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alex

“I’m so fucking pissed,” Dimitri shouted, slamming his locker, almost breaking it on the hinges.

Not only had we lost another game, which made this the third game in a row of losses, but Coach informed us that our hotel reservations were all messed up.

I was exhausted, run ragged, and pissed that we were stuck in a run-down hotel tonight.

My mind wasn’t in the game, and I was stressed about Anastasia’s situation.

I had no idea when she planned on telling Dimitri she was leaving.

She’d been telling him she was running errands or going shopping, but instead, she was sneaking off to practice a few nights a week.

It was the only way she could get back on the ice without him finding out.

We hadn’t seen each other much lately, but I encouraged her to use the time when he was out of the house to start skating again, to reclaim a piece of herself before she confronted him.

Her old coach’s mentor, who happened to live nearby, offered her a teaching job at the rink for when she eventually left Dimitri.

She could schedule lessons around Damien’s sleep schedule, and the mentor even suggested that some of the girls waiting for their lessons could watch the baby while she taught.

We also found an apartment complex close by that fit within her budget, making sure she’d have a place to go once she was ready to make her move.

She had no idea I planned on paying her down payment and being there with her every step of the way. I understood why she wanted to do it alone, but watching Dimitri rage over a lost game, I couldn’t imagine his reaction when she told him she wanted to leave him.

“My fucking wife is here and now...” Dimitri was talking loudly to the other players, but I tuned him out.

My jealousy was getting the best of me but knowing that tonight, or sometime soon, Anastasia was going to tell him she was leaving him, I was fucking on edge from all of it.

“He’s got too much adrenaline.” One of the right wingers came over to me as I changed.

“Yeah.” I agreed, and that’s when I decided to tell the hotel staff I wanted to stay in a room next to them. I needed to somehow find a way to keep her safe tonight if she chose to tell him because he was so worked up.

I needed to get to the hotel immediately.

The dingy hotel hallway was dimly lit, the flickering overhead lights casting uneven shadows on the threadbare carpet that was frayed and stained in multiple places.

The wallpaper peeled at the edges, and a faint, musty smell lingered in the air.

It was completely neglected and disgusting, and so loud that hearing myself think was nearly impossible.

This was not a hotel you’d stop at if you wanted to relax.

The door numbers were crooked and some barely hanging on, adding to the overall sense of disrepair.

I saw her as we walked into our rooms, our gazes locking briefly. She knew I was next door. That thought brought relief, and I was grateful that the run-down hotel we were stuck in tonight didn’t ask questions when I told them I needed to be next to Dimitri.

“You gotta wear earplugs tonight, Popov,” Dimitri said with a smirk from the next door.

I didn’t smile, didn’t budge, just threw my bag over my shoulder and walked through my door.

Fuck off. That’s what I wished I had said, but I didn’t.

I turned on the shower and tried so desperately to hear nothing and everything next door. But as night fell, the hallways were quiet and I was walking on eggshells for something to happen, but nothing ever did.

I decided it was best if I tried to shut my eyes since lying in bed and staring at the ceiling wasn’t helping nor was the stench of the hotel.

Shouting echoed from down the hallway and even from the parking lot.

This hotel wasn’t quiet and restful, but it was one night and we were getting on a plane tomorrow.

As my eyes fell heavy with sleep, moaning came from... the hallway? No. It felt too close to my room. It must be coming from outside. I got up from the bed, annoyed at the thin walls, and walked around to try and locate the source of the noises.

It took me a moment to register that the groans increasing in volume were coming from the wall we shared. I pressed my ear to the paper-thin barrier, straining to make sure I wasn’t imagining it. But there it was—loud, unmistakable moaning noises from their room.

No fucking way. My heart dropped, a sickening twist of betrayal and sadness churning in my stomach.

This wasn’t it. This couldn’t be it. The image of them together, intimate and entwined, was a brutal slap in the face, shattering any hope I had clung to.

The overwhelming sense of loss and hopelessness consumed me, leaving me standing there, paralyzed with grief and disbelief.

The despair hit me like a freight train, a crushing weight settling in my chest. She was supposed to be breaking up with him. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. The realization that the sounds were coming from her room sent a cold chill down my spine.

