Page 101 of The Last Inch Of Ice
“You’d destroy someone’s career because—” Kai can’t even finish the sentence.
“I would protect my family’s interests. As I always have.” Doyle turns back to the window, dismissing him. “You’re free to go.”
Kai walks out of the conservatory on legs that feel disconnected from his body. The hallway is too bright after the dim light inside.
He fumbles for his sunglasses—those overpriced Persols he bought in Milan—but they slip through his numb fingers and clatter on the marble floor.
He leaves them there. Evelyn will probably find them later, return them to him with a look of sympathy she’ll never voice.
He makes it to his car before the shaking starts. Sits in the driver’s seat of his Taycan with the doors locked and his forehead pressed against the steering wheel, trying to breathe through the panic.
He will not let this happen.
The thought crystallizes with sudden, absolute clarity. He will not let his father destroy Nazar. Will not let the Callahan empire claim another victim.
He thinks of Nazar’s fierce, determined eyes. The way he climbed a building because Kai needed him. The way he held Kai in the shower and promised he wasn’t alone.
He thinks of Nazar’s brother—a man he only knows from Nazar’s story. Another person destroyed by Doyle Callahan’s need for control.
The feeling that rushes through him is so powerful it eclipses everything else. Grief. Anger. Fear. Self-preservation. It all burns away, leaving just one unshakeable truth:
He loves him.
He’s in love with Nazar Rykov.
And there is no hiding from it anymore. No deflecting with sarcasm or running away or pretending it’s just physical. He loves him. Loves him enough to destroy himself to keep him safe.
The realization should feel freeing. Instead it feels like a cage closing around him.
Because loving Nazar means protecting him.
Kai starts the car and drives home on autopilot, his mind already calculating. Planning. Figuring out how to destroy the one good thing in his life before his father does it for him.
* * *
The first games of the new season are a blur.
Kai’s team is winning. Playing on autopilot, a machine running on pure adrenaline and a steely resolve that feels like armor welded directly to his bones.
He doesn’t reply to Nazar’s messages.
They start coming in after every game. Terse at first, then increasingly concerned.
Nazar:good game tonight
Nazar:saw that assist in the third. beauty
Nazar:you playing through something? looked like you were favoring your shoulder
Nazar:Vancouver soon. i’m already counting down
Kai reads them all. Saves them. Reads them again at night when he can’t sleep. Then deletes them one by one, his thumb hesitating over each one before pressing delete with the finality of an execution.
The silence is a shield. A necessary, brutal kindness.
Nazar doesn’t know what’s coming. Doesn’t know that every day Kai doesn’t respond is another day he’s keeping him safe from Doyle Callahan’s reach.
The game against Comets is scheduled for a Friday night. National broadcast.
