by Stacey Lynn
“Sounds good. Thanks. And I swear, when we find that dick…”
“I know.” Sawyer figured out weeks ago the ex-fiancé is in Nova Scotia, but since then, nothing. When we finally do find him, the team will line up behind Sawyer to get their shots in. We’re family. Which means Tessa is family. Which means Will’s a dead man.
Now my only worry is Sawyer going to jail for murder as soon as he’s found.
We need him on defense. The regular season starts Monday.
I grab my bag and throw it over my shoulder. Gripping his shoulder, I give him a few quick shoves. “Be there for Tessa. She needs you. We’ll talk later.”
“Right.” His jaw is tight and I’m surprised nails don’t spit from his eyes with how pissed he looks.
I head out of the training facility and I’m almost to my SUV, phone in hand to call Paisley and keys in another when a woman steps around from the back bumper.
“Hey, Mikah.”
Her voice freezes every cell in my body.
Angela.
I can’t believe she’s here. I can’t believe I ever thought this woman with jet black hair, cut sharply at her shoulders, eyebrows in high arched points above her dark brown eyes and heavily done make-up is ever a woman I thought was beautiful.
She’s too perfect. Too done up. And clearly she enjoyed her Caribbean jaunt because her skin is deeply tanned.
I pull to a stop. Gaze whipping around our parking lot. So help me if there’s someone out there, watching this… or my teammates who are still more pissed at her than I am.
I, after all, have a son from her extreme selfishness.
“What are you doing here?”
“I heard from Luke.”
He said he finally was able to get a hold of her to leave her a message to call him and also informed me she hasn’t done so yet.
“So what are you doing here?”
My body that froze at the sight of her is now on fire. If she was a man, I’d have my arm shoved to her throat and pressed against my vehicle until her face turns purple. Shame for me that I would never hurt a woman like that. The only time I lose my temper is on the ice and only when an opponent deserves it or starts something.
“I’d like to talk to you.”
I step toward her. She might see the way I want to rip her from limb to limb. For the lies. For the way she’s handling this because she moves quickly back on obscenely high heels to get out of my way.
“Anything you have to say to me can be said to Luke.” I throw open my back door and toss my bag in. It bounces off the car seat and for some reason, seeing that seat—Angelo’s seat—rattles me more than her presence.
This is his mom. Someday he might ask questions about her.
I do not want to be the guy who treats her like shit and have to deal with the fallout of that.
Plus, as I’ve often reminded myself, I haven’t exactly done things with Angelo in the most legal manner. Which means if she wants, Angela has ammunition to take him from me.
Like hell it will happen. I’ll fight to the death for him.
I close the door, quieter and more calmly than I feel and turn, facing Angela. Arms crossed over my chest, I grip my keys in my hand so tightly I feel the sting of the jagged edges cut into my palm.
“What do you want?” I might not be a dick to her, but I will not be nice, either.
“Well, how is he?” Her hands are at her hips. Then her sides. She clasps them together in front of her and then she twists them repeatedly.
She is young, only a year or so older than me. Her breasts are large, too big for her frame, and I know from experience not real. She’s wearing pointed black heels and a black skirt that clings to her skin like it’s painted on. And short. Purple rims the bottom of her eyes and it’s the only thing out of place on her, and yet still… I can’t figure out how I spent a weekend with her.
I see nothing attractive about her as I take her in and try to figure out what Angelo has from her. Perhaps her chin that is rounder than mine.
“You care how he is?”
Her round chin trembles and she presses her lips together. “This wasn’t easy for me. It really wasn’t. I’ve meant to call. I should have, but well, I can’t stop thinking about him.”
“You’re not getting him back.” I spit it out so angrily she flinches.
“I’m his mom.”
“You left him. Did you give any thought to what would happen if I was not home? If I did not want him? Did you think of anyone but yourself?”
