Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 70518 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70518 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Lucy: That sounds like heaven. Let me talk to Sheridan to see how we can work it out.
Kon: I am looking forward to this. Very much.
Lucy: Me too.
I was lacing up my skates the next night in Philadelphia when Wes sank down beside me.
“I didn’t know if you’d heard the news,” he said. “But Miller just got traded to Philly yesterday. He’s in the lineup tonight.”
I froze.
It was inevitable I’d continue to face him on the ice as long as we both played, but up until now I’d had warning. I’d somehow missed that he’d been traded to Philadelphia. And now we were going to be out there together. With me stuck in goal where he could linger and talk shit all night.
The thing was, I’d moved on and Lucy gave me something to think about beyond the darkness that lurked just beneath my well-polished exterior. As a goalie, I didn’t mix it up often, and I always stayed focused. This was a distraction I didn’t need.
“Kon?” Wes was waiting for me to respond.
“I’m fine,” I said finally. “I don’t give a shit about him. That is in the past.”
“Okay. I just wanted you to know.”
“Thank you.” I nodded at him.
When I’d first found out about Keegan and Svetlana, I could have hurt him. My fists were considered lethal weapons back in Russia. I’d worked hard to get past that part of my life, tamp down the anger that had once driven me to violence, but it always lurked beneath the surface. The fact that I hadn’t killed Keegan when I’d caught him and Svetlana in bed together said a lot about how far I’d come. I was no angel, though, and walked an emotional tightrope when it came to keeping my temper in check.
I skated onto the ice for the pregame warm-up, taking a couple of laps before pausing in front of the bench. I’d stretched in the locker room, so I didn’t need to do anything else.
“You look like you’re going to murder someone,” Boone muttered under his breath as he stood next to me. “I’m not going to have to bail you out of jail, am I?”
“No. I am good.”
“Yeah, whenever someone says that it usually means the opposite.”
“Can you afford to bail me out if I am arrested?”
He paused. “Well, yeah, of course, but—”
“Then we have nothing to worry about.” I gave him a quick fist bump, hoping to lighten the mood even as he rolled his eyes at me.
Luckily, the first two periods were mostly uneventful and we were up 3–1. Keegan had smirked at me a few times, but if I got riled up every time someone smirked in hockey, we’d all be in trouble.
“How’s it goin’, Konstantin?” he asked, coming up on my right as we waited for the commercial break to end. No one ever used my full first name, so he was definitely up to something.
I ignored him but could practically feel my blood pressure amping up.
I was determined not to let him get to me.
Life was good.
I’d met someone special.
Things were still early for Lucy and me, but there was no mistaking the spark between us. The last thing I wanted was to slide down memory lane with Keegan fucking Miller.
“Did you know your ex-fiancée was a prostitute?” Keegan taunted, just loud enough for me to hear.
I took a pull from my water bottle, wondering how the fuck he’d found that out. Svetlana and I had never told a soul about our pasts. Despite what she’d done, I would never betray her like that. And no one had a right to say a fucking word about how we’d survived.
“You did know,” Keegan continued, finally making eye contact with me.
“You’re like a small buzzing insect,” I responded in Russian, knowing it would piss him off that he couldn’t understand me. “The kind I could squish under my boot.”
“Fuck you.” He skated away as the linesman got ready to drop the puck but I was nervous.
Not for myself, but I didn’t know for sure whether or not Svetlana had made it home to Russia. If Keegan was talking about her past publicly, it could impact her ability to stay in the US. Immigration could be tricky for someone like her.
The next face-off in our zone had Keegan off to my left and he immediately started running his mouth.
“Were you her pimp?” Keegan asked, inching closer to me. “Did you watch other guys fuck her? Was that how you got your kicks when you weren’t in the ring?”
Jesus. Fucking. Christ.
What the hell had Svetlana told him?
“You know that’s why I dumped her skanky ass, right?” he continued, as if we weren’t in the middle of a game.
“She got herself pregnant. Like I was going to marry a fucking whore.”
Pregnant.
“You should shut your fucking mouth before I shut it for you,” I growled, thankful for the game to start back up. It felt like we’d had a million commercial breaks and icing calls that had stopped the action and given him time to fuck with my head.