Page 32 of The Sweet Spot (Kodiaks Hockey #3)

Chapter Thirty-Two

Brandon

I sat her on the bed and got ready to tell her everything about growing up in the Warde house. She looked terrified, as if I were about to blow up at her, too, so I needed to put her at ease immediately.

“I’m sorry about today. You shouldn’t have had to sit through that, but I’ve had enough of them. They pushed me too far. You have no idea what it was like in that house,” I said.

The fear from her face slipped away, and she reached out to touch my hand. “You know you can talk to me. You don’t have to keep it all to yourself. It will only eat you up inside.”

I nodded and let out a deep exhale. “I was the oldest, so I endured the most,” I began. “My dad wanted to be a hockey player when he was young. Made it to Juniors, never got drafted, and that was that. He went to school, got an education degree—poor fucking kids who had to be taught by him—met my mom at the same school, and got married. They both probably should have stayed single.”

I massaged my temples as all the shitty memories as a kid flooded back. I’d compartmentalized them, shut them away, telling myself to never look back, but today had brought every damn one back.

“He was an asshole from the moment I have memories of him. The moment I could walk, he had skates on me. He drilled discipline in me, that I had to be the best at everything I did. I don’t remember having much joy or doing fun things. It was all about being a good student, an obedient child, and the best hockey player. He had me in every elite camp; he hired skating coaches, you name it. I had no time for being a kid. The few good times I had were at school, where he couldn’t get to me. But because he’d conditioned me to be the best, people didn’t like me much, especially my teammates. I was always lucky if more than one or two talked to me.”

I got up and paced the room because I had too much pent-up energy. If someone put me on a treadmill, I could probably run a marathon.

“Do you know why I had to be the best on the ice? Because if I came home and didn’t put in one hundred percent, there was a good chance he’d beat the shit out of me. And what did my mom do about it? Nothing. No one asked about the bruises because we were all banged up from the game. The best day of my life was being drafted by Sudbury for Juniors. I was fucking free.

“My first year after Juniors, I came home for the summer. My little brother was seven at the time, and my father was starting to put him through the same shit. By then, I was just as big as my dad and in a lot better shape than him. He was giving Bailey a hard time, pushing him around, and I exploded. There was no way he was going to subject my brother to the same treatment. I was like a person possessed. I hit him until he couldn’t get up. My little sister was crying, my mother was screaming for me to stop, and Bailey just stared at me like I was some god sent from the heavens. I told my father that if he laid a hand on any one of us ever again, I’d kill him. I think we all knew I meant it. I scared even myself that day. I know I’m probably scaring you, but I’ve never laid a hand on anyone since. I’m not going to hurt you ever. I refuse to let the cycle continue.”

“That day, you asked me whether someone had hurt me. You were speaking from experience.”

“Yes,” I said, staring into her eyes and seeing all the love there. Her big brown eyes watched me, and I couldn’t see any judgment. She wasn’t horrified. She did get up and cup my face with her hands.

“You are not the bad guy. You did nothing wrong. You saved your siblings. You’re the hero. You are good, and I love you,” she said, placing her hand over my heart.

The last time I’d shed a tear was when I was probably five years old. Dad beat that out of me too. But here I was, feeling the foreign sting of tears.

“But am I?” I said in a whisper.

“You are the best man I’ve ever met.”

The tears slipped down my cheeks, and she wiped them away. I hugged her and never wanted to let her go. She was the exact opposite of everything I had ever known.

“Can I make a suggestion?”

“Yes,” I said, still not letting her go.

“Don’t keep this bottled up. Talk to someone other than me. A professional.”

“I have,” I said. “I’m still a work in progress, but my sister and I agreed a few years ago that we needed to deal with this. I’d like to think I handled today better than I would have a few years ago.”

“Your dad did leave in one piece.”

She stared into my eyes, so much love staring back at me.

“I have one more suggestion,” she said. “Let’s make our own Christmas memories tonight, okay? Just me and you. Let’s start all over with a nice dinner by candlelight, finish it off with dessert, open our presents, then watch some Christmas movies. Only funny ones, like Elf .”

“Okay,” I said, finally letting her go.

“Give me ten minutes to set the scene.”

I kissed her one more time before she left. She smiled at me and hurried off. I sat on the bed again, taking ten minutes to do some breathing exercises the trainers had taught us. I then glanced over at my phone. I’d muted it the moment my parents had left because I knew the barrage of calls and texts would start, demanding an apology. I grabbed it now to shut it off, but then I saw the text from Tangi.

Please come to dinner tomorrow. I know Wolseley would like that. And I think you’re not coming because of me, and she doesn’t deserve to be punished. I shouldn’t have said the things I did. They were wrong and terrible, and I’m so sorry about it. I want us all to be good with each other because I know you’re a great guy, and she’s an amazing woman. You are a perfect pair.

I stared at that message for a long time. I wasn’t sure if I was up to a dinner with people, and that had nothing to do with Tangi. But she had apologized, and right now, I wanted to do anything to make Wolseley happy.

Let’s start over, okay? What time is dinner?

