Page 57 of These Wicked Games (Wicked Sins #1)

twenty-seven

Oli

I hate the fucking Vipers.

Okay, no I don’t. Once upon a time I loved their team more than anything. I hate it now, though. Not this team giving their absolute all on the ice, but the team that held a monster. My memories feel tainted. How could anyone hurt their own child?

When Andre told me about the abuse he’d suffered it was like every single thing that tugged at my gut back then made sense.

The bruises, the way he acted around him, the way he tried his hardest to do anything else but go home at the end of practices and games.

Back then I just thought he wanted to hang out, and yeah, he did. There was just a bit more to it.

We’re in the third period, and we’re all just exhausted.

There’s a lot riding on this game. We’ve never lost to the Vipers since I’ve been captain and I’ll be dammed if we start now.

Sev wins the face off, shooting back to Atlas who takes the back, dodging players the best he can.

I skate to position, then jerk forward, tumbling to the ice.

“What the fuck, Rome!” I drag myself back up and go to punch his stupid face, but he’s already off and the ref didn’t see it.

We lost the advantage. Fuck. I’m surprised Rome is even here after his arrest.

The whistle blows.

Oh, I guess we are calling plays after all.

I wait for Rome to get his when I realize it’s an offside call. “Who?” Grey skates past me shaking his head.

“This feeling a little one-sided to you, Kuli?” he says, skating by me.

Yeah, but I don’t want to think about it. While we haven’t addressed anything publicly, I can see the signs in the crowd—the supportive ones, and the not so supportive ones. There’s also another issue.

We get into position for a face off, and I can’t help looking up quickly.

Tripp.

He’s on the Vipers’ bench, which I find odd, but they are his old team. It’s weird to me that he never coached them. He could do it easily. It’s almost like he wants his attention focused solely on his son.

The distraction costs me as I lose the face off. Fuck! Colton body checks Knox Morrow, gaining the puck, but hell breaks lose when Knox gets up, skating faster and knocking Colton onto the ice. They’re swarmed .

Colton gets up, throwing off his gloves and punching Knox so hard his helmet flies off.

The refs try to stop it. Some of the guys try to join but then fall back, grabbing an opponent.

One of the refs tries his best to break them up, but they’re too worked up.

I’m not sure why they hate each other so much, but if this is what Andre and I looked like . . .

Damn.

Finally the refs and some of the players pull them apart. Knox dabs his eyes as blood trickles down his face.

Colton comes by me. “You alright?”

“What’s a little fist fighting among enemies,” he laughs, dabbing his own eye.

Both Colton and Knox get sent to the sin bin for two minutes. We reset. The Vipers are doing their best to block any attempt at another goal. It’s two and two, and we just need one more to prevent going into OT. We gain the advantage. Grey and Ryker trade out for Cameron and Viktor.

With the advantage, I trade with Kyri and sit on the bench, watching the remainder of the play.

“I’m fucking winded.” Grey squirts water into his mouth, then wipes himself with a towel.

“Andre looks beat.” I look up, watching him.

His movements have grown sluggish over the last period.

We only have two minutes left. It’s both a lot of time and no time at all in hockey.

Atlas skates fast toward their goal, taking a shot.

“Fuck!” Their goalie blocks it. I look up.

Only a few minutes left in the game. “We need one.”

“Go in Grey, for Cameron.” Coach Lafleur taps him.

“I just sat down.”

“We need one goal, and we need our best defense to stop any other goals from them.”

Grey nods, getting up and waiting for Cameron to get the signal and switch out.

Viktor has the puck and he’s skating fast toward their goal, faking out then shooting to Grey who the opponents don’t see coming down the line.

He gets the puck, shooting fast, sailing it through the crease. “Yes, Greyson!”

He smiles, skating by us all clapping our hands. “Who’s tired now, old man?” he laughs, getting back into position. Just over a minute left on the clock.

