Page 13

Chapter Twelve

Viktor

Knova’s frosty mood clings to her like a second skin. It starts as a chill and turns into a full freeze. I don’t understand what I did, but I feel the distance like frostbite—I’ve lost feeling, but the damage is still there. I don’t understand why she got so angry, and then I’m traveling, so there’s no good way to ask. I try texting her and get only brusque responses. All my calls go straight to voicemail. This isn’t entirely unusual for her, but it is a special brand of torture.

I finally stumble through the door at the end of my trip, hoping we’ll finally have a chance to talk, only to trip over a stack of packages.

“Knova?” I call through the front door. “Did you order something?” I nudge the packages inside with the toe of my shoe, since my hands are full of all my travel crap.

Knova emerges from the bedroom. I open my arms and pucker my lips for a kiss. She ignores me and bends down to pick up the nearest envelope. She upends it onto the couch, shaking out two t-shirts in the bright green and purple Venom colors. They aren’t branded merch, though. They’re both printed with QR codes, one in her size and one in mine.

“What are these?” I ask, as I foist my crap onto the other half of the couch. So she didn’t kiss me. No big deal. I’m just here. Vibing. Not worried about whether she’s done something in my absence to bring us closer to an annulment…

Why does it feels like getting benched after scoring a hat trick—like I’m being punished for a win.

“See for yourself.” She holds up one of the shirts so I can scan the QR code, which I do. An image pops up on my phone of the Venom logo over the words Slay All Day . “Aw,” I say. “I love it.”

“I thought you might.” She whips off her old shirt to reveal a black bra.

I drop my phone. “Yes! That’s more like it.”

…and pulls on the new one.

“Never mind.”

She snorts. “You’re ridiculous. Here.” She tosses me the other shirt. “It’s the same as mine.”

“Aw, are we gonna be that couple?” I pull my shirt off, drop it on top of my duffle, and don the new one. I grin like a fool. Maybe this is her way of saying sorry—of showing me we’re okay without having to say it. Maybe we’re finally good. It’s a perfect fit.

“Exactly. Twinsies.” Knova holds up a hand for a high-five. It’s not exactly the earth-shattering kiss I was hoping for, but it’s better than being iced out. I slap my palm against hers and grin.

“You know…” I pause, because now might not be the best time to bring this up, but if I don’t, it’s going to bother me. Once more unto the breach and damn the torpedoes, or however the saying goes. “You were a little cold while I was away. I thought you were still mad.”

I’ve spent the entire road trip replaying every moment between us like a coach reviewing footage of a loss. I need to know what I did wrong. And I can’t fix it if I don’t say something.

Knova pouts. She swoops forward to smoosh my face between her palms. “How could I stay mad at you? Come on, let’s go. Knight told me everyone’s meeting up at the Puck Drop.”

I swallow a sigh. I hadn’t mentioned the meetup on account of her radio silence. I was hoping we could stay in and talk about what happened. Things are still off. I think. Or maybe Knova’s just got me all turned around. After all, the Knova I know wouldn’t buy us matching t-shirts to wear to a team event. Is this her version of staking her claim? Maybe she’s just being weird because she doesn’t know how to express her… love?

That doesn’t sit right with me, but if she’s not going to explain herself, then I guess I’m not going to get a real answer tonight. Instead, I take a couple of minutes to freshen up in the bathroom—I smell like airplane, and I’m not a fan—before heading right back out the door in our matching shirts.

Knova doesn’t talk a lot on the way over; she mostly asks questions about my trip, the games, what we ate and did while we were away, that sort of thing. It still feels like there’s something in between us, something that’s wedged us apart in a way that’s hard to put my finger on.

We pass a few groups of people on the way. I catch a group of teenage girls raising their phones to scan our QR codes. When they do, the whole group breaks out in giggles. Odd.

A block later, we pass two guys around my age who do the same. One of the guys snorts and shows his phone to his friend.

“Brutal,” the other guy says.

“Hey, Knova?” I lower my voice and tip my head toward the guys. “Any idea what they’re talking about?”

“Nope,” she deadpans. “It’s a mystery.” When she smiles, she reminds me of a predator baring its teeth. It’s not a comforting sight.

“Right.” I reach for her hand, but she swerves away and stuffs them both into her pockets. It’s like reaching for a life preserver only to realize the rope’s been cut. I want to believe this is one of our games, that she’s teasing me, but the pit in my gut says otherwise.

Something is most definitely up. I should have scanned both QR codes before agreeing to this.

It’s probably just a prank, though. That’s not unusual for us. We like to play tricks on each other. It’s one way we express affection. Except, Knova hasn’t been all that affectionate lately.

