Page 36 of Actions and Reactions (All It Takes #5)

“If you do then we’re gonna make you throw it every year,” he warns, pointing a finger at my face. That finally cracks me up. And when I smile it feels like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. Now it feels like I might actually get to fight for the life I’ve always dreamed of with Si.

The last week of October starts with a frantic phone call from Hawk, and it’s as bad as I feared when I picked up—Wolf is back in rehab. He relapsed.

I don’t have any details, I have no clue what happened, and Hawk is falling apart. I can’t blame him, but I also know he can’t do anything for Wolf except support him. He can’t save his big brother and no one should have to.

The fact that he’s going right back to rehab is a good sign, in my opinion, though that’s based on the little I know about addiction and the twelve-step program.

I spend the day on the phone with everyone but Wolf, and that honestly makes me feel like shit.

I thought last month that I should talk to him, let him know I’ve always got his back, but I didn’t. I let everything with Si distract me from that, and all I can do now is send him a text that I have no clue if he’ll see or not.

November

Only a week later, we’re back in Vegas and playing against Chicago. I don’t tell anyone, but I sneak into our practice rink when they’re supposed to be there for practice and walk around looking for Lottie .

It takes me an hour to accept that she has to be on the ice, so I face the music and go to the bench.

“Lottie,” I whisper-shout. She spins around, clearly alarmed, and a smile overtakes her face when she sees me, but it turns into a frown pretty quickly.

I look at the Deep’s head coach and wince.

“I’m really sorry. I promise I didn’t hear or see anything, I just wanna talk to her.” I point uselessly and he grunts and nods once, then gestures at Lottie to go with me.

I take her to the hallway that leads to Gab’s office, since that’s the only empty space in the whole rink.

“How are you?” I ask, forcing myself to be polite.

Of course I care how she’s doing, she’s family, but I really, really want to ask her about Si.

A few texts a day is more than I believed we’d have when he told me he was leaving, but it’s still so little communication. I miss him all the freaking time.

I think my response to his letter was perfect, because I did appreciate it but I think we have to talk about it in person and not over text.

But fuck if I didn’t want to tell him I love him a million times.

I’ve had to stop myself from texting him that about five hundred thousand times, but I’ve resisted.

I’m not capable right now of saying all I want to say to him, because him telling me he loves me for the first time in a letter that he sent in a picture is kind of.

.. not enough. It would’ve been before, but not anymore.

I need to see it in his eyes when he says it, and I have to hear the words come out of his mouth to believe it .

Still, I’ve texted him every single day. He’s been on my mind constantly, and I think I’ve proven that, and I have to give it to him, he’s proven the same, but love?

No, I’m going to need more than words to believe that after everything we’ve been through.

I’ve been keeping most of the team’s news to myself since I don’t think he needs to hear about any of it right now, and okay, I might also be scared that it would actually do him more harm than good if I say anything about hockey right now.

He hasn’t brought up the subject again either, and I’m taking my cues from him on this. I have no idea what the long-term plan is for him—if he’s going to be able to keep working for the Pirates, if he even wants to, or what his treatment moving forward will be.

I can’t make any decisions yet, I need more information, so talking to Lottie is really the only thing I can do right now.

“I’m fine,” Lottie murmurs, then sighs deeply.

“And I know you care but you don’t actually care, so let me tell you this.

Si doesn’t know I’m here this week, and I doubt I’ll tell him.

We’ve only really talked about hockey when we’re with his therapist and I don’t want to upset him, but I know you guys have been texting. ”

“We have, and I’ve thought the same. I’m pretty sure he had our schedule memorized before he left, but I still don’t want to upset him. How is he? What’s the place like? He said it was nice and calm the other day. ”

“It is.” She nods a few times and I see her swallow hard. “It was touch and go there for a while, but I think he’s doing better now. Every week he seems a bit better. None of us knew he was going through all this, Vinny, or we would’ve?—”

“I didn’t know either,” I interrupt her. “And we were practically fucking living together.” I snap my mouth shut. I have no clue if he’s told her anything.

“I know, he told me back at the cabin.” She pats my arm and smiles up at me.

“Relax. And I think he was doing everything he could to lie to himself about doing okay, so don’t beat yourself up over it, okay?

