Page 37 of Cold as (N)ice

COUER

Quebec,Canada

Barrett walked in the door and flashed his ID only seconds before he was tackled by Boucher. The older man normally looked weathered, and he’d lived a hard life, running loose and fast until he signed with the Coyotes – but the strain was telling on him, too. His thin face had bags under his eyes and a line between his eyebrows that looked permanently etched.

“Dude, I am so glad to see you,” Boucher exclaimed in a quiet voice, instantly making his anxiety rachet up another few notches. “I’m freaking out. They are talking about family activities, outings, dinners, and other things. It’s not just a ‘show up and play’ sort of thing. This is a freakin’ commitment.”

“Brother, marriagewasthe commitment,” he chuckled looking at the other man who had the grace to flush as he nodded erratically before rubbing the back of his neck.

“You have no idea.”

“Actually, I might.”

“Naw, I’m pretty sure I’ve got both of you beat,” Boucher said grimly as Lafreniere walked forward, extending a hand and nodded.

“Coeur…”

“Lafreniere…”

“We’re all gathering in the stadium seats. They are still tiling the showers with the updated colors, so the locker rooms are off-limits for now,” Lafreniere explained. “I’ve already met the captain and…”

“Dude’s a major…”

“Wait,” Barrett hesitated. “Boucher, I thought you were…”

“Nope,” the man said in a hushed voice. “Change of heart at the last minute.”

“Oh man, I’m so sorry,” Barrett breathed and then felt his gut give a painful rumble that he might be sick. “Were there any other major changes?”

“No, just that one.”

“Ahhh!” a man in a suit said in the distance. “Our right wing is here, and we can begin shortly with introductions. Welcome to the Wolverines, Coeur.”

“Thank you, sir,” he replied openly, unsure of who he was addressing. The man looked a little older than him, but there was something behind those eyes that was unsettling. A coldness. This was a businessman, and this transaction would be all about stats, numbers, and profit. They could sugarcoat this as a ‘family’ or a ‘team,’ but it would come down to the bottom line, and he knew it.

They followed the man in the suit, recognizing that they were holding up the meeting with their impromptu reunion between them. Frankly, Barrett was glad to see a few friendly faces because the stress was killing him slowly on the inside. It had to be the same for the other two. He couldn’t imagine what Lafreniere was thinking if he was indeed going to be thebackup goalie. If he was currently in pain, he was hiding it from everyone.

Taking a seat together on the same row, he saw several faces watching them and recognized a few more faces.

A few he’d met on the ice.

“Sup…” he said simply with a wave – and received a middle finger in return with a glare that could free ice cubes.

“Nice… and here we go,” he whispered under his breath, looking away.

“Gentlemen!” the man in the suit began easily, clapping his hands together in front of him once, almost as a show of force, as he held them, addressing the group. “I wanted to introduce myself and say hello – and the reason for the secrecy behind our new team. I am Alaric Finnegan…” and Barrett caught his breath, recognizing the name.

The billionaire philanthropist who had whispered of shady dealings left and right attached to his name – and nodded.

“I see you’ve heard of me,” Mr. Finnegan began and held up his hands to calm everyone down. “I’m a silent owner, and you probably will see me attend a few games here and there, but my residence is in another country. You’ll be dealing with the managers most of the time, but if you need something that cannot be handled, I don’t want you to hesitate in reaching out.”

And heard Lafreniere’s ‘Yeah right’ muttered under his breath beside him.

“I know what it’s like to have a smear on your name – and I didn’t want that for any of you.”

“Notice he didn’t plead his innocence to his past?” Boucher whispered quietly, leaning toward him where he sat between his two friends.

“This is to be a family,” Mr. Finnegan said loudly. His voice was authortative. “Family takes care of each other – and it’s not necessarily blood that makes you family but the bonds that youhave between you. I saw your finger…” the billionaire pointed at the man who’d flipped off Barrett not five minutes ago. “And I heard what you said,” he continued, pointing at another man. “Forget it. Forget all of it. When I offered you those contracts, it was because I was certain you would fit in our team, in our world, with the same goals that we want in our hearts – a fresh start.”

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