CHAPTER SIXTEEN
VIKTORIYA
I close the door of the treatment room quietly behind myself. It took every trick in the book to get into this place with the increased security, but as soon as I heard, I knew I had to come.
Liam sits up, wincing. “Okay, if this is a hallucination I want more of those drugs.”
I sit down beside him. His leg, particularly the area around his knee, is black, blue, and swollen. “You don’t want to know the kind of bribery and ninja tactics I pulled out to get in here, even for five minutes.”
Liam looks down between his legs. “Five minutes to make you come? I can do that.”
I shove him in the shoulder.
He winces again.
“Sorry.”
He puts his hand up, but I can see the pain written on his face as his features draw together. “It’s fine, it’s fine. Shouldn’t you be training with Daniel?” he asks, changing the subject.
“I had to come and see you. Besides, Daniel’s crashed out.”
Liam’s eyebrows knit together. “’Crashed out?’”
“Asleep,” I correct. “The painkillers he’s been taking… He won’t be up until midday.”
“But he’ll be right for the final, won’t he?”
Liam’s concern is touching. I take his hand and run my thumb over his palm lightly, cannot help the flicker of sensation that starts up between my legs. “We’ve been skating together forever. He’ll be fine. He always is. The question is, will you be okay for your final?”
Liam pushes himself off the bed, standing, teeth gritted in a forced smile. “Okay? I’ve never felt better.”
“How did it happen?” I ask, brushing my hair over my ear.
He looks at me silently for a moment, the amber flecks in his eyes catching the light. He breathes out. “I had a run-in with a brick wall, and by brick wall I mean Bogdan Smirnov.”
My chest tightens. “He did this?”
“It was a team effort, but mostly your wonderful ex. Don’t worry, though. He’s going to get what’s coming to him.”
I take Liam’s arm, holding him tight. “You’re not going to do anything stupid, are you? You could put in a formal complaint, go to the Olympic committee, tell them—”
Liam places a finger on my lips. “No, it wouldn’t do any good. Like I said, I can handle it.” He looks down at his knee again. “I’ve skated through far worse than a bum knee.”
“It looks like a basketball,” I muse.
He holds me by the shoulders. “I. Will. Be. Fine.”
There’s a light knock on the door, my signal to leave.
Liam hangs his head sullenly before looking up to me. “You’ve got to go, right? And I didn’t even get to first base.”
I lean forward and kiss him, allow my hand to come up against his cheek and stubble, the contrast of sensation threatening to seduce me all over again.
I break away panting. “Tomorrow night, you win. You take the Russian team down. Promise me.”
That cheeky, hung smile I’ve come to love returns. “I promise.”
I give him one more quick kiss, winking as I push through the door, a nervous official waiting for the twenty autographs I promised him for this favor. “Win,” I tell Liam quietly, “and you can fuck me in the ass.”
I close the door before he can get a word out, quietly smiling to myself. That will do it.
*
Bogdan and a group of others are playing cards in the Russian recreation room. He smiles when he sees me coming. “Viktoriya, my darling. To what do we owe this pleasure?”
I walk right up to him and punch him square in the nose. It hurts like hell, but I don’t let it show as I stand there.
Bogdan pinches his nose, blood running out between his fingers. “What the fuck?!” he exclaims in Russian, the others standing and moving away like I’m suddenly carrying the plague.
I stab my finger at him, conscious of other Russian athletes gathering behind me to watch the spectacle. “I know what you did, you asshole, and you’re going to pay.”
Bogdan wipes the blood away, stepping up to me. “So, Yankee Doodle has got you fighting his fights, has he? Figures.”
I punch him again in the chest, but this time he’s ready. He barely moves. He looks down laughing, but he makes no attempt to touch me. “Go ahead. Whatever makes you feel better, Viktoriya.”
“What’s going to make me feel better,” I spit, “is seeing the US take gold tomorrow night.”
There’s a murmur behind me, but I ignore it.
Bogdan nods, leaning forward and whispering into my ear. I can smell the iron bite of the blood leaking from his nose. “You better be careful what you say around here, you traitorous bitch.”
Someone grabs my arm and pulls me away.
It’s Daniel.
“I’m not done,” I tell him, trying to shake free.
“Oh,” Bogdan laughs, “you’re done, alright.” He sniggers as Dimitri drags me away. “You’re finished, both of you.”
“Let me go!” I scream at Daniel, kicking and trying to force myself from his grip, but he’s stronger than he looks.
He pushes me into his room and closes the door, standing against it so I can’t escape. “What the hell are you doing, Vik?”
His eyes are bloodshot. He looks tired.
I point my finger past him. “Do you know what that prick did to Liam?”
“I heard rumors.”
“So let me kick his ass.”
Dimitri puts his hand up to block me. “And what good would that do? Think about it. You want to get kicked off the team, now, when we are so close to our dream?”
I sigh, the angst and tension running out of me. “What do you suggest I do then, huh?”
Dimitri opens the door, standing aside. “Skate.”