The Penalty Box (Vancouver Wolves Hockey #3)(16)

I gave him terse instructions to my place, and then he pulled up in front of the decrepit house-turned-apartment-building that I called home. We ran through the rain, and he towered over me as I fitted the key into the front door. I led him up two flights of creaking, threadbare, carpeted stairs before unlocking all three deadbolts on my apartment door.

I led him up another half flight of stairs into my cramped attic loft.

“Watch your head,” I warned him under the slanted roof. I tossed my wet jacket on a hook but didn’t offer to take his coat. He stood, dripping wet, in the middle of the room, looking around with interest. The place was small, to begin with, but with him standing in the middle of the room, it felt claustrophobic.

“How long have you lived here?”

“Two years.” Two long years. Ever since I had inherited my debt.

“Is the furniture yours?”

“Nope.”

“Where’s the rest of your belongings?”

“That’s it.”

His curious eyes looked around the impersonal space. “I’ve taken women away for weekends who packed more stuff than you own.”

I imagined sex-hazed weekends in five-star locations. No wonder his castoffs all came to Krista, begging her to help them keep his interest. “I’m a minimalist.”

“You need more stuff,” he decided.

“Said no one ever.”

I forced myself to face him. We needed to get this over with. He needed to say what he needed to say.

“Speak.”

“Krista said you’re considering… helping me.”

The guy couldn’t even bring himself to say the word marrying.

I crossed my arms. “I have strong objections to the plan.”

His eyes found mine. “You and me both.”

“You go first.”

He pinned me with a look. “I want you to tell me about last night.”

The only person who knew about my troubles was Jasper. I sighed. “My reckless and irresponsible brother is a dumb ass. He borrowed eighty thousand dollars from Yazimoto.”

“Who’s Yazimoto?”

I couldn’t meet his eyes. “He belongs to the Japanese gang Sasori.”

“Where is your brother?”

“In jail. They came after me when he failed to pay them back.”

“Is that why you’ve been working two jobs?”

“I’ve already paid off the debt and then some, but they keep showing up, asking for more.”

“Gang debt never ends.”

“I’m starting to figure that out.”

His eyes hardened. “If you marry me, Yazimoto will never come near you again.”

Oh my gosh, I wanted that. I wanted more than anything to put this big man between myself and my gang problems. It would be completely unfair, but the temptation was real. I shook my head. “The point of getting married is to clean up your image. Not deal with my issues.”

His response was to pin me with another intense look, reminding me of the guy he had become behind the bar.

“Mica, what would you do?”

“Handle it.”

“If you go to the cops, they’ll kill my brother!”

“I have no intention of going to the cops.”

I chewed my bottom lip, debating that option. “How? How will you handle it? You don’t know what these people are like.”

His look darkened further. “I have friends who know how to deal with someone like him.”

My voice went up a notch. “Like the mysterious Russian friend that got you into this mess in the first place? This is exactly the kind of situation you need to avoid.”

“Trust me on this.”

Did it make me a bad person to want to accept his offer? Call it instinct, but I knew that if anyone could help me, it was him. But what would it cost him? And why would he want to help me? We barely knew each other.

“Why would you help me?”

“I hate bullies.”

I took a moment to study him. He looked like someone who hated bullies. He looked tough and formidable. Still, I couldn’t believe I was considering this. “Why are you so averse to marriage?”

He blinked but didn’t answer.

“Full disclosure, Petrov. If we’re getting into this mess together, I also need to know what I’m getting into.”

“My parents hate each other.”

“That’s the reason you don’t want to get married?”

His nostrils flared. “Growing up and living in that house with them every day provided more than enough reason to never get married.”

“When did they get divorced?”

He stared at me for a long moment. “They didn’t.”

Wow. I’d never seen him sound so bitter and dark. What would it be like to marry someone so opposed to marriage? This went far beyond him not finding me attractive. This aversion was real. “You’d resent me if we got married.”

He took in a deep breath. “Maybe. But I’d try not to.”

At least he was capable of honesty. It was my turn to speak my truth. “Long after this arrangement ends, I need to continue to work with your teammates. I couldn’t handle it if you… cheated on me.”

His blue eyes held mine. “That’s fair, but those terms apply to you too.”