She was just a friend. I had to remind myself. The feeling in my stomach wasn’t because she was having sex with her husband. At least, that’s what I told myself. The feeling arose not because of jealousy over their intimacy but because she wasn’t doing what she said she would.

He wasn’t good to her . . . She needed . . .

Fuck. Nothing was coming out as a complete sentence. I needed to close my eyes and shut this out. If I fell asleep, I would wake up, and she’d tell me she was alone in the room. He went out and was with girls, and maybe she was touching herself... Ugh.

I groaned and grabbed a pillow, shoving it over my ears, but as the clock in the corner ticked, the noises got more frantic. It wasn’t until I heard the soft echoes of her voice that I gave up on trying to sleep.

“Please,” she begged.

This wasn’t a sex thing. I shot out of bed and pressed my ear to the wall again.

There was that same voice again. It was quiet, but it kept repeating the same phrase.

“Please. Please. Someone. Please save me.”

I didn’t even bother throwing on sweats before I ran out of my hotel room in my underwear.

I knocked on the door a few times, and when no one answered, I pounded the wood in a desperate attempt to figure out what was happening.

He was in there with her. Did she tell him?

“Please. Help.” The cries were suddenly louder, followed by a huge crash.

I needed to save my friend. I needed to....fuck.

“I’m right here,” I shouted as I continued to pound on the door, grabbing the phone I remembered to bring and dialing 9-1-1.

Dirks opened the door on the other side of me and looked me dead in the eye. We both knew something was happening, but the piece of shit doors were too hard for me to break down.

“I-I’m calling the police,” I said frantically, unable to feel the air in my lungs.

Dirks nodded as he came over to the door, pounding on it and screaming for Dimitri to open up.

I stepped back, and my hands were shaking as my phone rang twice before the operator picked up.

“What’s your emergency?”

I rattled off the name of the hotel and told her that someone in the room was hurt and shouting for help.

At this point, I was screaming in the hallway. Finally, I heard footsteps coming toward the front door from the other side as Dirks woke the other guys up on the floor in a desperate attempt to try and push the door open.

Still on the phone with the operator, I ran into my room and grabbed a lamp, yanking it from where it was plugged into the wall.

I sprinted back into the hallway with the lamp in one hand and the phone pressed to my ear with the other.

“Good idea,” Dirks shouted and went to his room to do the same.

Almost half the team was wide awake, pounding on the door. With everyone’s strength, we’d get the door open. I would fucking get inside that room, one way or another.

“He was so pissed,” one of our teammates muttered.

We all saw the way he was raging after the game.

Fuck, I had failed her. There was no way he’d just storm out when she told him she was leaving. I fucking knew it, and I let this happen.

“Move,” I shouted, centering myself on the door.

I pounded even harder, my fists aching from the effort. “Anastasia! Open the door!” I shouted, my voice breaking with fear.

No response. Only muffled sounds of distress.

I couldn’t wait any longer. I took a deep breath and swung at the doorknob, hoping to break it open, but I barely made a dent.

“Anastasia, hang on!” I yelled, my heart racing.

Putting all my strength into it, I swung again. A few of the guys flung their bodies against the door, urging the knob to break. On the third swing, the doorknob finally gave way.

As soon as the door opened, my mouth hung agape.

With my heart in my throat, I walked inside the dimly lit room, darting my eyes in every direction. On the other side of the room, her feet stuck out past the foot of the bed on the floor. The rest of her body was blocked from view, hidden between the bed and the wall. I needed to see her.

The sound of the guys coming in behind me was faint, but growing closer.

Someone screamed, “This was her fucking fault.”

But nothing else mattered. Time seemed to somehow slow and speed up as I made my way toward her.

“Help,” she whimpered.

Her voice was fragile and delicate, but at least she was speaking so she was okay.

I dropped to my knees the moment I got to her, sprawled on the floor. Blood covered her face. Her nose was in a different direction than it should have been. Her eyes were so purple and swollen shut that I knew she couldn’t see.

I tried... really fucking tried not to break down as I looked her over. A cut sliced across her lip. Her arms seemed okay, but her legs... Her left leg was bent in an unnatural direction. Both kneecaps were swollen and bruised.

“Motherfucker,” I whispered, not wanting to scare her.