through the grapevine instead of from my best friend?”
“Best friend?” Brock narrowed his gaze on him. “My best friend wouldn’t have walked out twenty minutes before his wedding and left me there to explain why to almost five hundred people. Not to mention having to be the one to console Rachel, who still probably thinks I know more than I do.” Brock was definitely pissed.
“My best friend would’ve understood I panicked,” Vlad snapped back.
“A real best friend would’ve fucking texted me something was up and fucking talked to me.”
“I had a fucking anxiety attack!” Vlad hissed, shoving Brock. “I could barely use my fingers.”
Brock shoved him back and glared. “So you drove away while you were having a panic attack? Are you fucking stupid?”
“I had to get away.” Their voices were getting louder and a couple of the guys who hadn’t left yet were staring, unsure whether to get involved.
“It was a dick fucking move!” Brock shoved him again.
“I know!” Vlad shoved him back, this time slamming him against the truck.
Brock elbowed him in the ribs with a growl, knocking him away and pointing a finger at him. “Don’t put this on me ’cause you lost your girl—that’s not on me. You did that all by yourself.”
“So, she really is back with Jamie?” Vlad’s fists were clenched at his side, twitching, the urge to swing getting stronger with each passing moment.
“No, she’s not fucking back with Jamie.” Viggo closed one of his massive beefy fists around Vlad’s wrist, preventing him from throwing a punch. “What the hell is wrong with you two?”
“What the fuck were those pictures about?” Vlad whirled on him, eyes blazing.
Viggo didn’t even flinch. Though he and Vlad were about the same height, Viggo had a good thirty pounds on the younger man and most people thought twice about going at him, both on and off the ice. He didn’t play the role of enforcer, but his sheer bulk made it look like he did.
“Those pictures were of a kind, caring man stepping up to the plate for a friend who had no one else to turn to. Even though it made his husband a bit jealous and portrayed him as a possible adulterer, he shouldered that burden without a second thought to himself. Because that’s who Jamie is. Now, how about
you settle down and show us who you are.”
Vlad took a step back, breathing hard though the fire had left his eyes. “I don’t know who I am,” he said after a slight hesitation. “I thought I did, but I don’t. I don’t fucking know anything anymore.” He turned towards his car, but Brock stepped in his path, blocking him.
“Jesus, man, don’t do this. Not again.”
“Do what?” Vlad growled, trying to fight through a wave of emotion that was bound to make him do something embarrassing any second now.
“Run away. You already did that once and look how it turned out. Stay. Talk to me. Fuck, did you not just call me your best friend?”
“Yeah.” Vlad couldn’t look him in the eye.
“Let’s go grab something to eat. Ashleigh’s in L.A., so I have nothing else to do but be there for you. That’s what friendship is, man. Do I have to spell this out?”
“No.” Vlad cleared his throat. “No, I… I’m grateful.” He turned to Viggo. “You want to come? If Jamie’s in L.A.…”
Viggo shrugged. “I could come hang out, if you feel like company.”
“I do.” Vlad was struggling, uncomfortable with this kind of intimacy with his friends. He’d only ever experienced this with Rachel. Although he and Brock were close, their friendship centered more on hockey, video games, and—before Rachel and Ashleigh—picking up women. Now it had morphed into something more solid, like brothers, and the only other guy to come close to that was Toli. It was time to step out of his comfort zone and let people in. He’d done it with Rachel and had no regrets, so maybe this was the next step in his life.
“So let’s go then,” Brock said. “I’m starving. You still order from that Chinese place around the corner?”