“Well, that’s a first. Why do you think I left you? The constant griping. ‘I’ll never get my shoulder back,’ or ‘can you please change the baby, I only have one arm.’ Your incessant whining was what drove us apart. You were so lost in yourself that you completely ignored our relationship.”
I blinked. “Wow. Well, thanks for enlightening me. I figured you left me because my contract wasn’t a given and Adkins’ was. My bad.”
Her jaw dropped. “You’re an asshole!” she shouted.
“Well aware,” I replied.
Lettie’s tiny hand took mine. Shit. What had she heard?
“I’ve decided that I don’t like you,” Lettie said to Helen, her voice curious, but even. “You’re mean, and Bailey says I have to be nice to mean people because they need it the most, but I don’t like you. You’re not my friend. You’re not my daddy’s friend or my Bailey’s friend, so you shouldn’t be at my party. You make people sad.”
Helen stared at our daughter, paling. “But...don’t you want to get to know me?”
Lettie looked at her long and hard. “You left...and your face doesn’t move when you talk. That’s enough. But thank you for coming to my party.” She annunciated every word as clearly as possible, with a great deal of thought.
And she remembered her manners. Hot damn.
Her little hand squeezed mine tightly, and when I offered my arms, she took them. I lifted her against my chest.
“You’re just like your daddy,” Helen said, sadness radiating from her eyes.
“He’s a badass,” Lettie said with a nod.
I didn’t bother correcting her.
Helen’s face became tight and she forced a smile. “Well, it was nice to see you again, Scarlett. Happy birthday.”
“Thank you,” she tucked her head into my neck and I leaned my head against hers.
Helen pursed her lips, but turned on her heel and left.
Just like that, and I could breathe, could finally take in my first lungful of untainted air since she’d told me she was pregnant. I wasn’t tied to her, and Lettie was free...and mine. Only mine.
“My Bailey!” Lettie said and raced over to see where Bailey was face painting.
Maybe she was Bailey’s too, but that was okay. I liked sharing with Bailey.
My feeling of euphoria lasted through the party, despite the mess of my back yard. I had my daughter free and clear, I had Bailey in my life and my bed, and my starting spot back. Even my hand wasn’t as bad as I’d originally thought yesterday.
“Gage?” Mom called out. “We ran out of ketchup for the burgers. Would you mind grabbing some out of the fridge?”
“Not at all,” I said, kissing her cheek.
“What was that for?” She asked.
“For taking care of me when I needed it most,” I answered. I made my way up the stairs, and into the house, where I saw the manilla folder on the dining room table sitting next to a magic marker.
There it was, my freedom.
I picked it up, but the envelope was lighter than it should have been. Panic bloomed in my chest as I turned the envelope over to see two words in dark black magic marker.
“Fuck you.”
The envelope was empty.
She’d taken the papers with her.
Damn it.
Bailey
Chapter 12
The stadium was packed, and despite it being a home game, there was way more red and white jerseys than I liked.
Lettie sat on my lap, twirling a lock of my hair around her tiny finger as her eyes stayed anxiously glued to her daddy on the ice. She didn’t realize how this was the game of the season we’d all been dreading but from the quiet that had settled over her, I knew she could feel the tension.
My muscles were in knots—they had been since Helen had walked in on Lettie’s birthday party with that asshole Adkins. God, I thought Gage would’ve annihilated him if he’d ever set foot on his property, but he’d shocked the hell out of me by showing incredible restraint.
He had done a lot of that lately, shocking me. First, by the number of orgasms he could hand out like candy. Second, the mere fact that he’d crossed that line between us anyway, and lastly, the way he’d reacted to the situation afterward.
I wished that moment of panic hadn’t set in—where the cold fear painted images of him tossing me to the curb since he’d finally gotten a taste of what he’d never had before. The fear of being left with a life without Lettie…without him, shook me to the core.
