Thirty seconds later Reid waltzed in, but not alone. Kennedy was with him, along with their cute dog Bucky, who immediately jumped on his uncle Bast.
“Hey, boy, how are ya?”
Reid pulled Bucky back, then undid his leash. “Okay if he has free run of the place?”
“Sure. As you can see the maid hasn’t been in.”
Reid took a long look. “You okay?”
“I’ve been better.”
“Brother, this sucks.”
“I know.” Of course Reid was going to feel bad. At this rate, it would be almost a year since the last time Bast played a full game. He’d missed most of last season, the Olympics—Reid was alternate and came home with the gold—and now he would probably be out of action until the New Year at the minimum.
“Not your fault,” he muttered to soothe Reid’s guilt. Again. They’d been playing this game all year, and now a sizzle of irritation zipped through his chest.
“Well—”
“Seriously, bro. We’re good.”
Reid winced, fronting that look he got on the regular, the one that replayed the dynamics of their childhood. The weird protective streak.
Back then Reid had stood up for him when other kids were dicks but reserved the right to be a bully of his own. Bast had adored Reid, even when he was cruel to him. He had let his older brother push him around because one, he was smaller, and two, he knew on some instinctual level that Reid was treated unfairly by Henri. The more of a prick Henri was to his stepson, the more Reid took it out on Bast.
But eventually Bast was the same size as his brother and Reid stopped shoving Bast around, which coincided with them going their own ways. Different colleges. Different cities. Different routes to the NHL. Henri continued to grind on Reid, criticizing his diet, his regimen, his play. Picking at every part of him, all with the goal of making him stronger and getting him from the AHL to the big leagues. And Reid made it, then finally found his place on the Rebels.
Bast’s journey had been different, a top-ten draft pick straight to the Hawks, his trajectory assured. There’d been no surprise when the team won the Cup a couple of years later. It was the kind of success expected in their family.
Reid had been there, cheering him on, never hinting he was jealous, though he had to be. While Reid liked to pretend he didn’t feel like other people, he was the most emotional guy Bast knew. Bast saw that favoritism shown by Henri extend into their adulthood. Saw how it cut Reid to the quick, made him turn inward. He tried to make it up to him by being kind, and when they were both in Chicago, by extending the hand of friendship. But some part of him enjoyed being Henri’s favorite, felt he deserved it because Reid had been such an asshole when they were younger.
When things came to a head and Reid lashed out at Bast during the game that resulted in Bast’s wrist injury, Bast realized how much damage Henri had done to his older brother. But also, how much damage Bast had done by never standing up to his father on Reid’s behalf. Maybe that wasn’t his job, but … he’d felt guilty anytime he heard Henri telling Reid he needed to work harder or spend more time in the gym or eat the right foods. Things he rarely told Bast.
Bystander revenge, Bast had labeled it.
But things were better between them. Reid had apologized, and they were tighter than ever. Now this re-injury felt like all the work they’d put in on this relationship, the closeness they’d forged over the last year, was destroyed.
She was to blame. Pepper Cal-fucking-houn.
Kennedy put her arms around him. She was short and barely reached his collarbones.
“Hi,” she murmured into his pecs.
“Hi,” he said to the top of her head.
The most important member of the tight-knit triumvirate trotted over and nuzzled his leg, which was Bast’s cue to hunker down and give him a good rub. “Hey Buck, you okay, boy?”
Bucky gave him a lick in return, then seemed to recoil. “What, don’t like bourbon?”
The dog sniffed and wandered over to Reid, who had taken a seat on the sofa.
“I’d offer you a drink, but I need it all to stay paralytic.”
Kennedy handed his sweats to him from the floor. “I’m loving the view, but it’s cold in here. Suit up, Bast baby.”
While he pulled them on, he took the armchair so Kennedy could cozy up to Reid.
“You guys don’t need to be here. I’m just having a day, okay?”
Kennedy looked at him seriously. “We’re here because we’re family. Whatever you need.”
“A new wrist would be nice. But failing that, I’m thinking of getting away for a bit. Could I stay at your place in Belhaven Harbor?”
Reid frowned. “How would you get there? The Upper Peninsula is over five hours away from Chicago.”
“I can drive.” He shouldn’t, but if he took breaks, he’d be fine.
“Yeah, but why not stay here?” Reid looked at Kennedy then back at his brother. “With people you know.”
This was rather rich coming from a hater like Reid, but Bast understood his intent. Family meant more to him now that Kennedy and Bucky had opened his heart. There it was again, a spark of annoyance, one he couldn’t attribute accurately. If he was sober, he might think he was jealous.
The skate was on the other foot, apparently.
“There’s been such a build-up to the season, all this expectation, and now I have to wait again. Not sure I want to be in a sports-mad city with sports-mad opinions. Some fucker online said I deserved what I got because I left the Hawks.”
“Asshole,” Reid said. “But why the fuck are you online?”
Because he’d been running an intel op on one Pepper Calhoun while he got progressively more and more drunk and became distracted by a few choice morsels about himself.
Reid was still talking. “You’re seriously going to head to a lonely cabin like some serial killer. Are you trying to get away from us?”
“You’re not that annoying. Even if you and Ken and Bucky are the picture-perfect happy family that’s just sugary-sweet enough to make my teeth ache—”
“So you are trying to get away from us. Hey, have you talked to Dad?”
“He’s left several messages.” Mostly about the potential for a lawsuit with Pepper and the team org in his crosshairs. “I can’t deal with him right now.”
Reid nodded in sympathy. Henri Durand’s input would not be helpful here.
Kennedy patted Reid’s knee and leaned forward. “Bast, are you sure it’s okay to be so far away from the team docs and physios?”
“I’ve been through this before. It just needs rest for a while.”
“And you need some peace.”
“Yeah, I do.”
Kennedy got it, but then his sister-in-law was very intuitive. At least he’d always thought so until she made her next statement.
“I feel really bad for Pepper.”
He perked up. “Why? This is her fault.”
Kennedy’s nose twitched. “Technically, I suppose.”
“Uh, not technically. Actually. Full-bodied, mascot-suited blame can be laid at her clod-hopping feet.”
“That’s kind of harsh. You know she didn’t do it on purpose, and you were taking your time coming off the ice. Flirting with that fan.”