They reset. The Vipers are desperate. Rome is back on the ice and I see his vicious determination from here. “Go, Oli.” I wait for Viktor to come back to the bench before getting out there and skating toward the puck.

Grey slaps the puck to me, and Martin Anderson from the Vipers tries to slap it away. I check it back, watching as Sev gains the advantage then shoots it to Grey.

Grey has the puck and is skating toward their goal, when Rome flies out of nowhere knocking into Grey with the force of a bulldozer. Grey flies into the air, tumbling with the force of the hit. Grey crumples into a heap on the ice.

I throw my stick, my stomach clenching with the agony roaring out of my friend.

“What the fuck.” I grab Rome, punching him.

His gloves drop and I can’t see shit. A blow to my cheek, and I’m punching, and punching.

He’s even bigger then I am, but it doesn’t stop me from landing several more punches.

Rome is a son of a bitch, but I think I see something close to remorse in his pale blue eyes.

“You’re going to fucking pay for that!” I growl, winding up to hit him again when I feel a hand on my shoulder.

“Oli, don’t,” Andre whispers. I turn to him and look at my friend. Atlas is at his side while medics assess the damage .

Rage weaves through every molecule of my blood. “You’re going to get yours.” I point to Rome. “You will, you evil son of a bitch.” Rome’s pale eyes lift to where my friend is screaming. His mouth drops open, but he shakes his head, skating off the ice.

Andre tugs me back as I lunge again. “Come on.” Taking several heavy breaths, I skate over to Grey who’s still howling.

“Stretcher.”

“What?”

Atlas is still crouched over Grey. “We need a stretcher. Everyone clear the area.” When everyone steps back, I see his knee, his leg at an odd angle. He must have hit the ice, knee first. The impact alone should have knocked him out.

Finally they get Grey on the stretcher, and I’m taken back all those months ago to Rocky being carried out against the same team. The Vipers are a notorious brawl-heavy team, but this is a sick coincidence. My eyes search the crowd for Rome and I can’t find him.

I’m going to kill him.

Grey’s normally sun-kissed skin is pallid with a green tinge to it. “I’m going with him.” I hear Atlas.

“Atlas, they need to take him. We still have a game—”

“I don’t give a fuck about the game, Oli!” His electric eyes brim with unshed tears. “I’m going with him!”

“Hey, hey!” I grab his face, forcing him to look at me.

“They need to get him out of here with no interference. He needs to get checked first. You’ll just be in the way.

After this is over we’ll go to the hospital.

I promise.” Atlas won’t meet my eyes, watching Grey being wheeled off the ice to an eruption of cheers.

I slap his cheek lightly to get him focused on me. “We’ll go as soon as we can. Okay?”

His eyes glaze before he nods and pulls out of my hold. This is a shitshow.

I skate over to our bench where Coach is talking everyone through a play.

None of us are feeling it. I’ve never seen Grey cry like that.

I feel something at my back before I turn to see Andre’s glove on my lower back.

He’s listening as we get our direction, and it hits me so fucking hard right now. I don’t know why.

We reset, and I take one look back at Andre, knowing what I have to do.

I tense in front of the microphones. My mind is still mostly on Grey and nausea clenches my stomach.

I’ve never heard him scream like that, and I know it’s going to haunt me.

Paired with the look on Atlas’s face, I just feel sick.

I need to do this, though. I want to do this.

We won. Though I don’t think either our team or the Vipers had wanted to continue the game.

Rome was ejected and suspended for ten games. It’s justice, but it feels weak.

As soon as I’ve showered and changed I’m going straight to the hospital. Atlas raced off as soon as we got off the ice, and I hope he’s with Grey now. While I’m shaken, it took being shaken to realize the truth .

I’m in love with Andre and I don’t want to let him go. I want the world to know it, and fuck anyone who has an issue with it. My job is secure. I’m an amazing player, and my real fans will stick by me. Seeing the signs tonight, the support in most of them filled my cup so full.