I knew Gage better than that, of course. We’d been friends for too long and we’d connected on a deeper level…several times that night, for him to do that to me. Perhaps it was because I’d had a front row seat to the bunny parade, but when I’d woken up alone in his bed, and sat there wondering how many others had gone before me…I couldn’t keep the evil thoughts at bay.
Smack! A rogue shot hit the boards in front of us, successfully drawing me back to the present. Lettie flinched in my arms but nothing compared to the jump I’d had. This game—knowing that it was Adkins out there against Gage—had me on edge and I felt like a coiled spring ready to pop.
Gage shredded the ice, checking a player against the boards so hard he dropped his stick, giving Rory the opening to take aim at the goalie.
Normally I wouldn’t have so much as looked at the other players, but today I couldn’t keep my eyes off number seventeen on the opposing team—Adkins. The blood flushing my skin boiled every time he skated within an inch of Gage—the image of the day he’d been injured flashing on repeat in my mind like a bad replay on ESPN. I’d been there, home for Thanksgiving, holding Lettie’s tiny hand while I sat Gage’s mom, watching in horror as they’d carried him off the ice. Add to that the recovery, the hurt both physically and emotionally he’d had to deal with during that time, and I was ready to pass Lettie off to Grammy who sat next to us, breach the ice, and shove Adkins’ stick up his ass for all the wrong he’d done.
Instead, I took deep, steadying breaths. Adkins had played nice this entire game, and Gage didn’t need me to fight his battles for him, but, by his own admission, he did need me. And that had made me happier than I knew was possible.
Rory controlled the puck again, gliding on the ice quick as lightning, and shot. The puck flew past the goalie and sunk into the net behind him, bringing the Sharks in the lead 2-1.
“Whoohoo! Uncle Rory!” Lettie clapped, grinning from ear to ear as she looked from the ice and back to me. I rubbed her back, cheering with her until the smile slipped from her face.
“Lettie, baby what’s wrong?” I asked, following her gaze behind me.
Bitch. Now my nerves sizzled. “Helen,” I whispered as I set eyes on the undeniably gorgeous blonde. She was taking the benches one at a time, navigating to the Shark-dominated side to get to us. Her progression was slow, due to the ridiculous stilettos she wore that made my French-Maid costume ones look like kitten heels. The thought took me back to the near-lethal birthday present she’d tried to give Lettie, and I found myself kissing Lettie’s forehead without thinking.
“How about you show Grammy where we get the hot chocolate?” I asked her, looking at Sue who had zeroed in on Helen as well. Lettie nodded quickly, hugging my neck before grabbing Grammy’s hand and tugging her toward the concessions outside of the rink.
I clutched my hands into fists and kept my eyes on the ice, forcing myself to breathe.
“You didn’t have to send her running, Bailey.” Helen’s voice was a razor on an exposed nerve.
I cut my eyes away from Gage, skating ahead of an opponent to gain the upper position. “Shouldn’t you be on the other side?” I pointed to the sea of white and red. “Supporting your husband?”
She sank down beside me, her heels clicking against the metal. “I can see him just fine from here.”
“What do you want, Helen?” I had no time to play games with this woman. The same woman who had somehow walked away from the only man I’d ever loved and simultaneousl
y abandoned the most incredible little girl I’d ever met.
“Meow. I haven’t been here two seconds and you’re already catty?”
“You must bring it out in people.”
She shook her head, flipping her silky blonde hair over her shoulder.
“You’re right.” I sighed, rethinking my actions. If not for this woman, Lettie would not exist. I would try and remember that every time she opened her gold-digging mouth. “Are you here to return the papers you took from Gage? Because that would be really big of you, and I’d be more than happy to sing your graces to him after we kick the shit out of Ontario.”
She sucked her teeth and snorted out a laugh. “Oh, Bailey, I’m sure there are plenty of things you’d be happy to do to Gage after the game.”
Heat flushed my cheeks and I sharpened my gaze on where Adkins skated just a little too close to Gage for my comfort. I could be the better woman here. I didn’t need to get nasty, or insecure. Be the better woman.