I put mushroom gravy all over my eggs in the morning. And I piled the leftover mashed potatoes next to that. After all that happened the night before, Wolseley and I had made the best of it, and we had a pretty good Christmas Eve, stuffing ourselves with dinner and dessert. We watched movies, had sex like it was a matter of life and death—and every time I thought about it, my dick twitched in anticipation—and forgot all about my parents.

“I thought I’d come to dinner tonight?” I said as Wolseley made French toast for the both of us. As if I hadn’t already had enough carbs on my plate, but who would say no to French toast? She was wearing the diamond encrusted W pendant I’d gotten her for Christmas. I’d assured her the diamonds were all ethically sourced.

Her face lit up like the Christmas tree she’d put up a few days ago. The one that had more lights than ornaments.

“Woot,” she said, clapping her hands and placing a kiss on my cheek. “We are going to have so much fun.”

Not sure about the fun part, but maybe I’d be surprised.

After breakfast, I helped her clean up, and we both decided it was time for a nap. All the breakfast carbs had made me sleepy. We settled onto the bed, and I reached for my phone. I was finally in the right state of mind to deal with whatever was there, except for my parents. I saw over fifty text messages. I handed my phone to Wolseley.

“Do me a favor and delete all the messages from my parents.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Are you sure? What if something important is there?”

“My brother or sister will tell me.”

“All right,” she said reluctantly.

She took my phone, deleted the texts, and handed it back. I had thirty-nine less text messages to read. I could only imagine all the vitriol in them. Oh well, I’d never know now. I scrolled through what was left. A few from Tangi with a time for dinner and thanking me for coming. A couple from a few friends back home that I kept in touch with, and the rest were from Bailey and Brooke.

What the hell did you say to mom and dad? They are pissed and on their way here two days early.

I looked at Bailey’s text. Poor kid was going to have to deal with the fallout. I felt a need to warn him.

First, Merry Christmas. As for mom and dad, I’m done with them. Don’t take their shit when they get there. Fight back. If they give you trouble, ask your billet family to throw them out.

HOLY SHIT. You need to tell me what happened.

I’ll call you later.

Next up were a few texts from Brooke.

Merry Christmas, big brother. I love you! Thank you for ruining mom and dad’s Xmas.

I often wondered if Brooke loathed them more than I did. While she didn’t endure as much of the physical abuse, the mental abuse they put her through was horrible. She was never pretty enough, thin enough, or smart enough. What they didn’t see was that Brooke was a gorgeous and brilliant woman who hated them.

Merry Christmas. Love you too! Can’t wait for you to meet Wolseley.

Neither can I !

She was planning a trip at the end of January for a work conference. A few days to hang out and meet Wolseley. She also wanted tickets to a Kodiaks game. She loved sports as much as I did.

I set down my phone, pulled Wolseley close, and let out a contented breath before drifting off to sleep.

Tangi tasked Wolseley with dessert, so she spent most of the afternoon making shortbread cookies, chocolate crinkle cookies, my favorite, and gingerbread men and women. She put me to work, mixing and sifting, but took care of all the actual cookie construction. We both felt revived after our naps, and even a few cookie samples didn’t make me sleepy. I was looking forward to a normal dinner, with normal people, even if Ethan was there.

Tangi and Ethan’s place was within walking distance to the beach in a gorgeous part of the city I hadn’t visited much. According to Wolseley, Tangi and Ethan had done a lot of work updating the house, and it looked great and in a nice neighborhood. The perfect place to start a family.

After all the merry Christmases were said, Ethan begrudgingly offered me a beer. I accepted and hung out with the guys while the ladies chatted. At first, I felt like an outsider in this tight-knit group. Jeremy, Ryan, and Ethan had been friends for years, and I had always been the guy they couldn’t stand, but things were changing. I was finally being accepted.

“Did you hear what’s going on in Edmonton? Krueger told me that there’s a whole bunch of infighting going on, especially after that losing streak started. Foxgrove and Harvey were throwing fists in practice,” Jeremy said. He and Krueger had played Juniors together, and I guess they were still friends .

“That team is a mess,” Ryan said. “When they hired Davis, we all knew shit was going to fly.”

Davis had a checkered coaching history. He liked to push guys to the limit, kind of like my dad.

“How long before Demchuk asks for a trade?”

“He already has,” I said.

Three pairs of eyes turned to face me.

“How do you know?” Jeremy asked.

“My little brother plays Junior in Lethbridge with Demchuk’s little brother.”

“There you have it,” Ryan said.

Slowly, the guys were letting me in, and before I knew it, we were laughing, joking, and gossiping about other teams. When was the last time Ethan and I shared a laugh? Never.

Tangi served a feast for dinner. Not nearly as good as Wolseley’s food, but I wasn’t about to insult the chef. Afterward, I helped with the dishes, mostly because it settled me and was something I could do on my feet. I was finishing up when Tangi cornered me. Wolseley was putting out dessert, and everyone had gathered around to grab some treats.

“I meant what I said in the text,” she said quietly so no one would overhear. “You two are good for each other, and I’m a terrible person.”

“You’re not,” I said with a smile.

“I think I am. And I want you to know that I’ve never seen either of you happier. I want the best for both of you.”

“Thanks, Tangi. And like I said, I’m moving on and forgetting all about it.”

“Good. Fresh starts are good.”

I was finally feeling a part of something, and that felt good too.