“I was tired. I don’t have family. Or help. And he sleeps so little and cries so much and I had no help. I thought… I thought when I found out that I was pregnant that maybe, just maybe I’d finally have someone in my life who loves me. And then, it was so hard, and I kept thinking why anyone can’t love me.”
For a brief second, my heart hurts for her. I get her. I get where she’s coming from. But she’s made becoming a mom about her. I’ve been a parent for less time than her, much less considering her pregnancy she had to get used to it, but I know that when it comes to babies, it’s never about you. Everything revolves around them.
“That is the most selfish thing I have ever heard.”
If she thinks I’m going to have compassion for her, she’s dead wrong. She could have made a hundred different decisions if that’s what she wants from me.
“Please,” she says and takes a step toward me, reaching. I toss my hands up, pulling away from her to avoid her touch. “How is he?”
“Healthy and happy. And that’s all you’re getting. You want more, talk to my lawyer.”
“I want to see him.”
“Never.”
She grins then, and I hate everything about the way it twists her face. “I still have my rights, Mikah. I want to see him.”
My hand curls into a fist and my blood races. I have never felt so much rage. She must be kidding.
“Call Luke then.”
She taps her chin with one blood-red painted fingernail. “Or maybe I’ll call your new girlfriend. Or wait… maybe you’re banging the nanny?”
Ew. I at first imagine Viola but then I realize she probably has them confused. Or hasn’t seen Viola. It doesn’t matter. Angela will stay away from both.
I pull in a breath and step toward her. I will defend what’s mine. She’s a fool to think otherwise.
“Leave my girlfriend out of this.”
“Or what?” She laughs and rakes over my skin like a chill. How could none of us on the team have noticed how evil she is? “What will you do to me?”
It’s like she wants to be the first woman I ever hit. “What do you want?”
“Maybe I want us to be a family. I am his mother.”
She’s not. Paisley is. She can’t actually be serious, except her expression says otherwise. Holy crap. Has she always been crazy and hidden it well? And what in the hell do I do?
If I say anything else, it might come back to haunt me. But oh, there is much to say to this woman.
I’m fuming, shaking so hard I can’t remember the last time I’ve been this pissed off.
And scared.
She’s his mom. I know how American courts are. They prefer kids to be with their moms over their dads and it doesn’t even matter if the mom in question is selfish and only thinking of herself in all of it.
“I’ll wait for your call, Mikah. Enjoy your evening.”
I climb into my Land Rover, even still fighting against cringing when I see tears in her eyes. I knew Angela before we spent the weekend together. She was always fun. Up for a party. Never once did I see this side of her.
I don’t like it as much as she deserves to feel this way.
My heart is still racing as I pull onto the streets and has not slowed when I enter my building. I have one thing and one thing only on my mind:
Protect Angelo and figure out a way he can be saved from that woman.
I have Luke on my phone before I enter the elevator, tapping my foot impa
tiently, waiting for him to answer.
“Luke Morgenson,” he says.
I skip the pleasantries. “It’s Mikah. I need to meet with you. Tonight. Can you come to my place?”
“Mikah. What’s this about? I called Angela this morning as you know...”
“She showed up at my practice. Asking about him. She wants to see him. I told her to call you, but I need to talk to you. Come up with a plan.”
“I can schedule a meeting tomorrow morning, but...”
“No. Tonight. It has to be.”
My head is spinning. She could do anything. She could show up at my building. Demand to see him. She could call the cops and say I’ve taken him.
I have no legal claim to him and I’m not yet on his birth certificate. As far as I know, it’s still processing. And it’s possible by not entertaining listening to Angela for too long tonight, I’ve royally pissed her off.
“Please, Luke. I’m worried.” And terrified out of my mind. “Please tonight.”
He sighs, and I imagine the man I’ve met with several times running a hand through his thick, black hair, bumping his glasses as he does it. “Give me an hour. But you’re paying for this.”
“Anything.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Paisley
* * *
It’s late. I know Mikah’s schedule now like the back of my hand.