“Not that I blame you. I mean, I’ve been there…or rather, he’s been here.”
I glanced at her where she held her hand against her chest and resisted the urge to roll my eyes. She knew nothing of love. Gage had never been a part of her heart, and Lettie damn sure wasn’t either.
“Of course, I managed to earn his attention much faster than you did. I mean, honestly, what did it take…twenty years for him to see you as anything other than an annoying little girl? A sexless friend?”
I swallowed hard, my breath hitching as Gage got entangled against the boards with another player.
“Same old Gage. He lives for that tight pressure against the boards. You know, if I remember correctly, that’s how we got Scarlett.”
Bile rose in the back of my throat—not at the image she painted, though that soured my stomach for sure—but at her use of the word we. “Funny, I don’t remember Scarlett ever truly belonging to you.”
“I’m her mother.” She scoffed.
“What’s her favorite movie?” I held her gaze, challenging her.
“Frozen?”
I shook my head. “You’re only her mother in name. You have no clue who she is, what makes her laugh, cry, sing, or settle down. You didn’t even know that cat you brought could have killed her. Come on, Helen. Admit it. You didn’t want her then, and you don’t want her now. You’re only doing this because you get some sort of sick pleasure torturing Gage.”
“You’ll never replace me.”
Despite knowing that, her words still stung every inch of my skin.
I knew I’d never be Lettie’s mother, never be the one who had felt her move and grow inside me…but she’d grown in my heart until we were so connected I could sense when her moods shifted, when her thoughts drifted to the darkness of her mother’s abandonment, when she worried about her daddy, and when she cried out of anger instead of sadness.
“No. I won’t. But you’ll never know your daughter like I do.”
Helen flinched as if I’d smacked her. The emotion quickly passed, instantly replaced with the venom I was more accustomed to. “You’re pathetic, Bailey. Why don’t you go get a family of your own, instead of trying to steal mine?”
And the gloves come off.
“Hard to steal what you left abandoned and alone.” My fingers trembled from the rising adrenaline pumping in my blood. The boys on the ice raced against the ticking clock, trying desperately to get another goal in before the next period, and the more Helen spoke, the more I wanted to throat punch her.
“Keep telling yourself that,” she said. “Keep assuring yourself you belong with them. But realize, whenever you look at her, you’ll see me. She’s got my lips. My ears. And she without a doubt has my smile. She’ll never be yours. No matter what you do.”
Tears filled the backs of my eyes, making the players scrambling on the ice become shiny around the edges. I sucked in a sharp breath, steeling myself against her words.
“Exactly,” she said, standing up with her hand clutched around her purse. “Like I said, pathetic. I just pray it doesn’t rub off on Scarlett, but seeing her reaction to me yesterday at her party…I fear it may already have.”
That’s it, bitch. One second I was sitting, the next I was a centimeter from her face, the fans behind us yelling for us to sit down. “Say whatever you want about me but don’t you dare utter one negative thing about Lettie or I will make sure you never do again.”
She arched a perfectly tweezed eyebrow at me. “Really, nanny? What are you going to do?”
“I—“
The crowd collectively gasped around us almost in synchronization with a loud crunch and smack against the board nearest us, the sound killing my words. My heart lurched and my stomach dropped. I hadn’t seen it but I’d fucking felt it.
“Gage,” I whispered, my feet moving before my mind caught up. I hit the floor, my Chucks squeaking on the ground as I rushed to the glass, looking down through the partition.
Adkins was on top of Gage on the ice. Before I could blink Warren hurled him in the opposite direction. The ref’s whistles blew in the distance, barely heard over the all out brawl which broke out a few feet away from where Gage remained, flattened on the ice, his face turned up in sheer agony.
I pressed my hands against the partition, my heart stalling as he moved to grip his shoulder when the paramedics hefted him to cart him off the ice. Fuck!
I glanced at the stadium before bolting out the doors, racing toward the locker room entrance. I made it there in a blink, jerking on the locked double doors. A water boy opened one of them a crack.