” She steps back and takes another breath, then she snaps and throws her hands up.

“I mean for fuck’s sake, you hadn’t even seen him in years, Vinny.

But we had! We knew how much he changed back then and did nothing to help him. ”

“Lottie—”

“No, don’t.” She points at my face. “Don’t say I shouldn’t blame myself either. I was barely home, barely talking to him. Off having my fucking career and living it the fuck up. God .” She covers her face. “I feel like such a piece of shit.”

“Can I talk now?” I ask loudly. The only way to get through to her when she’s like this is to snap back.

“I’m gonna tell you what my dad told me.

When the fuck did you get a psychotherapy degree?

How the hell were any of you supposed to know?

The doctors at the hospital didn’t say shit about PTSD back then, did they? ”

“No, they didn’t,” she admits quietly .

“And you’re allowed to live your life, Lottie. Even now.”

“I’m actually flying back after our game against Denver so I don’t miss the family day this weekend. Eventually I’m gonna miss a week, but for now they’ve been pretty good about letting me miss a few games.”

“Of course they have, because they know you’re the best damn assistant coach in the league, and they want to keep you happy so you won’t go anywhere else like Laney did.”

“I guess,” she mumbles.

“Come on, Lottie.” I open my arms in invitation. She comes without protest, and hugging her for a while helps me calm down too. “We’re all going to have to get over the guilt if we’re going to move on from this,” I tell her quietly.

“He still feels guilty.”

“Over what?” I demand, but I don’t shout it even though I want to.

“Over his actions that day. Over his reactions since then.”

“He’s built an impressive enough career not even two years after graduating college that Gabrielle fucking Darnell made him head of PR of her team. He needs to get his head out of his ass.”

“I know.” She snorts and pulls back. “Thanks for coming over to talk to me, Vinny.”

“It was self-serving, but I’m glad I helped make you feel better. And he’s going to be okay, Lottie, he’s the strongest one out of all of us.” It’s hard to admit it for some reason, but I think it’s also the truth.

“You should tell that to Hulk,” she challenges with a smirk.

“I bet he’d agree,” I counter.

December

Our season is going well enough. Better than it was doing last year at this stage if I’m honest, but that was because Santa was being a dumbass about Charlie.

This year we’re just good .

We’re not great.

A winning record is a fickle thing, but we’re holding on to ours like a lifeline.

Knowing Mater’s gonna be gone soon too isn’t doing us any favors in the mentality department, and it means we’re going to have to draft really well—or Gab and Jake, our GM, will—to make up for all these damn losses.

Our farm team is looking good from what I’ve seen, but how the fuck do you replace three legendary D-men in two years?

You can’t.

It scares me that the most glorious years of my career might be behind me no matter what Gab says about me eventually becoming the best.

All of this, I want to talk through with Silas, but of course I haven’t. Another reason why I need to see him in person is to gauge how he’s really doing, because I can’t get any reliable information from texting.

Only two more weeks, though.

Two more weeks and I’ll be able to figure out how much better he’s really doing and whether we can move forward together or not.

I want us to . . . so, so much.

But it’s the not knowing that’s been killing me. To battle that I’ve been trying to focus on my job as much and as hard as I can.

Whenever I’ve needed to talk about Silas, Milkman’s had my back, and of course so has Mom, but I asked her to stop making me talk about it because she was getting a little too worried while I was only venting.

Having her at my place all these months has been pretty awesome—not gonna lie.

It’s been seven years since I’ve lived with her, and I didn’t realise how much I missed her. So with her I gossip—she has all of it—about Dad and Lex of course, as well as gossip from inside the team, which she loves the most.

It’s not a secret that Twocox has been in love with Lucy, Gab’s daughter, since he first met her years ago, but now it looks like they’re coming back to spend Christmas in Vegas, something that hasn’t happened before, and so he’s an excited, nervous mess because he wants to shoot his shot.

We’ve all been giving him the best advice we’ve got, and he’s thinking about having a chat with Gab—the poor bastard—and though we all agree that might be a good idea, he’ll have to choose his words carefully, so we definitely pity him too.

So yeah, focusing on anything and everything but Silas and how he’s doing and what awaits us when he comes back is best for now.