It’s unlike him not to call to let me know he’s on his way home. It’s more unlike me I don’t hear his door open and close when he does get home.
And never, in the last week especially, has he not returned one of my texts within a decent amount of time. Now, it’s an hour after he said he was going to be home and I’ve already stopped by his place twice only to not hear anything on the other side of his door.
Which concerns me more. I’ve met Viola, the new nanny. She’s as old as my own mom, divorced, yet never had kids and so when she left her husband and his cheating, pathetic ass — her words — she started to nanny so she could spend her time with kids.
Personally, I like the fact she doesn’t look at Mikah with fuck me stamped on her forehead.
Still, it’s strange even she isn’t answering the door. She’s only been there a few days, but I’ve seen her plenty and we’ve talked quite a bit. I like her.
All of this is weird. Is Angelo sick? Did something happen to Mikah at practice? I imagine having a puck flying through the air and skating on ice isn’t always the safest sport in the world.
I’ll give it one more try and if Mikah’s not home, I’ll call him again. Then Viola. I have her number since Mikah named her Angelo’s emergency contact.
My phone rings in my hand, scaring me so badly I toss it in there. It flips through my hands, into the air, and again before I finally manage to catch it before it hits the floor.
I don’t look at the screen, just press my thumb to the slider. “Hello? Mikah?”
“No, you hooker! It’s Pippa. Your friend, remember?” I cringe. She’s laughing and the background wherever she is filled with loud noises. Of course, because it’s Friday. Her laugh tells me she’s not upset, but I still feel that twinge of neglect inside of me. I haven’t seen her in a month and I don’t think we’ve ever gone that long without hanging out.
Between school and Mikah and Angelo, my hours as packed. But I don’t want to be the girl who forgets her friends because some great new guy swoops in.
“Yes, I’m sorry. So sorry. What’s up?”
“Get your sweet cheeks down to Roxbury! Maggie and I are headed there after we leave Duckworth’s Grill and we want to see you.”
My eyes go to my door and I frown. The week has flown by despite being more tired than I’ve been in a long time. Late nights and early mornings with Mikah have me dragging by late afternoon and yet invigorated by evening. I’ve been so lost in wanting to spend as much time with him as possible, I’ve been more focused on my research too which is a bonus.
Even Ms. Felarky was impressed earlier today with Maggie’s and my progress.
“I… I don’t think I can. Mikah and I, we were going to go out.”
Our first official adult, alone, date. Last night we grabbed gyros from a street truck and pushed Mikah in the stroller. The night before we grilled out on the rooftop deck. It was a gorgeous evening, cloudless sky and we stayed there past the sunset, just talking and laughing, and playing with Angelo. It was absolutely beautiful. And easy. And fun.
“Fine. Ignore us for the hottie, but we miss you,” she says, drawing out the second half and laughing at the same time.
She’s beautiful and overdramatic. Gives men boners as she walks by and then drives them insane with her over-the-top personality.
“Maybe tomorrow?”
“Fine, hooker. Tomorrow.” I take no offense to the hooker comment. She says it to everyone she loves.
“Bye, loser.”
I hang up and glance again at my door. I need to figure out what’s going on before I lose my mind.
Grabbing my keys, I lock my door and take the few steps over to Mikah’s. It opens before I even lift my hand to knock so I’m smiling, assuming Mikah saw me coming. Then he becomes a cement brick in front of me. It takes a second to register what I’m seeing as he stands in from me. Unmoving. Eyes glazed. Hair messed. His shirt is wrinkled, and I’m not sure he notices he has spit-up on his shoulder.
I’d tease him for wearing Angelo’s puke if he didn’t look at me like I was a stranger.
“Mikah? Everything okay?”
“No.”
Instead of opening his door for me to enter, he glances back into his apartment and shuts it behind him as he steps toward me into the hall.
“What’s wrong? Is it Angelo?”
