Chapter Thirty-Five

The season had begun without the chaos Dominik had expected. A week in and he was feeling good about how the team was gelling on the ice. The rookies had found their rhythm, things were calm in the locker room, and even the Trouble Triplets had settled down.

Luke’s wedding being only a few weeks away might have something to do with that. He shook his head as he overheard Luke and Tyler arguing about flowers, while Scott corrected their pronunciations and pointed out it didn’t matter what kind they were, so long as they were black.

“Black and orange.” Luke dropped back into his stall dramatically. “Why did I agree to this again?”

“Because you love her. And she’s having your babies. And a Halloween wedding is fucking cool.” Tyler ticked off the reasons on his fingers, nudging Luke’s skate with his own. “Besides, you’re getting married in a freakin’ castle dressed up as a gangster. What the hell do you have to complain about?”

Still slumped over, Luke dropped an arm over his face. “My best friends refuse to wear the costumes I got for them.”

“Dude, you sent me a corset. And high heels.”

“I’m giving you the honor of being Doctor Frank-N-Furter!”

“I have no idea who that is.” Tyler glanced over at Scott, who’d snorted. “What are you laughing at. You got a pair of tight gold shorts. You said no before I did.”

Scott’s lip slanted. “Luke damn well knew I would, but I’m flattered that he chose me as Rocky.”

Tyler threw his hands up in the air. “Who the hell are these people?”

Luke groaned. “It’s like I don’t even know you. Fine. Abandon me in my time of need.”

Dominik shook his head and chuckled, crossing the room and grabbing Luke’s wrist to pull him to his feet. “All right, bridezilla, that’s enough. Get your head in the game and I’ll help you with costume ideas after.”

Grumbling, Luke finished getting ready, dropping the wedding talk until they were on their way to the ice. But he stopped Dominik before he’d taken his seat on the bench. “You’ll come as Nick Fury though, right?”

He already had the costume—an eyepatch and a trench coat was nothing compared to the request some of the other players had gotten. Dominik had to admit, he was impressed Luke had the balls to ask Sloan to come as Tarzan. The assistant coach had stared at him for a long moment, turned around, gestured to Sebastian and simply said, “deal with him.”

This wedding would be interesting, to say the least.

Resting his forearm on Luke’s shoulder, Dominik leaned down and spoke quietly to avoid distracting the other players. “I’ll make you a deal. You score the first goal and not only will I wear the costume, I’ll ask every single guest to talk about joining the Avengers’ Initiative.”

“That will be epic. You’re on!”

Patting Luke’s shoulder, Dominik grinned, then took his place on the bench. He surveyed the players, frowning when he realized Heath still wasn’t with them. He’d come in with Dominik after being cleared to play by the team doctor. Coach had asked to speak to him, but that had been almost an hour ago. Where the hell was he?

On the ice a few minutes later, Dominik forced himself to focus on the game. The puck dropped and he caught an easy pass, gliding forward and skipping the puck across the ice to Scott. When Scott snapped the puck to Luke, rather than take the shot himself, he couldn’t help but laugh.

First minute of the game and Luke had scored.

He pointed at Dominik as he slid across the ice on one knee.

Dominik inclined his head, then skated along the bench to accept congratulatory fist bumps from the men. This team might be a hot mess sometimes, but they were family. Even if this would be their last season together, here in Dartmouth, he’d never forget a single one of them.

They beat the Caps 4-1, but when the game ended and he still hadn’t seen Heath, he couldn’t get in the mood to celebrate. Something was wrong.

“Mason, could you come in here for a minute.” Sloan stood in the doorway of his office as Dominik passed, stepping aside to let him in, then closing the door behind him. “Please have a seat.”

“No, I don’t think I will.” Dominik folded his arms over his chest. “If this is about Heath I suggest you get right to the point.”

Loosening his tie, Sloan sighed and dropped heavily into his office chair. “We might not be friends anymore, but I’ve always been straight with you. If I’d known sooner, I would’ve told you.”

“Where. Is. He?”

“He was sent home. To pack.” Sloan shoved out of his chair even as Dominik started for the door. “Dominik, don’t do anything you’ll regret. You fucking knew this might happen.”

Ignoring the assistant coach, Dominik stormed down the hall and caught the elevator, heading up. The fucking thing wouldn’t move fast enough. Dominik slammed his fist into the wall, rage burning his throat. He wasn’t being professional, he damn well knew that, but this was personal. This was his family the team was messing with and they hadn’t even had the courtesy to warn him?

He strode off the elevator, almost walking right into Donnell Priest.

“Mr. Mason, if you’d give me a moment of your time?”

Shaking his head, Dominik let out a bitter laugh. “Everyone wants my time now. What is it, Mr. Priest?”

Not seeming fazed by Dominik’s tone, Donnell motioned for Dominik to walk with him down the hall. “I’ve just come from a meeting with the owner, and while I can’t discuss details with you, I can say things are progressing well. I will be in a position to help you as you helped my nephew.”

“All I did was give him some advice.”

“Yes. Then let me give you some.” The older man’s expression hardened. “I understand you are mentoring one of the players. That you would be angry with the trade. That you’re here now tells me you plan to do something rash.”

Dominik held Donnell’s level gaze. “What difference does it make to you?”

