Bruiser (Seattle Sharks 7)

Ivy swung out her arm for Hannah and Elliott, Bailey clasping Lettie’s hand, too, as they bounded up the stairs toward the exit to the hallways. I gave Elliott a be good, I’ll be right there look that she acknowledged but was too excited to be with her friends.

That warmth already growing inside me tripled.

Elliott was more than at home here, and for the first time in such a long time, I started to feel like I belonged, too.

Safe.

This is what it’s like to feel safe. Home.

I spared another glance at Hudson on the ice, who had skated over to the glass, and was waving at Elliott. My heart swelled.

Luckily, I beat the growing crowd, and I was in and out of the restroom in no time. As I skimmed the edge of the tide of departing fans, heading toward the office Ivy had indicated, butterflies flapped in my stomach. Some of their wings dusted with ice.

Because what did I do now?

Sure, I may have realized I’d fallen head over heels for the man, but that didn’t mean he reciprocated. He made jokes about getting married and, yes, he was the one who’d asked to be exclusive…for me to be his and him to be mine…but love? It was all happening so fast, and the last thing I wanted to do was scare—

“Shea.”

I stopped dead.

That voice.

I would hear it over every ounce of chatter echoing off the walls.

I would hear it in a dead sleep or a roaring thunderstorm.

I’d just foolishly hoped I’d never hear it again.

Slowly, almost like I might be in a nightmare, I turned toward the sound.

And there he was.

Todd Stuart.

The biological father of my child.

The sole reason I loathed violence.

The reason I went out of my way to help countless women like Melissa.

I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to hold on to the warmth that had dominated my blood before.

He sauntered over to me, his chin jutting out slightly. He’d filled out since the last time I’d seen him—years ago. No longer the drugged-out rail-thin jerk. No, he had muscles now, but nothing compared to what I’d become accustomed to.

Nothing like my Shark.

“Shea,” he said again when he reached me.

I took a step back, wanting to keep an arm’s length between us—enough distance to dodge a punch or an attempt to grab me.

Old habits.

“What are you doing here?”

“Haven’t seen you in nearly ten years,” he said, shaking his head, his eyes trailing the length of my body. “The mother of my child. And that is what you say to me?”

I narrowed my gaze, drawing on that decade of fear that I’d harbored. I’d pictured this meeting a thousand times in my waking nightmares and in each one, I knew I would not be weak.

Later, later I could shake and cry and crumple.

Not now. Never in front of him.

“What the hell are you doing here, Todd?” I kept my voice as sharp as Hudson’s skates, and suddenly I was so damn thankful Elliott had begged to stay with Hannah and Lettie. Good gracious, what if I had brought her with me? Then she’d be subjected to…whatever it is he wanted.

“I want to see my daughter.”

Cold lashed through me like I’d been shot with a frozen bullet.

No.

Everything screamed a solid no.

Then fear prickled on the edges of my internal declaration. “You didn’t come to watch the Sharks, did you?” I asked. This wasn’t a chance meeting. He came here to seek me out, which meant he knew I’d be here, or at least guessed.

“Where is my daughter?” he asked, folding his hands behind his back, his eyes scanning the thinning crowd around us as fans exited the building.

“Can’t even remember her name, can you?” I snapped, adrenaline flooding my system. I wanted to run. Wanted to turn and race to the office where Ivy had Elliott, wanted her in my arms and as far away from him as I could get her.

“Can’t you cut me some slack?” he sucked his teeth. “Maybe I’ve changed.”

I shook my head. “You haven’t changed,” I said. “If you’d changed you wouldn’t have tracked me down like some lost belonging. You would’ve called my work first, then begged a professional meeting of two people who used to know each other. You wouldn’t use a shock tactic, showing up like this.” Plus, I could see it in those eyes—those damn eyes that were the same as my daughter’s in color. Exactly the same.

Except for the intent behind them.

Elliott’s were determined and bright and full of love and hope.

Todd’s were cold and listless and full of malice.

A tremor shook my body, the adrenaline abandoning the flight instinct and moving right on to fight.

My fingers itched to hit and scratch and hurt.

Hurt him for all he’d done to me.

I took a steadying breath, reminding myself of who I was.

I hated violence.

I hated abuse.

And I would not stoop to his level unless backed into a corner.

“You need to leave,” I said.

He arched a brow. “What, you own this building, now, Shea? I knew you had come into some money, but I didn’t realize you could buy arenas now.”

Part taunt and part truth.

He thought I had money?

How?

I couldn’t even afford the hockey fees for Elliott.

“I don’t have any—” I clenched my jaw. “Leave. Never seek us out again or I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” he stepped closer, and it took all the strength I possessed not to retreat. Not to back down from him. “You’ll call the cops?”

I nodded, not trusting my voice with him so close.

He shrugged. “Spent a lot of time avoiding cops the last ten years,” he said. “Don’t scare me. I’ve been a good boy, anyway. Kept my nose clean. And besides, I’m her father. I have rights.”

If I’d been weaker, I may have crumbled to the floor.

My worst nightmare.

> Manifested before me.

No.

He’d never gain legal rights. It was a matter of time before he was caught doing something heinous again.

“Or,” he said, tilting his head, surveying the now empty hallway. “Would you send your Shark after me?”

Ice barreled down my spine.

How did he know about Hudson?

Why did he care?

“Why are you here?” I asked again. “Really?”

“I want to see my daughter.”

“She’s never been your daughter.”

Red flashed behind his eyes, followed by that cold fury I knew meant I was about to get slapped or worse.

I took a step back, my eyes trained on his hands.

They shook and twitched, but he kept them locked down.

“It was always you,” he said, a muscle in his jaw ticking. “You were the reason I was so angry all the time,” he continued. “That mouth of yours,” he said. “Spouting such hateful shit.” He blew out a breath. “At least it was good for some things.”

I recoiled, bile crawling up my throat.

I’d been young and stupid, and I’d had no idea what I was doing.

Hence, pregnant at sixteen.

But even after all the darkness, all the fear, I wouldn’t change a thing—except maybe getting out sooner.

Because I had Elliott and she was my world. My heart.

“Leave.”

He sighed. “I will see my daughter,” he said. “Whether you like it or not.” He slowly moved past me, heading toward the exit.

Fear clawed at my insides, insatiable and raw.

“Why?” I called after him, and he stopped, turned back to me.

“She’s mine,” he said. “I have a right to see her.”

“You don’t though,” I said. “You gave up parental rights the day you day you beat me in front of her, an infant.” Not entirely true. Not since I ran and didn’t press charges. But I was praying he didn’t know the system like I did.

His brow furrowed, that rage flashing again. “It’ll take more than some law to keep her from me.”