I peer at his door over my shoulder. He’s never shut me out. I feel it now, in the closed-off expression on his face and the door he shut behind him. He’s shutting me out of more than his home.
Dread fills my stomach.
“Angelo. Angelo is fine.” He presses his hands to his hips and squeezes his eyes closed. When he opens them again, he looks tortured. “I cannot see you now.”
I stumble back. His words come like a whip, stinging my cheeks. Perhaps that’s the tears already falling. “What? But we had plans.”
In a move I’ve never seen him make before, he pinches the bridge of his nose, dropping his head. I stepped toward him but stop when he lifts his head.
He might as well be on a different floor of the building for as much distance his look puts between us.
“I cannot see you now. Or anymore.”
“Why?” It rips from my throat before I can stop myself. This makes no sense and the floor wobbles at my feet. Just this morning we made love before I left for class. He reminded me Viola is staying late. Which means after we go out, we can spend time at my place before heading to his. We’ve had it all planned for days.
“I can say no more but that it is over. It is for the best. Thank you for your help with Angelo.”
Tears swell and he blurs in front of me. My jaw unhinges and I’m too slow to move because he really does become a blur of movement when he turns quickly, and disappears behind his door, slamming it shut.
I follow him, pound on his door. This is crazy. Unfortunately, I pound a few more times and get no response and I give up.
The noise could be scaring Angelo.
My fist is sore as I slump back to my own place. My heart is hurting worse. Something has happened. Something horribly wrong.
Mikah would never treat me like this. And I will figure out exactly what’s going—
After I get really, really drunk to forget this sensation of feeling like he’s just shredded my heart into unrecognizable pieces.
The Roxbury is not where I want to be but it’s the perfect place to forget the shitstorm I left behind an hour ago. I’ve been morose through dinner and thank goodness for Pippa and Maggie who have done their best to keep my mind off the story I told them. None of it makes sense an
d I keep replaying it in my mind, flashes of him and his expression flicker through as brightly as the strobe lights on the ceiling above.
I usually love the Roxbury, the 80s and 90s club where the music is loud and the drinks are cheap and tonight since it’s still relatively early, even cheaper. Maggie found a coupon on Facebook, so we not only get free cover and get to skip the line, we’re given one free drink when we get inside.
Pippa has her arm looped through mine and pulls me through the quickly crowding dance floor to the back. The second floor is filled with tables as well as a VIP seating area. Even been there before for birthdays in college. It’s where we celebrated Maggie’s because she’s a fiend for 80s music. Odd considering none of us were born before 1997, but whatever. Tonight, she’s left Asher at home and she’s trying to do her best to pull me out of my funk. Which I’ve now explained in full, along with how I originally met Mikah.
It feels like a relief to finally be able to tell my friends everything, and yet at the same time, it’s a dull stab to my chest at having to relive it with how the night has gone.
But I’m determined to push past this. I don’t know what’s gotten into Mikah, but I know how he feels about me, and I know I love him.
Whatever is going on with him, I’ll give him space and then try to talk to him.
We’ll work it out, we have to.
“Drinks!” I shout and throw my hand in the air. First, I need to forget it ever happened. Drink my way into oblivion. Tomorrow, I’ll deal with everything that happened.
“That’s my girl!” Pippa yells and we meet Maggie at the bar who already has three shot glasses lined up.
I roll my eyes at the thick foam on top of the small glasses and arch a brow at her. “Really?”
“You know nothing gets the night started right like a really good blowjob.”
“Hell yeah!” three guys to the left of us cry out, eyes widening but glazed showing this is definitely not their first stop of the night.
I ignore them, pick up my shot, and toss it back. I will take the shot, but not without hands like it’s supposed to be done. Maggie and Pippa follow and then we order another round of drinks. Vodka club soda for Pippa, rum and Coke for Maggie. I grab another shot, tequila this time, and wash it down with a Long Island Iced Tea.