Page 58 of These Wicked Games (Wicked Sins #1)

twenty-eight

Andre

“ W ho I’m in love with has nothing to do with the sport I play.”

I showered fast, not wanting to miss Oli’s press conference, and now I’m watching on the monitor.

I didn’t know what it was about. I can't believe he just said all that. To the public. Heat blooms in my chest. While I want to sink into the happiness I feel, I can't. We don’t have any updates on Grey. I look over at Atlas, sitting next to me on the bench, and he looks like he got the soul sucked right out of him. “Hey.” I slip my hand into his. He blinks out of his trance to look down at our hands with a smile. “He’s going to be okay.”

“I’ve never heard someone scream like that,” he rasps out. “I need to go see him. ”

I want to tell him it’ll be alright, but I don’t know. I’ve played with Rome for years and no one likes that prick, even on the Vipers. He takes cheap shots. He constantly stays in the media for all the wrong reasons. On top of that, he’s just a fucking dick. “Do you speak Russian?”

Atlas’s brows pinch and he shakes his head. “I’m American. I was born in Jersey, actually. I think my mom’s side was Italian but I don’t really know.” He smiles sadly. “Why?”

“Oli keeps calling me something and I want to know what it is.”

“Google, man.” He takes his phone out. “What is it?”

“Uh, zayka . I don’t know how to spell it.”

Atlas holds his phone out. “Hey Google, what does zayka mean in Russian?”

“Zayka in Russian is a term of endearment, meaning ‘little bunny’ or ‘bunny.’ It's a cute way to address loved ones, children, or close friends, similar to saying ‘sweetheart’ or ‘darling’ in English,” the robotic voice tells me.

That fucking asshole.

Atlas is laughing now, genuinely. “He’s been basically calling you a puck bunny in Russian.” He laughs harder. “Oh thank you, I needed that.”

“What a fucking dick.”

Atlas sobers, chuckling softly. “I know you’ve known him longer than I have, but I’ve known this version of Kuli longer than you.

He’s the most loyal guy you’ll ever meet.

I feel bad sometimes because there are things about me he doesn’t know.

I know he knows there’s things I’ve held back from him, but he doesn’t pressure me to share.

Oli’s the guy who takes on everyone’s burdens. I don’t want to add to that. ”

“What do you mean?”

Atlas swallows. “Nothing, just bullshit. Past bullshit. I didn’t have the most healthy upbringing.

Oli, though, he likes to take everyone’s pain.

He’s the person you call when you’re having a crisis.

” Atlas stands up, now in his street clothes.

“It’s nice that he has someone he can lean on.

I’m really happy for you both.” He squeezes my shoulder.

“I’m going to the hospital. Tell Oli I’ll be there whenever he’s ready.

No rush. I doubt they’ve really gotten Grey looked at yet. ”

I watch him go, waiting on the bench. I need to dress; I’m still sitting in my towel. Most everyone else has gone home by now, and some of the guys wanted to go to the hospital, but Atlas is right. They probably don’t know anything yet.

After a moment Oli walks in. “You fucking dick!”

He freezes, looking around. “Um . . .”

“A bunny. A fucking bunny!” A slow grin spreads along his lips. “I’m not your puck bunny!” He walks into me with a laugh. “I’m not!”

He cups my face, not even checking to see if we’re alone before kissing my lips. “My good little zayka .”

“I hate you.”

“Did you watch the press conference?”

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

“No, why? Did I miss something?”

“You’re the asshole. I’m going to shower. Get dressed. I want to go to the hospital. Did Atlas go?”

“Yeah, he just left.” Oli nods, leaning in to kiss me one last time.

“He’s going to meet us there.” I think back to what Atlas said, and I know he’s probably beating himself up about this.

Injuries happen, but something like that is still sickening to watch.

Oli grabs his clothes, walking toward the showers.

I dress ready for the long night ahead of me, and I think about Atlas rooming with Grey. I’d invite him to stay with us tonight, but I know it’s going to take everything in both Oli and me to pry Atlas away from the hospital.

Boots sound behind me, and I feel a chill down my spine.

Without even looking, I know he’s found me.

“You know, for a while I thought you knew what you were doing. You were winning games. Not embarrassing me for a change. Then you get caught kissing a man.” I swallow, turning to see Tripp.

Fear slaps me in the face, but it ebbs a moment later. “Not even just a man, but that man.”

Fuck him. Fuck him! I don’t have to be afraid of him.

“Fuck off. Go slink back to whatever hole you crawled out of. I’m done.