Shit happens randomly, and I don’t want to waste another second without letting everyone know who my heart belongs to. I don’t give a shit who it makes uncomfortable or how many fans I lose. If they hate me because of this, I don’t want them as fans anyway.

I’ve spent so long trying to fit what we have into a nice little box, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing else matters. Your life can change so quickly in this sport. I’m not wasting any more time. With that thought, I swallow, and wait for the chatter and clicks of cameras to stop.

I know Andre’s in the locker room now. I just hope he’s watching this.

Melanie steps up to the microphone, waiting for the whispered voices to stop.

“Oli is going to make a quick statement and answer three questions only. None of them related to Andre or the disgusting invasion of privacy our athletes have faced. And as of right now, we do not have an update on Greyson’s condition. ”

“Thank you,” I say to her. Here goes nothing.

“A couple of weeks ago my privacy was invaded. I just want to say that legal action is pending. While I am a public figure, I’m a private person, and I deserve as much privacy as any of you.

I was also outed before I was ready. No one should have to go through that, let alone publicly.

” No one should have to come out before they’re ready.

No one should have to be forced to define something before they even know themselves.

I don’t know what label I fit into, and I don’t even care.

I love Andre. Simple as that.

No one has ever made me feel even a sliver of the things I feel for him.

Gay, bi, pan . . . It doesn’t matter to me what label the world will give me.

I’m simply his. “It’s a reprehensible thing to do to anyone, no matter their celebrity status or tax bracket.

I’m very fortunate to have the support of my team and friends, but not everyone has that privilege.

Outing people has dangerous consequences.

While I will be fine, the next person who has their privacy ripped from them may not be. ”

“Oli, has your team found the ones responsible for breaking your privacy?”

“Yes.” I tamp down my annoyance at the interruption. “This is the only time I’ll make a statement like this, and going forward if you ask any of my teammates questions about their private lives and or sexuality, you will be barred from the Otters’ press rooms.”

I take a breath, ignoring the soft murmur that goes through the crowd.

“Yes, I am in a relationship with Andre Tavares. Yes, it started after he was traded, although we’ve known each other since we were kids.

We used to play on the Titans together. We used to be friends and now we’re more.

I will continue to be captain for the Otters and successfully lead us to the playoffs.

Who I’m in love with has nothing to do with the sport I play.

” That’s it. The dice can fall where they please.

I am done giving a shit what anyone else thinks. Melanie leans in. “Questions?”

“How do you feel about your team and their stance on the LBGTQ? Will you be holding more charity events to support the community now that you’re part of it. ”

What kind of question is that? “I’ve always been an ally to the community.

You don’t need to be part of it or know someone who’s part of it to be supportive and advocate for a minority group.

In fact, I welcome all of you to advocate.

You shouldn’t have to know someone or be part of a cause to support the cause.

” I need to calm down a bit. These reporters are already pissing me off.

“And no. The Otters as a whole have always prided ourselves on being an open team that support the LBGTQ+ community. I am very lucky to have a team of supportive people behind me.”

“Thank you, Oli.” She sits down and I point to a tall, lean man.

“Can you attribute your recent wins to your relationship? Are you more motivated to win?”

While it is a question about our relationship, I’m going to be honest. “Yes.” I will not be elaborating.

“Aren’t you worried about the media surrounding your relationship? You’re the captain and you’re sleeping with a teammate. Do you or Mr. Tavares plan on being traded?”

Why would they ask that? I bristle. “No.” I glare.

“My personal relationship is no one’s fucking business.

I’m an Otter. This shit is for life, or as long as Coach’s patience allows me.

” That earns me some laughs. It was my dream growing up to be a Viper.

They were my favorite team, and I needed that contract to take care of my mother.

The thing is, now, I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.

I wouldn’t change the way everything turned out even if I wish my mother were alive to see it.

Even though she’s not here, I know she’s proud of me.

“No more questions.” I stand as my name gets shouted over and over.

I rush back to the locker room, looking for one person.