“He hit me!” Atkins cradled his cheek. “You saw it!”
Gage’s forehead puckered. “I didn’t see shit.”
“I saw you trip into that table,” Rory added.
“Pretty hard fall you took there. You okay?” Noble asked.
Atkins looked at them all and then back to me. “I’ll pull footage from the—” he pointed to the corners of the room.
Where the security cameras hadn’t been reinstalled from the renovation.
“You might want to ice that,” Gage suggested. “Seeing as we have a game tomorrow.”
Atkins scoffed, then shook his head and walked away.
Gentry and Connor moved so he could join his teammates as they exited the room.
“I’m sorry,” I said to Gage, knowing what could have happened, how far I could have taken it. What I could have cost the team.
“Don’t worry. I’ve been itching do that for the last six years.” He clapped me on the back, and after the table had been righted, everyone turned back to it, the volume of chatter turned back to high.
I pivoted to see Shea standing where I’d left her.
A few steps and I closed the distance between us. “Baby,” I said gently, raising my hand to brush back her hair.
She flinched.
She. Fucking. Flinched.
The fear in her eyes was quickly replaced by a deep, terrifying, seething rage.
I had fucked up in a way I wasn’t sure I could recover from.
Chapter 18
Shea
It took all the effort in the world not to slam the door behind me as we walked into Hudson’s penthouse. We’d already agreed to a sleepover before the dinner, but after what happened I’d wanted nothing more than to go home. To get some distance. But Elliott was asleep on the couch, and I wasn’t about to wake her up to take her home.
Hudson paid Faith, despite her protests, then lifted and cradled Elliott to his chest, the sight so contradictory to what I’d seen only an hour before. The way he carried her, like she was this precious, breakable thing, nearly melted the ice-cold steel over my heart. Elliott, in her sleep, looked so much younger. The sass and strength she normally radiated while awake was lost to soft lines and easy breaths in sleep.
Faith, sensing something was off, quickly excused herself. I asked Thing 2 to walk her to her car, and they left down the elevator.
Hudson carried Elliott to what had quickly become her room and softly shut the door.
I walked up to what had become ours.
“She’s out cold,” he said, a slight tick to his tone as he came into his bedroom.
I took off my earrings and sat them in the small glass bowl on the sink in his bathroom.
He leaned against the opened door, his suit jacket off and tossed on the bed. The top three buttons on his white dress shirt had burst or been ripped off during the scuffle with Atkins. His hair was slightly unkempt, his knuckles red. A few split.
“Come here,” I said, no room for argument in my tone.
He came.
“Sit.” I eyed the closed toilet lid, and he sank on top of it.
After rifling through one of his drawers, I found an identical kit to the one he’d used to take care of me when he’d been hurt. And even though my blood still boiled from what had happened…I couldn’t not take care of him.
Taking one massive hand in mine, I swiped a cool alcohol wipe over the small splits in his skin.
He hissed, and I flashed my eyes up to him.
There was no pain there.
Only a silent plea.
I ignored it, knowing if I opened my mouth I’d say things I’d regret.
“Shea,” he said as I worked on his other hand. “You need to understand—”
“What?” I snapped, the lead in that I needed to understand tearing down the filter I’d placed over my mouth. “Understand that you let a worthless man get under your skin?”
A muscle in his jaw ticked.
But still, I went on.
“That you let words…simply words lead you to that sort of violence?”
I slapped the bandages over his now cleaned cuts and took a few steps back from him.
“You’re still angry with me?” He narrowed his gaze, looking up from his seated position.
Funny, that position usually would be enough to melt me. I knew what it was like to ride this giant of a man, to be in control of such a powerful force. It was addicting. And I loved him, but God, seeing him tonight…how easy it was for him to lose that control…
“I’ve spent a decade outrunning the violence from my past,” I said. “A decade, Hudson.”
“I know.”
“Do you? Do you know what it’s like for me? To hear bone crunch. To hear flesh smack against flesh with the air being knocked from lungs? Do you know what it was like to get hit by that bastard who was trying to hurt Melissa? Do you know what it brought back for me?” My fingers trembled at my sides. “Years of abuse. Years of learning tells—facial and body cues—so I wouldn’t get hit. So I wouldn’t have to endure the pain of healing after the assault. Until finally, miraculously, I found the nerve to run. To free Elliott and me from that kind of life.”
“I understand that,” he said. “And believe me, I wish I could track the asshole down and deliver some pain of my own. Make him pay for what—”
“That,” I said, cutting him off. “That is what I’m talking about.”
He titled his head.
“I don’t want you to do that. I hate violence, especially when it’s unnecessary. Your job is one thing—you’re more protecting your teammates than anything. But this? Tonight?” I shook my head. “You shouldn’t have blown up. So what if your ex mouthed off? So what if that jerk said something about me? He’s an asshole. A stupid one. You should’ve held it together better.” I sighed. “I can’t have Elliott around that kind of uncontrollable violence. I’ve spent too long protecting her from—”
He stood up, fast and towering. “I’d never hurt Elliott.” His words were sharper than I’d ever heard. “I’d never hurt you.” He glared down at me. “I thought you were smarter than that.” His words snapped my head back.
