Chapter 17: The protection

Julian didn’t sleep that night.

He lay on his back in the dark cabin, staring at the ceiling beams while Richard’s last words kept circling in his head like a bad replay on loop. The threat had sunk its teeth in and wouldn’t let go. Every time he closed his eyes he saw his father’s cold smile, heard the quiet promise underneath the words.

Beside him Sebastian slept deeply, chest rising and falling in the slow rhythm of exhaustion. The confrontation had drained them both, but Sebastian had crashed hard once the adrenaline wore off. Julian didn’t wake him. He just lay there, alone with the fear that pressed heavy on his ribs.

When the first pale light finally crept through the curtains, Julian gave up. He eased out of bed, careful not to jostle the mattress, and limped into the kitchen.

He made coffee. Sat at the small table by the window. Stared at the snow.

---

Sebastian found him there an hour later.

Julian hadn’t moved. His mug sat cold in front of him, untouched. Sebastian pulled out the chair across the table and sat down without saying anything at first. He just looked at Julian with those steady eyes that always saw too much.

“You didn’t sleep,” Sebastian said quietly.

“I couldn’t.”

Sebastian reached across the table and took Julian’s hand, thumb brushing over his knuckles. “Talk to me.”

Julian stayed quiet for a long moment, trying to find the words. “He’s going to come after us. Not just me. You. Your team. Your mom. Everyone we care about.”

“We knew that.”

“I know.” Julian’s voice cracked a little. “But hearing him say it out loud… seeing him standing right here in the cabin… it made everything feel so real and scary.”

Sebastian squeezed his hand tighter. “Then we make it real for him too. We fight back.”

Julian looked up. “How?”

“First we call my lawyer. And your mom. You said she has evidence.”

Julian nodded slowly, the weight of it settling on him again. “She’s been collecting things for years. Financial records. Emails. Testimony from people my father screwed over. She wanted to use them in the divorce, but he threatened her.”

“Then we use them now.”

Julian’s hands started to shake. “What if it’s not enough? What if he still wins?”

Sebastian stood, walked around the table, and knelt in front of him. He rested his big hands on Julian’s knees, grounding him.

“Then we keep fighting,” Sebastian said, voice low and sure. “That’s what winning looks like, Julian. Not one big victory. Just getting up every day and not giving up.”

Julian stared at him. His eyes burned. “When did you get so wise?”

Sebastian smiled, small and soft. “I had a good teacher.”

“Who?”

“You.” Sebastian’s thumb traced a slow circle on Julian’s knee. “I learned from watching you wait seven years.”

Julian let out a shaky breath. He leaned forward and kissed Sebastian—slow, grateful, the kind of kiss that said everything he couldn’t put into words yet. When they pulled back, foreheads still touching, some of the panic had eased.

“Okay,” Julian whispered. “Let’s call your lawyer.”

---

The call lasted almost an hour.

Sebastian paced the cabin while he talked, phone on speaker so Julian could jump in with details. His lawyer, Chen—a sharp, no-nonsense woman who had handled all his NHL contracts—listened without interrupting. When they finally finished laying everything out, the line went quiet for a long beat.

“This is serious,” Chen said at last. “Richard Frost is powerful. But he’s not untouchable. If your mother has the evidence you described, we can build a real case. Fraud. Embezzlement. Possibly extortion.”

Sebastian glanced at Julian. Julian nodded once, jaw tight.

“Start the process,” Sebastian told her. “We’ll send you everything we have.”

Chen promised to get moving immediately. Sebastian hung up and dropped onto the couch beside Julian, shoulder to shoulder.

“She thinks we have a chance.”

“She’s a lawyer,” Julian said with a tired half-smile. “They always think they have a chance.”

Sebastian laughed under his breath. “Fair point.”

Julian leaned into him, letting some of the tension bleed out. “I should call my mom.”

“Now?”

“Now. Before I lose my nerve.”

---

Julian’s mother picked up on the second ring.

“Julian? It’s early.”

“I know. I’m sorry. But I need your help.”

Her voice sharpened instantly, alert. “What’s wrong?”

He told her everything—the cabin, Richard’s surprise visit, the threats, the plan to fight back. When he finished, the line stayed silent for so long he thought the call had dropped.

Then she spoke, quiet and fierce. “I’ve been waiting for this call for ten years. I have files, Julian. Boxes of them. I was going to use them in the divorce, but he threatened to take you away from me. So I stayed quiet. I’ve been waiting for you to be ready.”

