Chapter 2
Viktor Petanov blended in to the Atherton Wolves like there had never been a team before him.
Yes, they were still losing on the ice, but it was by less and less each game.
Even practices with Pet were fun.
The chirps and insults Brady had grown to associate Petanov with were still there, but toned down.
More teasing than personal.
He was surprised to see how much Pet pushed them to train harder.
How much it pushed himself to train harder.
Once the initial fear and stardom had worn off, Brady and the other guys on the team had started inviting Pet out to drink after the game or to Mack's house to grill.
Or, at least, they tried to invite him out.
For all there wasn't much free time at the beginning of the season, Pet seemed to have plans every single evening or free day.
He was always polite, seeming actually regretful that he couldn't come out with them when he said no. And it wasn't always a no. Normally after away games they could get Pet to come out with them.
Away games seemed to be the trick, except when they played against Rosemont.
At first, Brady had been worried Pet didn't like them.
That the entire thing was personal or something, but during practice and the few times they were able to convince their captain to come out with them, Pet treated them all so warmly and fit in so well Brady almost felt guilty for thinking otherwise.
In conversations with the other guys, Brady knew he wasn't the only one who felt this way.
But no one could give him an answer for what was eating up all of Pet's free time.
The guys had ideas, sure.
Outlandish ones, simple ones, illegal ones.
But no one knew for sure what Viktor Petanov was doing in Atherton when he was not playing hockey.
It wasn't until Donovan had been transferred that things finally came to a head.
It was at one of the first grilling evenings at Mack's with Donovan when the typical conversation had started around the fire pit.
"And so, like, Pet is never at these things?" Donovan had asked, a piece of jerk chicken dangling from his fork.
"Well, he's come once or twice." Mack had answered, a thoughtful face on.
"We always invite him, though I know at this point he's going to be busy."
"Busy missing out on this great food." Whitaker had muttered.
"But what's he doing?" Donovan asked, his face crunched up.
"It's an Atherton Wolves mystery." Sloan was sitting next to Donovan and was grinning at him as he elaborated.
"Just like how UHL star Viktor Petanov gets traded, willingly and by his own choice, to Atherton and yet, no one knows why he chose the team."
Brady noticed, not for the first time, that Sloan was one of the few on the staff who didn't use the language "our team".
It irked him the wrong way, but before he could say anything, Mack had jumped back into the conversation.
"And why he's here?
We've thought of it all.
No fucking clue and the man's sure not telling us."
"You've asked him?" Donovan seemed surprised.
Brady remembered what that was like, when Viktor Petanov was still a god and not a man he knew liked to stop and take cute pictures of any dog they ever passed.
They had nearly missed their flight once because of that.
It was hard to take Pet seriously after that.
"Of course." Brady had answered.
"You can try if you want.
It'd be great to see what Pet comes up with this time."
At Donovan's confused stare, Sloan had explained.
"We've all tried asking.
Heck, it was one of my first questions in his 'meet the new player' interview I did.
But Pet never gives a clear answer.
Never a real answer."
"They're fucking funny though." Whitaker laughed.
"I got:
They have better pasta here."
"What?" Donovan had just looked more confused.
"You'll never get a straight answer out of him." Brady had warned.
"When I asked, he told me he had just wanted to settle down."
"Settle down?
Viktor Petanov?"
Mack threw in his own story.
"He told me there was this tattoo artist he really liked here.
He did really have a new tattoo the next week, but like, it's not like he had to move for that."
"What the fuck."
"Welcome to the team, Donovan." Brady passed him another beer.
"At this point, you've gotta ask him.
It's a Wolf right of passage."
"But, he has to be doing something though.
There has to be a reason he moved here, right?" Donovan took a sip of the beer.
Brady was amused by the almost distress on his face.
"We've all had our theories.
Not all of them are good-" Brady began.
"Hey!
My secret mistress theory is no worse than your running from the law BS." Mack cried.
"Secret mistress?" Donovan's soft echo was drowned out by further arguing, the raised shouts drawing in even more players to the fire pit.
Brady could hardly believe they were having this argument, again.
If he had to sit through one more season of more and more outlandish conspiracy theories on Viktor Petanov's home life he was going to throw something.
"Enough!" He channeled his inner goalie voice to grab everyone's attention.
It took a few moments for the arguments to cut off, but soon Brady had the attention of most of his teammates.
"Enough.
We can't keep doing this guys."
"You're just afraid to admit you're wrong." Mack had thrown back, but his tone was light.
He was listening.
"I'm not saying anyone is wrong or right.
But we can't keep arguing about this." Brady shot back.
"So what?
We're just supposed to let it be?" Whitaker sounded sad, like Brady was suggesting he stopped eating sweets for the rest of the season.
Brady let out a sigh, eying up his teammates over the heat of the fire.
No, they couldn't just let this be.
"I said we can't keep doing this, the way we've been doing it."
"What the hell are you going on about?" Mack leaned forward.
Brady could tell he'd got them.
"No more arguing.
No more BS about who has the better theory.
No more.
We're going to be civilized about this, gentlemen." Brady stood up, feeling a little more drunk of their attention than the drinks he'd been having.
"Everyone gets one bet.
One theory. 5 dollar buy in. And it's all going on an official list."
"A word document?" Sloan had teased.
"An official word document." Brady had agreed.
"Everyone gets one theory - one!
And if this ever comes out, the truth from Petanov's lips, then we'll know.
Who wins.
No more of these arguments."
"Deal." Mack's grin sealed the deal.
If Mack was on board, then the team was on board.