Page 38 of His Reward
I paused by the door to watch Lucien for a second. He’d closed his eyes, and if he hadn’t instantly fallen asleep, I was reasonably certain he’d be gone before I made it down to the parking lot. I hated leaving him, though. He had a sadness around him that I wanted to battle like a five-alarm blaze. Saying that he wanted to make a comeback in the skating world was one thing, but I had the feeling he knew just how much of an uphill climb that would be.
I would be there for him every step of the way, but I knew that doing so would only play into his father’s hands.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Lucien
It felt weird to be alone in my own home. Even though either Mom or Boston showed up every day to drive me to rehab, even after the Christmas and New Year’s holidays came and went, when the January weather turned nasty and dumped either snow or ice on Barrington, I still spent more time alone in my condo than I’d ever spent before.
“You should come down to the new rink just to be around the ice and us,” Oliver said when he called me one day in early January, about three weeks before the Winter Games opening ceremony. “We’ve all definitely missed you.”
“I don’t want to get in anybody’s way,” I lied, absentmindedly touching the left side of my head.
Oliver laughed. “You won’t be in anybody’s way, believe me. We’ve all been dying to see you. Mike says he tried to drop by and visit you the other day but you were at rehab when he was free.”
I felt my whole body flush. Mike had called the week before, asking if he could come over on one of his rare days off from training. I’d lied and said I wouldn’t be home. I wasn’t sure I was ready to see any of my old friends yet. Or rather, I wasn’t sure I was ready for them to see me. Or what was left of me.
“You’re three weeks away from the Winter Games,” I told Oliver. “None of you need my ugly face distracting you when you’re so close.”
I tried to sound flippant, but I meant it literally. I still had a hard time looking in mirrors. I was just so…changed. It was worse than the pain of regrowing skin.
I could practically hear the pity in Oliver’s voice as he said, “You should be here with us. We all know that you were the one who had the best shot of standing on top of that podium.”
I swallowed hard, deeply aware of the tightness, tingling, and whispers of pain in the left side of my body. “I’ll be back on top someday,” I said, trying and failing to sound confident. “It’s just going to take a little more time and work before I get there. And I need to convince my father that I’m serious about wanting to return to skating.”
Oliver was silent for way too long on the other end of the line. It wasn’t great when he spoke, either. “Um, Lucien, you know that your father has started coaching Stephen Dousegard, right?”
It shouldn’t have, but the bottom dropped out of my stomach. “Oh yeah?” I said, my voice coming out too thinly to be casual.
“Yeah,” Oliver said. “And he’s been working with the Winter Games committee to have Stephen declared eligible for this year’s games.”
“He’s still a junior,” I said hollowly. I knew as well as anyone that he could qualify.
“He turned eighteen and had his first heat a few months ago,” Oliver told me. “Technically, he’s old enough to compete on the senior circuit. Your father is trying to have his junior championships declared sufficient for eligibility for the Winter Games.”
“That would suck for Mike,” I said. “Me dropping out meant he could take the last spot in male omega singles.”
“Yeah, he’s not happy about it,” Oliver said. “We all know your father gets his way in the skating world whenever and however he wants it.”
We changed the subject and talked about nicer things for a few more minutes before I told Oliver I had rehab soon, which I actually did. Once I ended the call, though, I flopped back on my sofa and just stared out the window at the grey, icy, windswept ocean.
My father had taken on another skater. Not just any other skater, Stephen Dousegard. Knowing it had happened like some abstract concept was one thing. Seeing it with my own eyes was another entirely. For the last year, people had been whispering that Stephen would give me a run for my money as soon as he became a senior and that I’d better win gold at this year’s Winter Games, because there was no way Stephen would leave room for me to win it in three years.
Essentially, my father had just replaced me with a newer, better model.
Was there any point in trying to make a comeback in skating if Stephen Dousegard was already reaching for my gold? Who was I without skating? I couldn’t do anything else. I’d gotten okay grades in school, but I’d mostly studied with tutors while training. I hadn’t gone to college. Skating was the one and only thing I’d set my sights on. Was I even me without it? Maybe Father was right and all I was good for now was popping outbabies, babies who might reach the heights that I had tasted and then lost someday.
A knock at the door shook me out of my increasingly depressed thoughts. I dragged myself up from the sofa and went over to answer it. By feel alone, I already knew it was Boston.
“Hey,” he said as soon as the door was open. His bright smile dropped as soon as he looked at me. “You okay?”
“Do I look that bad?” I asked in return, touching my mangled ear before I could force myself not to.
Boston knew. Whether it was the potential bond that seemed to swirl in the air whenever we were close or whether I looked as awful as I felt, he knew. He reached for me, pulling me into a hug.
“Hey, hey,” he said, enveloping me in his large, comforting body. “Seriously, what’s wrong?”
I didn’t want to answer. I wanted to lose myself in my alpha. I wanted to pack away everything that was Lucien Monteverdi, has-been figure skater, and become Boston’s omega, his slave. I wanted him to tie me up and order me around, taking away my will and all the frustrations and disappointments that irritated me more than the itch of my healing skin, which was saying something. I wanted him to knock me up and force me to have his baby for real instead of just pretend. It was the easier option. Maybe it was the only option left for me.
