Test the Ice (Blue Devils Hockey #4)

Chapter 1

One

REESE

My eyes spring open as I jerk awake. My fingers tingle from the sudden alertness.

Is she crying?

I push my hair out of my face and try to figure out where I am.

My heart pounds as I search the darkness, but I quickly realize that I’m inside my car and not at the apartment.

My phone pings, and I sigh with exhaustion.

Pins and needles race to my fingertips as I scroll past numerous Uber requests.

“Goddamnit,” I whisper with defeat.

The amount of money I just missed out on because of an impromptu nap makes me nauseated. I’m not making millions or anything, but the tips I get from driving around drunk college students or rowdy Blue Devils fans is a lot for someone like me.

I blow another strand of hair out of my face, as my shoulders slump. I might as well have been throwing dollar bills out the window with each snore.

Ugh.

The clock reads just a few minutes after midnight, which makes total sense as to why I jerked awake.

Charleigh, though eight months old, still wakes up occasionally throughout the night, and it’s usually around this time that she starts to cry, demanding my warm arms.

I pull open my texts and click on Zoe’s name.

Me

Are you still awake?

Of course my sister is awake. She’s a freshman in college.

Not to mention, she’s my babysitter on the nights that I’m working.

Zoe

If I wasn’t already, I would be now from Char.

I smile.

Me

Like clockwork. Give her a kiss for me. I’m going to try to make a few extra bucks, then I’ll be home.

Few extra bucks…make up for my nap. Unnecessary information.

Zoe

Be careful. There’s an extra baseball bat in the trunk if you need to knock someone’s knees in. Xx

I spin and stare at the backseat of my car.

I’m half tempted to check if she’s being serious, but I know she is.

Zoe may be my younger sister, but she’s as tough as nails. We both are, thanks to the way we grew up, but she’s much more the type to act now, ask questions later, and I am the complete opposite of that.

A ride request pops on my screen, and I greedily accept it. I pray it’s some drunk girl who’s always eager to become best friends. They always tip me well, even if it’s the last few dollars in their bank account.

I zero in on the address of the pick-up spot. My foot taps on the brake like it weighs three hundred pounds. If it were any other night, I probably wouldn’t take the bait. However, I have to make up for lost time and money, so I can’t be picky.

The farther away I get from downtown Chicago, the closer I get to the wealthier part of the city.

The streets are clean, free from potholes that could swallow my entire car in one gulp.

There are no homeless loiterers wandering about, and I swear if I were to roll the window down, the air would smell cleaner too.

My hands tighten on the steering wheel, and my hackles rise.

Relax, Reese. Benedict has no idea that you have this job.

He’s observant, but unless he’s stalking me or somehow tracking me like I’m a fugitive on the run, how would he know?

When I pull up to the curb, I glance out the passenger side window and wait for someone to approach. I tap my fingers on the center console and stare at the open bag of Skittles in the cup holder. I pop a red one into my mouth and suck on the sweet candy until the door opens.

A familiar manly drawl hits my ears. “Interesting to see you here, darling.”

I nearly suffocate on Benedict’s expensive cologne.

How the hell–

There is no way this is a coincidence. I may have some bad luck, but it’s not like I broke a mirror and became cursed for years to come.

“Benedict.” His name on my tongue may taste like poison, but I’ve thankfully perfected my bored tone when it comes to him.

There is no way I’m letting him know that I’m all riled up. He likes to pretend that he knows me well enough to see right through me, but he doesn’t. He didn't two years ago, and he surely doesn’t now.

He turns toward me in the passenger seat and stretches his long legs out in front of him. With his 6’3” frame, his knees practically touch the dash. I stare at his fingers tapping up and down on his pant leg.

“So this is your new job?” His tone drips with disgust.

My foot is glued to the brake. I’m not taking him anywhere.

“I’ve gotta pay the bills somehow,” I say.

I learned at a very young age what happens when you don’t pay the bills.

Spoiler alert: the electric company doesn’t care if it’s twenty degrees outside. If you don’t pay the bill, you’ll nearly freeze to death in your own home.

He rolls his eyes. “You act like there is no other option.”

I scoff. “There isn’t.”

His jaw flexes. There’s a tiny bit of stubble dotting the sharp edge of his chin, and I’m pretty sure that’s lipstick on the collar of his shirt.

He’s in expensive slacks, with a white button-up shirt, sans his suit jacket.

He either left it at home or gave it to some woman at the club we’re idling in front of.

“There is,” he argues. “If you were to get over that nasty streak of independence you have and move in with me, I’d take care of you. I could give you anything you want.”

A laugh flies from my mouth at the absurdity. Move in with him? Give me anything I want? Why? Just so he can use it against me and guilt me into a relationship with him? No, thank you.