Shit.

As soon as we reach the Puck Drop, I leave Knova with Vivian and Sofia while I pull Knight aside. “Hey, can you do me a favor?” I ask under my breath.

“Depends on the favor,” Knight says. “Making an agreement with you is like making a fae bargain. I’m not going to agree until I know the rules.”

“Very wise.” I turn around and gesture to my back where the QR code is. “Can you scan this and tell me what it says?”

He narrows his eyes. “Is this a trick? Why would you wear a shirt with a mystery QR code? Is this going to give my phone a virus or something?”

“No, your sister gave it to me. Can you just… please…” My desperation must be evident in my expression, because Knight takes pity on me and opens his phone screen. A moment later, he grimaces.

“What did you do?” he demands.

“I’ve been asking Knova that exact question all week. What does it say?”

Knight shows me his screen. Instead of the Venom logo, there’s an extremely unflattering picture of my face over the caption Ask Me About My Roster.

“Ouch,” I murmur. Not gonna lie: that one hurts. Worse than I want it to. I didn’t realize how much I’d been hoping—no, praying—that we were moving forward. Instead, she branded me with a punchline.

Knova’s made a lot of accusations over the years, some of which are well-earned, but this one doesn’t fit. I would never cheat on her. Shit, we’ve only been together a few weeks, and we’re not even together-together. We might be married, but I’m painfully aware that we’re not really a couple.

Knight tilts his head. “So… is Knova on your official roster now? Or is she just a really committed free agent?” His brow furrows.

I grab his arm. “We can’t talk about this here. Come with me.” I drag him off in the general direction of the bathrooms. We won’t get any privacy there, though, so I keep going until we stumble across a door near the staff area. I pull it open and peer inside. It’s a dry storage area. Perfect.

“In here,” I hiss, and step inside. Knight follows. I find a light switch near the mop station and flip on the single bulb, then press my back to the door so nobody can come in unannounced.

Knight holds up his phone to show me the offending image. “I have questions. Spill.”

I take a deep breath and slip against the door. “Knova and I accidentally got married after the season opener. We were drunk as hell, and Dante… pulled some Dante crap.” Let’s skip the part where Dante was planning to throw Knight and Sofia a surprise wedding. “And she wants to get divorced, but I don’t, because—”

Knight blinks. Once. Twice. Then blinks again, like he’s waiting for the punchline. “You what?” His voice is quiet. Too quiet. “Tell me you’re joking. Please tell me I’m not hearing that my best friend married my twin sister in secret and didn’t breathe a word of it for how many days?”

I shift on my feet. “Technically... since the party at the Mona Lisa where we all drank far too much tequila.”

Knight scrubs both hands over his face. “Oh, so weeks. Cool. Normal. Nothing says ‘trust’ like hiding a literal marriage.”

“We didn’t mean to get married. It just happened.”

“Like falling into a manhole.”

“Exactly!”

He gives me a look that could burn through tempered glass.

“And she wants to get an annulment, but I don’t, because—”

“You’ve been in love with her forever.” Knight squints at me. “You’re sure the secret wedding wasn’t your idea?”

“You think I tricked Knova into marrying me?” I demand.

Knight shrugs. “I don’t know. You have dumb ideas all the time. It’s possible.”

I am forced to agree that it is possible, given my track record. “Not this time. I wouldn’t mess around with Knova’s feelings like that. Pinky swear.” I hold up my finger.

Knight looks at my hand, but instead of raising his own pinky, he glances back at his phone. “That doesn’t explain why she’d brand you with a scarlet letter.”

I almost say, Maybe I deserve it. But the truth is, I’ve done everything but screw up—at least on purpose. And still, I’m the villain in her narrative.

I glance down at my lime-and-purple shirt. “It’s not scarlet. Get your eyes checked.”

“Read a book,” he counters. “For fuck’s sake, dude. No wonder you flunked eleventh-grade English.”

“I didn’t flunk…”

The door behind me lurches, and I lean my full weight against it.

“We need a moment!” I call out.

From the other side, a woman’s voice says, “Who’s in there?”

“VIPs,” I shout back. Knight snorts. I flip him the bird.

The waitress, or that’s who I assume she is, sighs. “Listen, you can talk, but no fucking on the dry goods. Also, we’re low on napkins.”

I point to the wall of napkins behind Knight, who hands me one of the giant industrial packages. I open the door and pass it through.

“Thanks,” says the waitress. She glances at me, then at Knight. Satisfied that we’re both still fully clothed, I guess, she takes her paper products and departs.

