“You don’t want her,” I said, wholly shaking now. “You’ve never wanted her. Never wanted anything to do with us. Just…leave us alone.” I tried to gather strength into the words, but I was in full panic mode.
“You ought to think about easy streets and hard ones.”
Nightmare.
This was the stuff of my nightmares.
Where memories and the present meshed together to create one hellish outcome.
“Easy street or hard street?” he’d ask, his form towering over my trembling body curled on the floor.
“Easy,” I’d cry.
A kick to the stomach, hard and sharp.
Another for good measure.
“That’s easy,” he said. “Don’t ever take the hard street.”
Ten years of fear and anger twisted and tangled and I drew myself up to be as tall as my short frame would allow.
“You need to ask yourself if bothering me is worth it,” I said, a growl in my tone. “Because I swear to God if you come near me again, or even try to come near my daughter, I’ll make you suffer in ways that will make prison look like a fucking resort vacation.”
He had the good sense to flinch, to stand there blinking at me like he had no idea who I was.
And he didn’t.
I was no longer that cowering, terrified and broken girl.
I would not bow to his will, would not bend to his raised hand.
And there was nothing I wouldn’t do for Elliott.
He glanced behind my shoulder, then glared at me before turning around and hurrying out the double exit doors.
My fingers trembled as I uncurled them from the fists I’d had them in.
“Hey,” Hudson’s voice reached out and soothed the jagged edges of my heart, and I took steadying breaths before I turned around to face him.
Freshly showered, in athletic gear, he looked good enough to eat. But all I really wanted him to do was hold me. He motioned his head toward the doors.
“What was that about?” he asked.
I stepped toward him, slipping my arms around his middle, laying my head on his chest.
He dropped his gear bag, instantly enveloping me.
“Shea,” he said. “Shea you’re shaking.” He held me tighter.
“I’m fine,” I promised.
“Who was that?” he growled.
I tipped my head up, locking with his blue eyes, letting the goodness and the strength in them chase away the panic in mine. “No one,” I said honestly. “And nothing I can’t handle.”
Chapter 15
Hudson
“Here you go,” I said as I signed a hat for a little kid who had recognized me during Elliott’s game. I gave it back to him with a smile. Little fans, I loved. Press? Not so much. There was a difference.
“You played great today,” the little guy managed between his two missing front teeth, clutching the hat to his chest.
“Thank you. Do you play, too?”
He shook his head. “Just my big brother. But I start next year!”
“Well, good luck! Maybe I’ll see you out there.”
His eyes grew huge, and he grinned. “Thank you for signing my hat!” Then he ran back across the lobby to his waiting parents.
It hit me then...I was a waiting parent, too. Kind of.
Elliott’s team had won, and while none of the goals were Elliott’s, she had three of the assists, which made me prouder than if she’d scored them all. My girl was a team player.
I was settling into the whole “hockey...not-quite-dad” thing. It was usually the opposing team who asked for autographs once they recognized me. The parents on our team were used to me by now, thank God.
I spotted the first kid on Elliott’s team to leave the locker room but knew I had a few minutes before she would appear. She was a social butterfly, and the locker room was no exception.
Rushing Elliott was pointless. That girl did things on her own time, just like her mom. I glanced toward the locker room when another kid appeared, but still no Elliott.
Hudson: I wish you were here. She did great.
Shea: Me, too. I hate having to work on Saturdays. Plus, I missed your game.
Hudson: No worries, we’ll both have plenty more.
Shea: You’re kind of hot on the ice, though...
Hudson: Oh really? Want to have a sleepover? I’ll even make you a late dinner.
We could have her fake-sleep in the guest room if it made her more comfortable when it came to Elliott. I’d make sure my alarm was set with foghorns if it meant I could sleep all night with Shea in my arms.
Shea: That’s an offer I can’t refuse.
My stomach tensed with anticipation, and I looked up to see Elliott’s red hair emerging from the locker room.
Hudson: I can’t wait. Our girl is done, I’ll see you at home.
Slipping the phone into my back pocket, I made my way through the throng of small people toting large bags of gear.
Elliott paused in the hallway, talking to a guy I didn’t recognize.
She shook her head and looked toward me before glancing back up at the guy and shaking her head again. I started hauling ass, careful not to crush any small humans on the way.
I couldn’t tell from the distance, but he looked a lot like…
Yep. As I came within feet of them, I saw that he was the same guy who had upset Shea last week at the game.
“Hudson!” Elliott exclaimed, throwing her arms up in the air.
“Great game!” I grabbed her up in a hug, keeping my eye on the guy, who had turned away to look down the hall.
“I missed a couple of shots,” she said with a shrug that was more than just a shrug.
“Man, and I was going to get you hot chocolate,” I teased.
“And now?” she asked, blinking those pale green eyes at me with a mix of apprehension and indigence.
“Now, I’m going to get you hot chocolate.” I grinned.
“You were teasing me!”
“Yep.” I hugged her close. “I don’t care how you play as long as you have fun and give it your all. You know that.”