“I’m ready now.”

“Then I’ll send everything. Copies, not originals. You have to keep them safe. Don’t tell anyone you have them.”

Julian nodded even though she couldn’t see him. “Thank you so much.”

“I’m your mother. I should have protected you better. Let me do it now.”

His throat tightened. “I love you.”

“I love you too. Be careful.”

She hung up.

Julian stared at the phone in his hand for a long moment. Sebastian slid an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close.

“She’s sending the files?”

“Boxes of them. She’s been collecting evidence for ten years.”

Sebastian let out a low whistle. “Your mother is terrifying.”

Julian managed a small smile. “She learned from living with my father.”

---

After the calls, the cabin felt quieter, lighter somehow.

Julian stood by the window, staring at the snow, when Sebastian came up behind him. Strong arms wrapped around his waist, pulling his back against a solid chest. Sebastian pressed a slow kiss to the side of his neck, then another just below his ear.

“You okay?” Sebastian murmured against his skin.

Julian turned in his arms, hands sliding up to cup Sebastian’s face. “I’m scared,” he admitted. “But I feel… less alone.”

“You’re not alone, you won't be alone anymore.”

Their mouths met—deep and unhurried this time, full of relief and the kind of tenderness that came after carrying fear for too long. Julian melted into it, fingers threading through Sebastian’s hair, bodies pressing closer until there was no space left between them. Sebastian’s hands moved gently over his back, grounding him, reminding him they were still here, still together. When they finally broke apart, both breathing a little harder, Julian rested his forehead against Sebastian’s collarbone.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

Sebastian kissed the top of his head. “We’ve got this.”

---

The youth clinic started late that morning.

The snow had stopped overnight and the roads were clear enough for the buses. Kids spilled out in bright jackets and scarves, their laughter cutting through the cold air like bells.

Julian stepped onto the ice and something had changed in him. His jaw was set. His eyes sharp. He moved through the drills with a fierce focus Sebastian had never seen before. He wasn’t just coaching anymore—he was fighting.

The kids felt it. They skated harder, listened better, pushed themselves more. Even the smallest ones kept up by the end of practice.

During a water break Sebastian skated over, helmet tucked under his arm.

“You’re intense today.”

Julian wiped sweat from his face with his sleeve. “I’m done being scared.”

“That’s good.”

“It’s exhausting.”

Sebastian grinned. “Probably. But you look good doing it.”

Julian’s cheeks went pink. “Shut up.”

“Make me.”

Julian shoved him lightly, but he was smiling—the first real smile since Richard had left.

---

At the end of the day the kids lined up to say goodbye.

The little girl who had once asked if they were brothers skated up to Julian and tugged his sleeve.

“Are you coming back tomorrow?”

Julian crouched down so they were eye level. “Tomorrow’s our last day.”

Her face fell. “I don’t want you to go.”

Julian’s expression softened. “I don’t want to go either. But I have to go fight some bad guys.”

Her eyes widened. “Like superheroes?”

“Something like that.”

She thought about it, then threw her arms around his neck in a quick, fierce hug before skating away.

Julian stood up slowly, eyes a little bright. Sebastian skated over and rested a hand on his shoulder.

“She’s gonna miss you.”

“I’m gonna miss her too.”

Sebastian squeezed gently. “We’ll come back. Someday. When this is all over.”

Julian looked at him. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

---

That night they sat by the fire with Julian’s mother’s files spread across the coffee table.

Boxes of papers. Years of bank statements, emails, photographs, signed statements. Proof after proof of fraud, bribes, deals made in back rooms.

Julian sorted through them methodically, face serious in the firelight. Sebastian watched him, quiet and proud.

“You’re different now,” Sebastian said after a while.

Julian glanced up. “Different how?”

“Before the cabin you were scared of your father. Of the future. Of everything.” Sebastian paused. “Now you’re not.”

“I’m still scared,” Julian admitted. “I’m just not letting it stop me anymore.”

Sebastian leaned over and kissed him, slow and sure. “That’s the bravest thing anyone’s ever said.”

Julian smiled against his mouth. “Don’t get used to it. I’m still a mess.”

“You’re my mess.”

Julian laughed—warm and bright and real. The sound filled the cabin.

They worked late into the night, organizing everything, making copies, getting ready for the fight ahead. The fire burned low. Wind howled outside the windows. But inside there was warmth, purpose, and the quiet strength of two people who had finally stopped running.