Chapter 42
Juliet
Jimbo Greene calls asking if I can travel with the team for tonight’s quick away game to Las Vegas. It’s a turnaround game, where we fly there and head back right after. The management thinks I have a calming effect on Hunter.
Which is fair. He makes all the noise in my head vanish when I touch him. Maybe it’s the same thing for him.
Team management wants him to be ready for what’s shaping up to be a high-stakes matchup. This game is a big deal and crucial for playoff positioning. Honestly, I needed little convincing to hop on a flight.
Hux seems thrilled with the idea. He spent the nearly three-hour flight with me on his lap, his nose buried in my hair. Apparently, I smell good. I’m not about to protest spending time with him. I’ll take all I can get.
I can feel the tension from the team management as we settle into the visiting team’s box.
Jimbo and Jared are here, watching everything below the box like two predators studying their prey.
I do a few interviews while we’re up here, filming quick sixty-second sound bites about how the team is excited to face old rivals like the Vegas Suns.
The media coverage of Hunter has shifted remarkably in the last few days.
There were exactly two full days of hell after the video emerged, then a goalie from Florida drunkenly smashed his car up and a bystander caught it on film.
The sharks circling Hunter flipped over to that story with barely a backward glance.
Reporters are now calling the Havoc surprising contenders and praising their balanced play and newly disciplined front line.
Hunter’s name still shows up in every coverage reel, but now it’s next to team accomplishments, not tabloid drama. The worst has passed; the world forgot his drama when something juicer appeared. Such is life in a twenty-four hour media cycle.
I’m reading through the latest round of coverage and keeping one eye on the rink when I see her.
Darla Huxley.
She’s sitting three rows down, dressed impeccably, and watching the warm-ups with calculated attention. She’s not screaming or making a scene this time. Just watching. Waiting.
I can tell the exact moment when Hunter spots her from the way his shoulders go rigid during drills. His movements suddenly get a little too abrupt.
I don’t wait to see what she’ll do. I excuse myself from the box and make my way down to where she’s sitting.
“Mrs. Huxley,” I say, sliding into the empty seat beside her. “What are you doing here?”
She turns with that practiced smile and ignores my question. “Juliet! How lovely to see you, hon. I was hoping we’d chat.”
“Mrs. Huxley, you’re banned from the stadium.”
“Oh, really.” She rolls her eyes. “There’s always someone willing to take a little extra cash to let me in the side door.”
Ah. I make a note to tell the head of security about it. If there’s someone on the security team who isn’t trustworthy, I think he’ll want to know.
“You should leave. Hunter has a shot at going to the finals tonight, but he has to be laser-focused. You want your son to win, right?”
She waves off my concerns. “Oh, I’m just here to support my son. Surely there’s nothing wrong with a mother watching her boy play.”
Oh, so that’s the delulu world we’re living in? Two can play at that game. I lean forward, smiling, and place a hand on her arm.
“There’s everything wrong with a mother who shows up to destabilize her son before an important game.”
Her smile falters slightly. “I raised him, you know. Everything he is, I helped create.”
“Hunter is good because he chose to be,” I say, my voice steel wrapped in silk. “His heart stayed soft even when life tried to make it hard. You don’t get to claim credit for that just because you gave birth to him.”
“Hon, you don’t understand our relationship—”
I cut her off, unwilling to listen to more. “I understand perfectly. You’re a woman who exploited her own child. Now you’re trying to insert yourself back into his life when it’s convenient for you. That’s not motherhood. That’s manipulation.”
Darla’s composure cracks just enough for me to see the calculation underneath. “You think you know him better than his own mother?”
“I know he’s worked incredibly hard to become the man he is today. And I know that work has nothing to do with you. He’ll succeed in life despite you, Darla.”
“You’re just a trashy, no good slut,” Darla hisses. “He’ll tire of you. Then I’ll be back in his life and you’ll be gone.”
I roll my eyes. “Our relationship is none of your business.”
She grabs my arm, her fingernails suddenly digging into my skin almost hard enough to break the surface. “Maybe I should just save my son from the heartbreak and make sure you disappear.”
“Is that a threat, Darla?” I stand up, smoothing my skirt.
Keeping a smirk off my face is hard. “For the record, I’m not fucking scared of you.
You’re not welcome in Hunter’s life. Enjoy the game.