I sigh and lean back against the door. “Knova’s been mad at me since last Saturday. I think that’s why she had this shirt made.”

“What happened Saturday?”

“I left for a few hours. When I returned, she was mad.”

Knight looks utterly baffled. “What are you leaving out? What did you do Friday night?”

I smirk at that one. “Your sister.”

He pretends to gag. Or maybe he really does gag. He does look a little paler than usual all of a sudden. “I don’t suppose you could’ve phrased that any other way. Fuck. And what did you do Saturday?”

“I… had a standing appointment.” I turn my gaze toward my shoes.

“Which was?” Knight prompts.

“Doesn’t matter. It’s personal.”

“Did you at least tell her where you were?”

I shake my head slowly. “I’ve never told anyone.”

Knight’s lip curls back from his canines. He stuffs his phone into his pocket. “No wonder she’s mad.”

“It’s nothing bad!” I insist. “It’s just, you know, my secret.”

Knight crosses his arms. “Secret wife, secret life. You understand that if you hurt my sister, I’m legally obligated to kick your ass, right?”

I size him up. “You could try.”

“No, really. If you cheat on my sister, I’m allowed to treat you like a human punching bag, and you’re obligated to take it without fighting back.”

I scoff. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“If it meant Knova got hurt, no, I actually wouldn’t.” Knight runs one hand through his hair. “She’s always been the one who stood up for me. She’s the family badass. But after what she’s been through, I get why she’s careful about her heart.”

“What she’s been through?” I repeat, intrigued.

Knight wrinkles his nose and singsongs, “It’s her secret.”

He’s got me there. I’m not sure what he’s talking about, but if Knova has secrets, I want to earn her trust, not squeeze them out of her brother. I rub my forehead and weigh my options.

It’s not really a contest. I’d do anything for Knova. Every cell in my body is screaming to fix this. I’d light my whole ego on fire if it would make her believe I’m in this. That I’m in her. That I’m not walking away.

“It’s the Special Olympics,” I blurt.

Knight raises an eyebrow and cocks his head like a Pomeranian that just heard the mail truck pull up. “Come again?”

“Remember the end of eighth grade, the night of our graduation dance?”

“How could I forget?” Knight’s shoulders slump, and he reaches up to rub the back of his neck. “Have I ever apologized for that, by the way?”

“Only about a million times. Anyway, you remember that the principal called my parents, and they went through my room, and… you know the rest. Mom and Dad thought I had a problem, so they grounded me for most of the summer and signed me up for this Special Olympics summer camp. They wanted me too busy to get into trouble. Get me some ‘life perspective.’ Back then, I mostly helped with the little kids as a counselor, but I kept going back. It was intense, but I loved it. Once I started college, I worked over the summers but still volunteer as a coach.”

Knight’s head, already at an angle, keeps listing farther and farther to one side as I talk. “Let me get this straight. Your deep dark secret, the one you’re blowing up your life over, is that you volunteer for the Special Olympics?”

I nod. “Yes.”

“For fuck’s sake.” He clasps his hands in front of his face and closes his eyes, like he’s praying for the serenity to accept the things he cannot change. Namely, me. “You do realize you’re the biggest green flag pretending to be a red flag, right?”

“I have a rep to protect!” I don’t know if Knova’s mentioned the awful night when she flew with LifeSource yet, but if she hasn’t divulged that particular trauma yet, I’m not going to go blabbing it around.

“Viktor, you can get a rise out of my sister like nobody else, but that’s not the way to go about this if you want to stay married. Your need to protect your ‘rep’ is going to wreck your relationship.”

“But you realize how stupid it sounds now? She thinks I was out fucking around. Now I’m just going to tell her, ‘Babe, no, I’m not a ho, I’m a hero.’”

Knight groans and rubs his forehead. “Don’t say that. It makes you sound like a douche.”

“That’s what I’m saying!” I realize how loud I’ve gotten, so I lower my voice a notch to ask, “What should I do?”

“You literally have everything you’ve ever wanted. Don’t fuck it up. And for the love of God, fight for it.” He lets out a long-suffering sigh. “But since you’re struggling to do that, I’ll help. After all, you were instrumental in helping me get together with Sofia. I owe you one.”

I nod once. Then again. It’s not just about not losing her. It’s about proving I deserve her. For once in my life, I want to be someone worth staying for.

I consider his offer. “You’re not going to run me over with a bike, are you?”

“Not until things get desperate. Though I’m not ruling it out. Now, come on, let’s get back out there. We don’t want that waitress to think we’ve broken the cardinal rule of the dry storage closet.”