“Excuse me?”
“You should be smarter, Shea. I would die before I hurt you or Elliott. Just because Atkins got under my skin doesn’t mean I’m some feral beast that will attack you.”
“I don’t think—”
“Don’t you?” He stood so damn still, but his eyes were on fire. Not the kind I was used to—filled with desire and hunger—but pain and anger and disappointment.
In me.
“I don’t!” I snapped. “I didn’t mean—”
“Then what the hell do you mean, Shea? Because from where I’m standing it seems like you’re afraid of me!”
I flinched from the tenor of his voice.
My gentle giant had never been so…ferocious. At least not off the ice.
Tears welled in my eyes, but I didn’t let them fall.
The one fear he’d always had was me leaving him because his darkness scared me.
And wasn’t I afraid of the same damn thing? Of him seeing all of my past, the ugly scars that made me overprotective and damn near paranoid in certain situations? Afraid of him seeing all that and leaving.
Leaving when things got tough.
Because that’s what I saw men and women do countless times in my profession. Partners abandoning each other because shit got too tough.
“Your silence says enough,” he said before I got a chance to gather my words.
To explain why tonight had triggered every protective instinct I’d ever had.
To explain that it wasn’t him, it was me, and I didn’t know how to function after being shocked and exposed to him in that kind of situation.
“Hudson, I—”
He stopped in the doorway, his back to me. Those muscles clenched tight.
“I’m going to sleep at Lukas’s,” he said, grabbing his jacket off the bed.
“I won’t force you to sleep with that fear, no matter how unfounded it is. Lock the door behind me,” he added, like an afterthought, as he stomped through the living room toward the door.
“Hudson, wait!” I called after him, but he’d already shut the door behind him.
I stood there, staring at it, my mouth open with silent words I couldn’t force out.
The tears I’d held back slowly slipped down my cheeks as I did what he’d said—locked the door—before turning around and resting my back against it.
I slid down it a few moments later, my head spinning.
The night’s events replaying over and over in my head.
Hudson’s wrath at Atkins.
The sound of fist against flesh.
The table crunching under the weight of the two men.
Was it any different than when they had their uniforms on?
Any different with skates laced up?
Hudson had history with Atkins. Twisted and mangled history that created wounds that never really healed.
I understood that much from seeing Todd.
And honestly, if it’d come down to it and Todd had threatened Elliott? Threatened to take her away or hurt her?
I wouldn’t have thought first. I would’ve reacted on instinct. Clawed his eyes out if I had to.
Fuck me. I’d done it again. God damn, why couldn’t I just be normal?
I’d let every fear and scar from my past trigger this fight with Hudson.
Again.
I’d lashed out because of my own insecurities.
Again.
And now Hudson…he’d left.
Left his own penthouse because he couldn’t stand to be in the same building with me for another second.
I’d done what I’d feared most.
Driven him away.
* * *
“Why is being up this early a thing?” Elliott whined as we walked toward my car parked in the garage of Hudson’s building.
I had barely slept, my small frame doing nothing to fill the massive bed of Hudson’s. So cold and empty without him in it.
“We need to get home,” I said, digging for my keys at the bottom of my purse. We’d snuck out before Thing 1 and Thing 2 had arrived for their morning shift. I’d wanted to be alone. To get to my home and figure out how to fix the mess I’d made—because I was so done with battling my past. Hudson deserved better, deserved me free of the fear, and I was ready to tell him, show him, I trusted him completely and would do my best to think first and react later.
“Ugh,” she said, going so far to stamp her foot. “Why was Hudson gone? He should’ve made us breakfast before bolting to practice.”
Practice.
He had a morning skate before the game alter, but not this early.
I’d never lied to Elliott, but I didn’t correct her assumption when I’d woken her before the sun rose and she’d leaped to that conclusion when he wasn’t there, too.
Truth was, I didn’t want to be there when he came back.
If he came back.
Because it had been agony last night, waiting, listening, hoping he’d come back to me.
My cell in my hand, I’d almost called or texted a dozen times, but I didn’t want to step on him when he’d so clearly needed space.
I didn’t want to give him further reasoning to push me away.
I would call him later this afternoon.
Three-ten.
I’d call him at exactly three-ten and explain myself before his game.
Explain how wrong I was.
Tell him it was the fear of my past twisting my present—
Elliott screamed, the sound echoing off the concrete walls for a split second before the sound was muffled.
I spun on my heels, my eyes widening as my own worst nightmare played out before my eyes.
Todd’s arm around a struggling Elliott.
His hand clamped over her mouth.
“Now, Shea, listen to me—”
I flew at him, nails out, teeth bared, my phone flying from my hand to skitter across the concrete.