But if you try to approach either Hunter or me afterward, security will escort you out.
They’re right behind us, monitoring your every movement. ”
She looks up, and the two burly guards I brought to keep tabs on her are standing three rows back, eyes on her. I walk away without looking back, my heart pounding but my step steady.
Instead of heading up to the box, I go down to the tunnel, standing and watching Hux dominate the ice. Every time I deal with his mom, I’m a little more impressed that he turned out as good inside as he is.
The game itself is electric. Hunter plays like a man possessed, but in the best way. Controlled. Focused. Deadly in all the right ways. When the other team tries to bait him into penalties, he just skates away. When they get rough, he gets smart.
They win 3-1. Hunter gets two assists.
The roar of the Dome is different tonight. Not Chainsaw chants demanding blood. Not fans waving foam saws like weapons. This is pride. This is joy.
They’re cheering because Hunter outskated the Stars. Because he set up the winning goal. Because he played smart.
Reporters crowd the glass, scribbling notes, murmuring about redemption. I can just imagine what they are writing. Chainsaw grows up. Huxley dominates with discipline.
On the bench, Thorne claps him on the back. Hunter barely reacts. He lifts his head, scanning the crowd until his eyes lock on mine.
I’m already standing, clapping like my heart might burst. When his gaze catches mine, I make the smallest nod.
And he smiles. Not the angry, sharp smile the fans are used to. A real one. My knees nearly give out from how much it floors me.
“That’s my man!” I scream. He flashes me a grin. In the hubbub, I feel like I can get away with claiming him as mine. No one can hear me over the roar of the crowd.
After the game, Hunter finds me in the hallway outside the locker room. He doesn’t say anything about Darla, but I can see in his eyes that he knows what happened.
“Thank you.”
“What, for standing up to her?” I smile up at him. “You don’t have to thank me for that.”
“Yeah, I do.”
“It’s just the cost of doing business.” I push up on my tiptoes, kissing him gently. “You’re worth it. Trust me.”
He slides his hand along my jaw. “What did I do to deserve you?”
“Just lucky, I guess,” I tease. I decide not to tell him about the vague threat Darla issued. He’d only be more upset about it if he knew. I’ll definitely tell the Havoc’s security team about it when we get back to Seattle, though.
Hunter throws an arm around my waist as we exit the arena. We’re walking to the team bus when Alex Thorne appears beside us, his expression grim.
“Huxley, we need to talk. Your mother just cornered me and asked me to give you this.”
He hands Hunter an envelope. Even from a distance, I can see Darla’s careful handwriting.
Hunter’s jaw ticks. He takes the envelope, and without opening it, tears it in half.
“If she approaches you again, call security,” Hunter says.
“Already done. I’ve alerted building management too. She’s not welcome at our facilities.” Thorne hesitates. “I’m just making sure you’re both all right.”
I hug Hux’s waist. “We’re fine. Mrs. Huxley has just realized that we’ve cut off her oxygen supply, so she’s making her death rattle extra dramatic. It should be over soon.”
After Thorne leaves, Hunter looks at me with something raw in his expression. “I can’t keep doing this. She’s never going to stop. Not unless someone makes her stop.”
“What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking it’s time to let the lawyers handle it. Criminal charges, restraining order, all of it.”
I study his face. I can see the exhaustion there, but also the resolve.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. She threatened you tonight just by being here. She’s harassing my teammates. This ends now.”
I bite my lip. “I didn’t mention this, but she did actually threaten me.”
“She what?!” He grips me and looks at me, eyes scanning my face. “What did she say?”
“She said something about saving you the heartache and making me disappear. It was really vague and hand-wavy.”
“I’ll kill her,” he hisses. His entire face is a dark thundercloud. “I’ll fucking kill her. I swear to god.”
“Baby.” I put my hand on his chest, imploring. “Don’t freak out. I wasn’t even going to mention it to you because her threat made me laugh. I’m only telling you because I think it could be the ammunition you need for a restraining order.”
He wraps a hand around the base of my neck and hauls me against his chest. “You’re goddamn right I’m going to get a fucking restraining order. I’m going to bury her so deep in legal shit that she’ll never get out. She can’t just threaten you and think I won’t react.”
“She wants your reaction. If you call her and tell her off, she’s just going to threaten me anytime she wants attention.”
A growl sounds deep in his chest. “Fuck her.”