“I know that,” she said. “Can we go to your place?”
“Absolutely,” I said, putting her down. The guy was still looking the other direction but hovering. “You and I have a dinner date to meet there.”
She nodded, her grin identical to Shea’s. “Okay!”
“Did you maybe want to bring your stick?” I asked, surveying her bag.
“Oh!” she face-palmed. “I left it in the locker room.”
“I’ll wait here,” I told her, and she nodded before running back down the hallway to the locker room.
When he moved, I moved faster, putting myself in between him and Elliott.
“Can I help you?” I asked, leaving my arms loose and ready at my side.
“I don’t know,” he strung his words along like a song. “Can you?”
He finally looked up me, flashing pale green eyes I knew all too well.
He was Elliott’s father.
Shea’s abuser.
My core tensed, and I took immediate stock of my surroundings. The hallway was about ten feet wide, so I had enough room to maneuver. There were still kids and adults coming in and out of the locker rooms, so we weren’t completely alone, but I didn’t see any kid-less stragglers, which meant he was probably alone.
“What do you want?” I asked, taking a step backward to block the locker room door.
He snorted, a look of triumph crossing his face.
“Scared?”
“Of you? Never.”
His eyes narrowed. “But you know who I am to her.” He motioned toward the locker room.
“I know who you were,” I corrected. “Now you’re nothing but a genetic match. You need to leave.” I heard Elliott laughing in the locker room, obviously having fallen into another conversation with friends.
“And if I don’t want to?” He stepped forward, glaring up at me.
The guy was big to Shea, no doubt, but everyone was big to Shea. He was absolutely inconsequential to me. Maybe five ten, one-seventy. Maybe.
“It wasn’t a suggestion.” I lifted an eyebrow and peered down at him. Sometimes being six-five was absolutely to my advantage.
“Look, that’s my daughter in there, and if I want to see her, I’m going to see her.” He tried to step forward again, but I didn’t move.
They didn’t jokingly call me a wall in the NHL for nothing.
“You’re not getting near Elliott until her mother says so. And given the fact that you’re a weasel who gets off on hurting people smaller than you, I’d guess she’s never going to say so.” I dropped my voice in volume, but not intensity.
“That’s what she told you, huh? That hurting her got me off?” he scoffed. “I didn’t do anything that she didn’t instigate.” His shoulders shrugged up, revealing a bulge at his belt I recognized all too well.
The fucking asshole brought a gun to the ice rink.
The rink where kids—my kid—was skating.
Physically, I could take the guy, but when guns got involved, it was the collateral damage that was unpredictable, and there were way too many little beating hearts around here for any of that shit.
“I’ve seen her scars,” I said, keeping my cool.
“Crazy bitch charged at me, what was I supposed to do? You know how it goes, bro.” He gave me a smug, one-cornered smile.
“Yeah, I’m not your bro. And I don’t know how it goes, because I’ve never hit a woman. Ever. What I do know is you’re going to turn around and walk the fuck away before I do something that pisses off my agent.” For all I knew, there were already cameras on us.
“That’s my kid!” He stabbed his finger at the door I blocked, where I could still hear the kids laughing.
Yeah, this shit wasn’t going to touch Elliott.
“Not anymore. Hell, not since the moment you put a hand on Shea. That’s not even your last name on the back of her jersey.” My jaw flexed, my muscles tight as the anger coiled.
“I’ll get a lawyer.” He bluffed. This guy wanted jack and shit to do with law enforcement. I would have bet a million bucks that he didn’t have a permit for that gun.
“I’ll hire better ones. Trust me.”
“I have every right to take her with me right now.”
Oh. Fuck. No.
“That’s. Not. Happening.” The sounds of laughter grew fainter, and I knew Elliott would be coming back out of the locker room soon.
He got up on his toes and leaned into me, nudging the bulge of his gun into my hip. “You have no idea who the fuck you’re dealing with. Who I run with.”
I stayed exactly where I was, blocking him from getting to Elliott. No amount of goading my temper was going to move me.
“I’m paid millions a year to go against guys way bigger than you, and trust me, I win every time. You don’t scare me, you’re done scaring Shea, and you’ll never scare Elliott. Now get the fuck out of here before I forget social niceties. You wouldn’t be the first abuser I’ve spent the night in jail for beating the shit out of.”
Something in my eyes must have clued him in that I meant it, because he backed up.
“This isn’t over.” He pointed his finger at me and left, walking down the hallway as the locker room door hit me in the back.
He was one of those douchebags who demanded the last word.
“Oof,” Elliott muttered.
I moved away from the door, watching the asshole retreat, making sure he actually left the rink.
“Sorry, Tammy was in there, and she was showing me this really funny YouTube video. I got distracted.” Elliott looked up at me, her red hair delightfully puffy from her helmet, and let my hand rest at the back of her head for a second.
“No problem,” I told her, my chest easing up when I saw him depart thought the rink doors. “Wait right here, okay?”
I waited until she nodded, then walked ten feet down the hall and grabbed her gear bag.