You do not control me. You have no power over me.

” He steps up to me, and the tiny child I had been shrinks a bit in my mind.

I don’t have to live with this anymore. I’m stronger, faster, and so much better than he’ll ever be.

“One of these days, you’re going to understand everything I—”

“You abused me, Tripp. You abused your only fucking child. Not because you wanted me to be better, but because you knew I’d be better than you. You’re a fucking disgrace. When the whole world finds out about you, your legacy will go up in flames.”

“I made you stronger. Faster. I—”

“You beat me! You fucking beat me! Then you fucked over my best friend, and I don’t know why?”

“What? ”

“The cups, Tripp. I know you switched the label on Oli’s cup with mine all those years ago. But I don’t know why. You nearly derailed his career. The Vipers were—”

“They weren’t going to sign him.” A sick smile spreads on his lips. “I told him that, but it wasn’t true.”

I’m confused. “Why? That doesn’t even make sense.” I think back to the scouts at the game, but they never came over to talk to us. Which isn’t unusual. Tripp had told us after that game they were there for Oli.

Tripp looks around, his eyes hazy. He’s definitely been drinking.

“You two were so close. I saw it then, the way you looked at him. It was disgusting. He was a distraction, and he needed to go!” he hisses.

“I made him believe the scouts were watching, so that when I switched the labels on your cups he’d be even more pissed off.

That way he wouldn’t ever talk to you again.

You didn’t need the distraction! He was perverting your brain. Looks like he still is.”

“I’m gay, Tripp!”

“Shut the fuck up, you don’t know what—”

“I am. I didn’t stop liking men just because you ruined his career.

I didn’t stop. Great fucking job, because here we are back again, only this time .

. .” I step to him. “I love him. I am in love with Oli and there isn’t anything you can do about it.

” I know he’s a sick fuck, but I can’t believe he did that. “You treated him like a son.”

His eyes go cold. “I have no son.”

I’m not sure why the words hit like they do. I’ve never really considered him my father. I guess I deluded myself all these years into thinking that his sick training and mind games meant he loved me. Tripp doesn’t love anyone. “Get the fuck out of here.” I turn my back, searching for my hoodie .

Pain explodes across my face. I’m shoved straight into my locker cubby and I stumble, dazed. What the hell. I turn on him, and I feel warmth slick down my eye. I’m done. Fucking done. I punch him. He’s not expecting it, and neither am I.

I punch again, and again, all the fury I’ve contained for years exploding inside me.

Tripp pushes me back. “You’re pathetic.” A flash of silver catches my vision before he slashes my arm.

Blood beads to the surface. I’m distracted.

He catches me off guard with a punch. I feel every ring on his knuckles.

I go to fight back, but instead, Tripp gets jerked backwards and slammed up against the wall.

Oli.

“Touch him again and I’ll snap your fucking neck.” He holds him by the throat, pinning him to the wall. Tripp’s turning purple.

“You’re both disgusting!” he spits.

“Beating your child and disguising it as practice is disgusting.”

“He’s not my child! He’s a liability. A fucking disgrace!” Oli squeezes harder, cutting off his choked words. Blood smears across his teeth as he laughs. Oli cuts it off, squeezing harder. His eyes bulge, fingers desperately grabbing at the iron grip Oli has around his throat.

“Oli, he did it. He switched the labels.” I don’t tell him about the Vipers. Later. “He wanted you to get kicked off, so we wouldn’t be around each other.” Oli squints, looking at me then back to Tripp.

“You both . . . the perverted way you looked at each other. You were a poison. You had to go.”

“You ruined my chance for that?” Oli shakes his head.

“You never had a chance.” Tripp smiles wide, his face purple. “They were never there for you.” Oli blinks at him a moment, before cocking his fist back and punching him. I hear the crunch of his nose as Tripp screams, and Oli let’s him go, watching him crumple to the floor.

“Oli—”

Tripp yells. “I’m going to press charges. You’ll never play again.”

“Or . . .” We both startle, hearing Ryker come into the locker room with his phone. “I filmed the entire thing, and instead you're going to prison you dick.” Ryker beams. “Smile.”

“And how long have you known about the abuse?” Oli’s fingers keep tapping, and while my father got arrested I’m sure my man would be just as happy putting him six feet in the dirt.

I reach out, grabbing his hand and squeezing it.

Oli didn’t say much to me on the ride over from the arena.

So much happened tonight and I know his mind is on Grey as well.

There’s still no news. Oli texted Atlas, telling him about what happened, and said we’d be over once we’re done answering questions.