22. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Beckett

I can't believe this is happening. My life just seems to go from bad to worse. Leaning forward, I rest my head in my hands, the half-empty bottle of whiskey on the coffee table in front of me.

Fired. I've been fucking fired.

Though I'm not sure why it's coming as a shock. It was my choice to date Viktor, and I've always known it could come out. I was completely aware of the university's stance on relationships between staff and undergraduate students.

What I didn't expect were the photos President Ghoram slid across his desk in our meeting this morning. Photos of me and Viktor at the club. In the alley. In my bed.

All sent to the university by Noah.

He'd been in Rosewood Bay longer than I realized, watching me. Watching Viktor. My fingers curl into fists in my hair.

That sick fuck took my job, my reputation, my chance to stay in the world of hockey. And he almost took Viktor from me too. The image of my brat sprinting into traffic, that truck bearing down on him, is seared into my brain.

Groaning, I scrub my hand over my face. Fuck, I need a drink. Well, another drink.

As I reach for the bottle, my phone buzzes on the cushion beside me. I grab it, hope flaring in my chest. Viktor's been ignoring me, sending my calls to voicemail, leaving my texts unread.

But it's just Rinne, letting me know he's outside.

I'm really not up for visitors right now, but he's persistent.

Buzzing him into the building, I unlock the door, then drop back onto the couch.

"Hey, Harper," he says quietly, shifting his weight awkwardly. "How you holding up?"

I quirk a brow as I stare at him, lifting the bottle of whiskey.

"That bad?" He drops into the armchair across from me, then grabs the bottle, taking a swig. "Fuck. I needed that."

"Have the rest."

Rinne eyes me for a long moment, his gaze uncomfortably perceptive. "How's your back?"

"Feels like someone's taken a rusty hacksaw to my spine. But what else is new?" I snag the whiskey bottle back and take a long pull. The burn gives me something to focus on besides the throbbing ache radiating up my back.

Rinne's brow furrows. "You thinking about starting PT? Might help, you know. Get ahead of it before it gets worse."

I laugh, the sound bitter and brittle. "Sure, let me get right on that. It's not like I just lost my insurance along with my job or anything."

His mouth tightens, but he doesn't rise to the bait. "What about Viktor? Have you told him yet?"

Just the sound of my boyfriend's name makes my throat close up. I shake my head, blinking hard against the sudden sting in my eyes. "He's not returning my calls or texts. I don't . . . Fuck, Rinne. I'm worried about him."

"He skipped practice yesterday. And today." There's something in his voice, a note of hesitation that makes my stomach clench.

"What?"

He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. "The Titans have a certain way of handling their business. Think Viktor went after your ex."

I swear, the day of the incident he mentioned something about taking care of the problem, but the drugs had hit me hard. Thought I imagined it.

Except Walsh made it clear they killed their former coach, the one who'd assaulted Reed.

"What if something happened to him? What if he's not answering because of Noah . . ." The words die off, my throat closing up.

Rinne grabs my shoulder, squeezing it. "Don't think that's the case, otherwise the rest of the three would be MIA as well. You really love him, don't you?"

I look up, staring at him incredulously. "Of course I fucking love him! Was the part where I threw myself in front of a truck for him not a big enough clue?"

Rinne barks out a laugh. "Easy, tiger. I was just asking."

"I love him so much it scares the shit out of me sometimes. He's a fucking chaotic hurricane. Blows into my life and just . . . upends everything. But I can't imagine my world without him in it anymore."

"For what it's worth, I think you're good for each other. But I gotta admit, I'm not sure how you deal with his . . . eccentricities. Not sure I can take all that obsessive bullshit myself."

While Rinne may be my friend, I want to slam my fist into his nose. "That obsessive personality makes him who he is. I thought you of all people would've noticed. He's a once in a generation goalie. Fucking amazing. But rough around the edges."

Rinne listens, face scrunching as if trying to fit the pieces together.

"Don't tell me you haven't seen that same obsessiveness applied to his training to chasing after perfection as a goalie."

My friend's brows raise high, mouth opening. "Fuck. Never thought of it that way."

"He's got a near perfect GPA in goddamn Chemical and Molecular Engineering." I can't stop the proud smile that spreads. My brat isn't just only brilliant in net, he's motherfucking brilliant.

"I get it. But what makes him great in certain areas of life, doesn't work for relationships."

My lips press into thin a line, nostrils flaring. "He's mine and it works for us. Talk shit some more and you'll be going home with a fat lip."

Rinne chuckles, but it dies quickly. "In all seriousness, though—how do you think he's gonna take the news? About you getting fired? You know he's going to retaliate somehow."

Understatement of the fucking century.

We sit there for a while, just talking, more Rinne listening as I vent. Eventually, he heaves himself out of the chair. "Gotta get home, but let me see what I can do to help. I'm sure I can get something out of Reed."

"Thanks."

He waves over his shoulder and then the door clicks shut softly behind him.

Snagging my phone off the cushion, I dial Viktor for the hundredth fucking time. It goes straight to voicemail.

Again.

"Listen, you stubborn chaotic shit. Call me back or get your ass to my apartment within the hour or I swear to God, Viktor, I will bend you over my knee and spank you center ice in front of the entire team."

I hit end too quickly, realizing after the fact who I just left that message for.

If anything, my demon brat won't be calling me back because I just threatened him with a good time.

Fuck my life.