57. DMITRI

57

DMITRI

"Are we hiding a body?" Hughes asks when he comes over. He's in formal wear, all-black.

"You had a date today," I realize.

"I don't call them dates," is his answer, complete with a cocky grin.

Quinn wears jeans and a t-shirt. "What's the emergency?"

We're in the living room. Kavi is out right now, taking Mayo for a walk. Unnecessarily giving me privacy while I tell Hughes and Quinn about my knee.

I give them the facts. Fast, without making eye-contact.

What I don't expect is their instant seething anger at how I was abandoned at the bar and how I woke up alone.

They also hate my father's motto. That no one is there for you.

"We're here for you," Hughes repeats more than once.

Quinn echoes the statement, just as intensely.

"Do you want to tell the coach?" Hughes, the captain of the Vancouver Wings asks, a man who should have an obligation to report this.

"If I say no?" I ask carefully.

"It's a no."

"If I say yes?"

Hughes studies me. "If that's what you want, we'll do it strategically. You're staying on our team, no matter what. We need you."

"We're family," claims Quinn. A word I know holds massive weight with him, considering how he grew up without it.

They get to work for me. Hunting for a solution.

A reaction to my situation that hits me all at once. The corner of my eyes burn as I realize my dad was wrong. The right people don't abandon you. They don't step on your shoulders to get ahead.

They get into the trenches, joining you, working your problem as if it's their problem.

An old weight clunks, falling off my shoulders.

I tell them everything, feeling lighter than I ever thought possible.