“Let’s take a shortcut. I parked out the side entrance.”
“Okay!”
She started to give me the replay-commentary of the game, and I nodded when appropriate as I took her out the side door, keeping all of my senses on alert.
I’d been honest with the asshole. I wasn’t scared of him. But I wasn’t taking any chances with Elliott, either.
I got her and her gear into the G-Wagon, and shut the doors, making sure they were locked.
“Hey,” I asked, keeping my voice level as we pulled out of the parking lot of the small rink.
“Yeah?” she asked between gulps of a bright blue Gatorade that was no doubt going to leave her looking like she’d kissed a Smurf.
“That guy who talked to you outside the locker room. What did he want?”
“Oh, him? He wanted to know if my mom was here. He said something about being the team dad? I guess we’re supposed to sign up for snack.” She went back to guzzling her drink.
“That’s all? I’ll make sure we’re on the list, no worries.”
Because she trusted me, she nodded and launched right back into her post-game dissection.
And because she trusted me, that guy was never getting close to her again.
* * *
“You okay?” Shea asked as she came out onto the deck, barefoot and wearing pajama pants and a tank top. “You seemed really distracted during dinner.”
I adjusted my seat in the hot tub, using the jet to work a knot out of my lower back.
“Elliott asleep?” I asked.
She nodded, rolling her pants up to her knees. “If not she’s the best faker in the world. That game must have zonked her. She climbed up the wooden steps to the massive tub and then sat on the edge, swinging one foot over and then the next.
“I bought you a few swimsuits if you want one,” I told her. “They’re in the closet in the guest room.”
“I’m okay,” she said, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees. “What’s going on?”
“Elliott’s eyes. She got them from her father, right?”
Shea’s eyebrows rose. “Um. Yeah. They’re pretty much identical, honestly.”
“And that’s the guy who freaked you out after the game.”
She swallowed and looked away, taking a sudden interest in the night skyline of downtown Seattle.
“Shea,” I pled.
“Yeah. That was Todd.” She finally brought her eyes back to mine and sat patiently, knowing she had to tell me in her own good time. “He wanted to scare me, I think. Said he wanted to see Elliott. But if it was really about just seeing Elliott, then he would have called my work or found my email. He went to that game because he knows we’re together. He knew we’d be there, and then he knew when I left the others to go to the restroom. He waited.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I tried to keep my voice down, but emotion took the volume up.
“Because it’s not something you have to worry about,” she said. “It’s my past. My issue. I’m strong enough to deal with him now, and I will.” She raked her hands over her face. “I mean, he doesn’t actually want her. He’s just trying to stir me up. He’s probably already back in California, having gotten his kicks for that weekend.” She bit her lower lip for a second. “I mean, I hope he is.”
“He showed up at Elliott’s game today.”
Her head jerked up, every muscle in her body going rigid. “What? Are you sure? Why are you just now telling me?” Her voice pitched to a nearly hysterical level.
“Because I didn’t want Elliott to see you do that,” I said calmly.
She stood, one of her pant legs falling far enough to dip into the water. “You should have told me immediately!”
I saw the panic in her eyes, the feral curve of her fingers like she was ready to rip him into shreds.
“Shea, I didn’t want Elliott to hear. She didn’t know who he was, and if I told you during dinner, then I would have been making
a choice for you. We haven’t exactly had a second alone since you got home.”
Home. I’d gotten so used to saying it over the last few weeks, even though I knew she didn’t feel the same.
“He spoke to her?” she seethed.
I kept my arms balanced on the edge of the tub, refusing to show any sign of stress or anger.
“Outside the locker room, right after she came out. Told her that he was the team dad and asked if you were there, if you’d signed up for snacks.”
Her eyes blazed pure fire.
“He. Got. Near. Her?” Each word was low and filled with malice.
“Yeah, okay, now it’s my turn. See, here’s the thing,” I let my words bite a little. “Had you told me that’s who that guy was? Had you shared with me that he was in town, or that his name was even Todd, I would have been prepared. I would have been right there, hovering outside the door. Hell, I would have hired security!”
“I don’t want—”
“My turn,” I repeated, raising my brows, but leaving my hands right where she could see them. Above everything else, I needed her to understand that we could have a tense discussion, a disagreement, hell, a full-out fight, and I’d never move to put her in danger.
She sat still on the other side of the hot tub.
“Had you trusted me, I could have prevented it. I could have helped you. Protected Elliott. You can be angry with me if you need to be. I’ll take it. But you cannot leave me blind and then get angry when I can’t tell there’s even a trap.”
The anger faded from her face, leaving shame and a little fear.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m just…” She wrapped her arms around her middle.
“Worried? Scared?”
Her head snapped up again. “He doesn’t scare me!”
“Okay,” I said gently. “Baby, you’re freezing, why don’t we go inside and figure this out.”
She shook her head. “Elliott might hear. You’re right. I don’t want her to know a single thing about this.”
“I’m pretty sure if we haven’t woken her up when you’re screaming my name as you orgasm, we’re not going to wake her up by talking.”
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