Saw nothing but red as I prepared to rip his throat out for touching my daughter.
Elliott’s eyes bulged as she focused on something behind me.
And before I could blink…before I could turn around…an explosion of pain blistered the back of my head.
My legs became heavy, disconnected from my body, as my knees hit the concrete.
And everything went black.
Chapter 19
Hudson
The final buzzer sounded.
Three to one, we’d beaten Ontario.
The goal they’d gotten had happened because I’d been distracted, looking for Shea in the family box.
She hadn’t been there.
She didn’t show.
But she’d promised.
She’d left me.
I shoved the hurt aside and made it through the post-game. Shower. Coach’s talk. Skipped the media. Threatened with fines for skipping the media...the rest of it was routine.
I was simply numb to it all.
“You okay?” Lukas asked as we walked to our cars.
“Yeah.” I nodded my head. “No.” I shook it. “Fuck, I don’t know.”
“My house is yours,” he offered.
“Thanks, man,” I responded, climbing up into my Mercedes.
I started the ignition, and then sat there, my hands braced on the steering wheel.
I had two options.
The first was to continue the silence I’d begun last night—to let her go. I’d only meant to give her space and safety. Elliott had already been asleep. My penthouse was safer than her apartment, anyway. And when she’d brought up how the fight had affected her, I’d known she’d never sleep soundly next to me. Not when she’d fallen back into her fear.
So I could give her the space. Feed the silence. Let her decide if she was ready to move on from her past. Let her decide if I was her future.
The second option? Fight like hell for her. Make her understand that she was the last person who should be scared of me. Apologize like hell for letting my temper fuck things up last night, and then beg until she listened. Use every weapon in my arsenal to make her see that she was my forever, that I’d never loved a woman the way I loved her. I’d never love another woman. Only Shea.
Yeah, I liked option two.
As I pulled out of the parking lot, the drawing Elliott had left me on my passenger seat drifted toward the armrest.
“Beat Ontario!” it said, showing two helmets clashing.
I’d found it on our way to dinner last night, and it had made me smile ever since.
My gut twisted. Even if Shea was pissed at me, there was no way she’d keep Elliott from the game. She wasn’t a coward. She would have shown up because she’d given her word.
I hit the button on my steering wheel that connected my phone and ordered the voice recognition to call Shea.
It rang once. Twice. Three times. Four times.
“Hi, you’ve reached my voicemail—”
I hung up. She always had that thing on, always worried an emergency would crop up at work. And if she hadn’t wanted to deal with me, she would have sent me to voicemail after two rings, not let me hang on for four.
Something was wrong.
My foot hit the floor, sending the Mercedes zigging through traffic. My stomach knotted as I called Paulson.
“Sir, how is your morning with the girls?” he answered.
“Funny, I was calling to ask you the same thing,” I snapped. “They’re not with you?’
“No, sir. There was a note left on the entry table that she’d gone to the rink with you.”
Fuck.
“Pull the security footage from the elevator. I’m pulling into the garage right now.” I hung up the phone and swung the Mercedes through the gate and into my private lot.
My other cars were here, but Shea’s was missing.
I parked the Mercedes and
jumped out.
“Don’t assume the worst,” I reminded myself over and over as I raced to the elevator. The garage lighting reflected off something near the door, and I stopped dead in my tracks.
I took a deep breath and picked up Shea’s phone.
The case was cracked, the screen shattered.
“Damn it!” I shouted, punching the elevator button. I called Lukas on my way up and told him to haul ass over here.
“Did you pull the footage?” I barked at the guards as the doors opened in the penthouse.
“Yes, sir.”
I walked over to the small room just off the entry that held all the security monitors.
There they were…
“Fuck!” I shouted, watching Todd grab Elliott. My heart seized when Shea fell into the footage, an object striking her in the head. “Call the cops,” I ordered them.
“Kidnapping is more the FBI,” Paulson said.
“I don’t give a shit what badge it is. Get someone here now.”
While they contacted law enforcement, Lukas showed up, flanked by Connor and Noble. Gentry arrived a few minutes later. Lukas had called in the moral-support cavalry.
Paulson filled them in while I paced the length of the penthouse.
What had they done to her? What were they doing to her right now? To them? What did he want with her? Did she have a concussion? Had they hurt Elliott?
God, where were they?
The tracker.
I swiped open Shea’s phone, and was met with her password screen. I quickly input Elliott’s birthday and the phone opened. The battery flashed red.
Scrolling through her apps, I found the tracker and opened it. I was most definitely not patient while I waited for it to open.
“Suits are on the way up,” Paulson told me.
I nodded, all of my concentration on the spinning circle.
The app opened, and I immediately hit “listen in.”
A few seconds later, a rustling noise came through the phone. Then light breathing.
“Mom?” Elliott’s voice nearly brought me to my knees. “Please wake up.”
Shea was still unconscious.
I heard more movement, then a scraping sound, like she was brushing up against something.
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