Benedict’s smooth expression flickers like a light switch. His eyebrows crowd together, and his lips flatten with irritation.

“I’m getting tired of this cat-and-mouse game, Reese.” The charming Benedict is long gone, and in his place is the man he hides well.

“I’m not playing games.” I remain calm, but on the inside, I'm sweating with dread because I know what’s coming next.

A threat.

I grip onto the steering wheel for stability and focus on the worn leather beneath my palms, digging my nails into its soft skin.

“I think you like the chase.” Benedict's voice cuts through the ringing in my ears.

When I say nothing, he adjusts in the seat next to me, his hands clenching to make fists again. His longing stare shifts into a glare, and I start to sweat.

“You fucking love knowing that I can’t stop thinking about you, don’t you?”

I could smack him.

“What about your daughter?” I snap. “Do you ever think about her?”

I can’t help it. No matter how many times I tell myself not to feed into it, I do every time.

Those once-dreamy eyes narrow even more. “Leave the baby out of this.”

The baby.

The. Baby.

I grit my teeth together. “She has a name, and she’s hardly a baby anymore.”

He scoffs.

The very moment I told Benedict I was pregnant and he asked me to get rid of it, was when I knew I made a grave mistake. I’ll never admit that I regret meeting him, because I got Charleigh out of it, but I wish he’d just leave us be.

“How did you find out about me Ubering?” I ask.

The lone Skittle in my stomach threatens to come back up when he doesn’t answer me. Instead, he looks out the window, unfazed by my questioning. Even worse, he seems unbothered from my dig at his nonexistent parenting.

Heavy silence fills the car, and the longer we’re stuck in here, the more my hackles rise. The betrayal from his absence in Charleigh’s life cuts like a knife to my skin, and each time he pops back up, the knife pushes in a little farther.

“The only reason you ever come around is because you can’t stand knowing that I don’t want you.”

Benedict stiffens.

The air grows tight.

I shouldn’t have said that.

Something else I learned about Benedict very early on is that he isn’t someone you want to cross. A man like Benedict has too many connections, and his intellect goes much further than my podunk high school diploma and half a year in college.

“Is that how you want this to go?” he asks in a calm voice.

I think I prefer his angry voice instead, honestly.

I dig my nails into the steering wheel again. “This is nothing you haven’t heard before. If you want to be in Charleigh’s life for honest reasons, then fine. But if you only want to see her to get to me, I won’t allow it.”

My–our–daughter is not a toy.

She will not get stuck between a man who can’t take no for an answer and a woman who refuses to settle.

Staying away from Benedict isn’t just for my sake; it’s for hers too.

Benedict’s smooth chuckle brushes against the side of my face as he shifts in the passenger seat. “I didn’t want to pull this card but…”

My heart stalls from his dramatic pause. He’s toying with me, and I bet if I were to look at him, he’d be smiling like a fool.

I clear my throat. “Pull what card?”

“The one where I take you to court.”

I freeze. My scalp tingles with apprehension. “To court? For what?”

Benedict opens the passenger door. The cool night air rushes inside my car, but it doesn’t even touch the heat on my skin.

He swings his long legs around until his feet hit the pavement. With the sudden space between us, I get the nerve to look at him. His eyes pierce right through me, and the truth is as clear as day—he isn’t bluffing.

Once he’s fully out of my car, I’m half tempted to drive away with the door still open, which is something Zoe would do, not me, so I keep my foot pressed against the brake.

He leans down with his arms laying on the roof of the car. The smile on his face is that of a snake. “It’s a shame you keep my daughter from me, sweetheart.”

What?!

My jaw slacks. The puff of air that leaves me sounds like a gasp, and it does nothing but feed Benedict even more ammunition to scare me.

“Do I have your attention now?” he asks lazily.

I say nothing. Too stunned to speak.

“If you don’t want to be mine, so be it.” Benedict taps his fingers along the top of my car, matching the rhythm of my racing heart. “But that means you don’t get to keep what’s mine either.”

Fury blinds me. The words crash right through the warnings in my head not to smack him directly in the face. If he would just lean down a little farther…

“Ah, I’ve struck a nerve?” he asks through a smirk.

“How can you claim she’s yours when you’ve held her a handful of times since she was born?” And every time, he acts like I should put out for him just because he gave her an ounce of attention.

He shrugs. “I don’t think the judge will see it that way when I tell the court about your past…where you live…your many jobs…how you can hardly pay the bills and keep a roof over Charleigh’s head.”

Just the sound of her name coming from his mouth sends me into a frenzy.

Before I can argue with him further, he slams the door in my face and slaps the top of my car, as if he’s giving me permission to leave.

Permission or not, I do exactly that.

I speed off down the street and head home. I dump the rest of the Skittles into my mouth, as if the sweet taste of candy is going to calm me down somehow.