“You are a strong leader and this team needs you. This team will also need young, talented players going forward.” Donnell tugged his suit jacket straight. “If you are patient certain acquisitions will be considered. Players who’ve already proven themselves here will be at an advantage.”

“You’re telling me if you buy the team, and if I stay, you might get him back.” Dominik shook his head. “That could take months. A year. And it’s not a guarantee of anything.”

“Maybe not, but I can guarantee if you continue into that office and demand a trade for yourself from the general manager, you’ll end up with nothing. You could be sent to any team in the league. You’ll uproot your whole family.”

“How the hell do you know that’s what I plan to do?”

“Because that’s exactly what I’d want to do in your position.” Donnell’s lips curved slightly. “It’s also a rather educated guess, since there’s no other reason for you to be up here.”

True, but Dominik didn’t like that the man had so effortlessly eliminated the one card he’d still had to play. Not that he hadn’t known it was a weak one at best. Donnell pointing out the obvious had simply given him a chance to consider the facts.

“The general manager will be here to yell at tomorrow if that’s what you decide to do, Mr. Mason.” Donnell lifted his shoulders as they approached another set of elevators. “The young man is leaving tonight. I imagine he’ll want to see you before he does.”

Donnell pressed the button to call the elevator. Stepped on, not looking back to see if Dominik would follow. He didn’t seem surprised when Dominik joined him. He simply inclined his head in farewell when the elevator stopped for the employees’ parking.

A floor down and Dominik crossed the player’s parking lot, ignoring the calls from the lingering players as he got into his truck. He drove home, steeling himself for what laid ahead. Bran would be crushed. Kimber would lash out at everyone. Neither of them would understand why he couldn’t keep their brother on the team. That he didn’t have that power.

The soft sounds of Bran crying when he opened the door hit him like a load of bricks crushing the middle of his chest. He went straight to the living room, where Sahara sat with the little boy in her arms on the sofa, speaking to him softly.

“I know, baby. This is hard, but we should be proud of Heath.” She kissed Bran’s cheek, which was wet with tears, rubbing his back as he started to calm. “He played so well another team fought really hard to get him to play for them.”

“That means the Cobras didn’t fight hard enough to keep him.” Kimber’s eyes narrowed as she spotted Dominik. “Ain’t that right? Bunch of bloody lame ass wankers, jerking off together rather than running the fucking team.”

“Kimber, I don’t ever want to hear you talk like that again. I’m sorry you’re hurting, but your brother’s worked hard for his career. Sahara’s right.” The last thing Dominik wanted to do was scold Kimber when she was this upset, but that kind of talk would hit Heath hard, considering everything his friend in Russia had been dealing with. Besides, Sahara had brought up the one thing he should have considered already. Even though Heath hadn’t had a great start to the season, other teams had made offers. Damn good offers if Richter had accepted one. “Heath might get a better position on another team who needs someone as talented as he is. We should be happy for him.”

“Do you mean that?” Heath came from behind him, dropping his suitcase, his eyes pleading for Dominik to tell him things were going to be okay. “I mean…the Kings are an awesome team. And being out in LA will be cool.”

Damn it, the western conference? Dominik schooled his features, even though they both knew Heath playing way out on the other side of another country would make traveling back and forth that much harder.

He nodded, reaching out to pull Heath into a tight hug. “Yes, I mean that. They’ve been looking for a top scorer for the last two seasons. You’ll be first line in no time. Maybe get your hands on the cup before I do.”

“Yeah…that would cool.” Heath inhaled roughly, then eased back. “Kimber, Bran, please don’t be mad at me. I’ll video call every night. And I’ll come back home whenever I can.”

“Damn it, you dumbass. We ain’t mad at you.” Kimber hurried across the room, throwing herself into her brother’s arms. “We’re gonna miss you so fucking much. But we’ll see you more than we did when you were in Russia, right?”

“Yes. And even better, I won’t be going back there.” Heath rubbed a fist over his eyes and smiled at Dominik. “Nicky was contacted by that group you told me about. He called me from Toronto.”

“That’s amazing, Heath.” The tension in Dominik’s chest eased slightly. Heath looked happy for the first time in much too long. Not because he was leaving, but because he’d finally gotten a break from all that had been weighing him down. “Did you tell him to get in touch whenever he can? I’ll find work for him. A place to stay.”

“I did. I don’t know if he’ll take you up on it. He’s a proud man. Likes to handle things himself.”

“Like someone else we know.” Dominik chuckled when Heath ducked his head. “What time’s your flight? Maybe we can give you a ride to the airport?”

Heath hesitated, then shook his head. “I ain’t about saying goodbye in front of a bunch of strangers, mate. I…just wanna remember you’re here. That you’ll always be here when I come home.”

“We will, Heath. I promise you that.” Dominik cupped the back of Heath’s head, hugging him again, holding him a little longer before he finally had to let him go. “No matter where you go, this is home.”

The cab honked and Dominik got the door for Heath, patting his shoulder and telling him to call when he landed. He hadn’t been prepared to watch the young man who’d come to him so guarded and insecure go, not yet, but his job hadn’t been to keep him here forever. His job had been to teach him how to be a great hockey player, how to survive in the world of a professional athlete. And he’d done exactly what he’d been meant to.

He’d helped him become strong enough to set out on his own.