“I need to see him!” I said, barely able to catch my breath.
“You’re not allowed back here.” The kid wasn’t more than seventeen and I pressed my lips together, thankful beyond belief that Lettie was with Gage’s mom and didn’t have to see this.
“Forgive me,” I said, shoving past him and stomping into the locker room. Sweat and musk assaulted my senses, the temperature at least ten degrees warmer in here than it had been in the rink. My heart raced as I made my way to the back.
“Gage,” I said, gasping a full breath when I finally set eyes on him stretched out on a table, three men surrounding him.
“Ma’am you’ll have to wait outside,” Mr. Denning, the Shark’s physical therapist said as I approached Gage’s free side.
“I told her that!” The waterboy shouted behind me from where I’d left him near the door.
“She’s fine, Carl,” Gage said to Denning, the strained tone of his voice not lost on my ears. He winced as one of the men poked and tugged on his arm.
I remained silent but took his free hand. They had him shirtless, and while he was glorious to look at, I could only see the pain on his face. The way his eyes clenched as each man took their turn at trying to rotate his arm, or pushed against his shoulder blade with their knuckles.
“Did she see?” He asked through gritted teeth.
“No.” I shook my head and squeezed his hand. “She’s with your mother, getting spoiled with treats I’m sure.”
“Good.” He leaned his head back against the table as they laid him down, working over him and muttering things in hushed tones I couldn’t make out.
The skin around the scars from his surgery was already turning from angry-red to depressing-purple and the rage I’d had while speaking with Helen amplified to an all-time high. I trembled, the tears I’d felt evaporating from the heat of adrenaline and the desire to murder Adkins with my bare hands.
Another part of me calculated the odds of Gage recovering fully from another surgery, how long he would be benched, and if he’d keep his spot this time. I wondered how to help him heal properly, and what it would mean if he never got to play again. The worry consumed me as I watched him lay there, flinching and wincing, all the while trying to conceal the pain from the people inspecting him.
He couldn’t hide it from me though, or the fear that coated his eyes, his thoughts no doubt pouring over exactly what I had been.
Please don’t let it be torn again.
Denning gently helped Gage to a sitting position. “Your rotator cuff took another bad hit, but it’s not ripped or shattered. My guess is bruised. We should get you to the hospital and do an x-ray to be certain. I don’t want to take any chances with you. Not after the last time.”
I breathed out a sigh of relief. If it wasn’t torn or broken we could recover from it. Quickly.
“You saying I can’t go finish this game?” Gage asked, a smirk on his pained face.
Denning shook his head, motioning toward the other two men, who quickly shuffled out of the room. “That’s exactly what I’m saying, McPherson.”
“How long?” Gage asked.
“Not sure yet. Have to see what comes back on the x-rays. Optimistically? You’ll only be out a game.”
“And worst case?” Gage’s voice had crystallized with ice.
A shadow crossed over Denning’s eyes and the floor tilted beneath me.
“Let’s not think about that until we know what’s going on in there.” Denning pointed toward the door. “I’m going to relay to coach and then I’ll ride over in the ambulance with you.”
Gage nodded, sweat dripping off his scrunched forehead as Denning left the room.
I let go of him and grabbed a fresh towel from the counter across the room, soaking it in cold water from the sink before returning to his side. I dabbed at his forehead before sliding the cool cloth over the back of his neck, trying my best not to look at the purple dusting over the back of his shoulder.
“It was a clean hit,” Gage said after a few moments of silence.
“I didn’t see. I was…”
“What?”
“It’s not important.” I sighed, thinking about Helen was the last thing he needed right now. “You mean to say this hit wasn’t intentional?”
He shook his head and hissed. “Intentional, sure. But not dirty. Still love to beat his ass, though.”
“Me too.” I chuckled softly, slipping the cloth along his spine. “Don’t worry, Gage. Everything will be fine. It doesn’t even look that bad.” I swallowed the lie that tasted bitter in my mouth.
Enforcer (Seattle Sharks Book 2) Page 30
