Chapter 28
WTF
Lenzin
The locker room is always loud after a win, but it’s not the level it usually is. Right now, we’re at what the fuck was that level. We may have done our job, but none of us loved our performance. Minnesota pushed harder than they should have, making us push harder yet.
I sit, phone in my hand, staring at three texts.
Hildy:
Home.
Hildy:
Lucy is asleep early, wearing your number.
Hildy:
The game looked rough. You played well.
Unlike the past several days, there is no teasing. No commentary about a missed defensive coverage. No “sparkly shoes.” No, we miss you. Just… polite.
I read them again.
Aleks drops onto the bench beside me. “You are still staring at that screen.”
“She’s different.”
He exhales through his nose. “You are dramatic.”
“She’s not dramatic.”
“Exactly.” He chuckles.
I don’t respond.
Stone throws tape into the trash across the room. “Are you proposing soon?”
I glare at him.
Aleks smirks. “He thinks he did something that pissed her off.”
“I didn’t.”
“Love you, man,” Hank chuckles. “But if Hildy’s pissed, you did it.” He looks at some of the team. “She’s awesome.”
“I didn’t do anything,” I … pout?
Aleks chuckles as he stands, “Then stop acting guilty.”
It’s late, but I send her a message anyway.
Me:
Miss my girls. Bus. Plane. Then home. I love you, Schatz.
I watch the dots flit across the screen, stop, and start again.
And right before we get on the bus, I get a message.
Hildy:
I know.
I know? I’m not sure how to take that. In one hand it’s good that she knows, I want her to always know. In the other, a big pile of steaming… insecurity.
“Keep looking like a broken-hearted little bitch, and I’m tossing that phone in a snowbank. She said she knows. End of.”
“You read my message?” I gasp.
“In case you didn’t know, M Fer, you’ve been on watch this whole time.” Dash chuckles.
“On what?”
“Never you mind, it’s for your own good,” Koa grumbles.
“What the hell is—”
“It’s,” Deacon pauses. “Preventative measures. For the love-sick.”
Stone grins from across the room. “Dash Watch.”
Dash hip-checks him into a seat. “Fuck no.”
“First road trip,” Koa shrugs. “Man gets a girl, starts staring at his phone like it owes him money.”
“Last time someone got like that,” Stone adds, “he snuck out of a hotel and hopped a plane.”
Dash points a finger. “Once.”
“Twice,” Deacon corrects.
“That’s fair,” Dash concedes.
I stare at them. “You’re all idiots.”
“Maybe,” Koa says, nodding toward my phone. “But you’re the one under Dash Watch.”
Our flight is delayed. Weather over the Northeast. One hour, they said, which means two.
I sit with my phone in my hand, pretending I’m reading the same message for the first time.
Three words that somehow feel like both reassurance and a threat to my peace of mind.
Aleks sits beside me, scrolling through something on his phone until he leans slightly into my space and mutters, “Whatever you’re planning, don’t.”
I glance over. “What?”
He keeps staring.
I tilt the screen toward myself, shielding my calendar.
Aleks exhales through his nose like a man witnessing stupidity unfold in real time.
“Stop being a nosy little bitch,” I mutter.
He lifts an eyebrow.
“I am not nosy.”
“You are reading my calendar.”
“You’re holding it at my face.”
“Bullshit, and even if I were, it still does not make it your business.”
“Fine.” He leans back in his chair. “Continue making bad decisions.”
“Take my word for it,” Dash sighs, rubbing his face. “Brainstorming shit like sexy red dresses with a bunch of puckholes may seem like a bad idea,” He pauses, “until it isn’t.”
Stone snorts.
Koa looks up from his phone. “What did you do?”
“Nothing.”
No one believes that.
Aleks gestures lazily toward my phone. “He did something.”
Dash points at me. “Talk to us.”
I do not respond, I stare out the window instead and watch as more snow drifts across the tarmac.
Koa leans forward, elbows on his knees. “You tell her you put her name on the house?”
I look at him slowly. “How would she know that?”
Deacon snickers. “You bought her a house?”
“I bought the mother of my children —all three of them— a home.”
Stone whistles. “Bold move.”
“You never know what could happen,” I continue evenly. “I like preparation.”
Dash rubs his temples. “You are a lunatic.”
Aleks nods. “Rich lunatic.”
Koa grins. “Romantic lunatic.”
Deacon laughs. “Terrifying lunatic.”
I ignore all of them. “She’s fine.”
Dash studies me. “Fine, how?”
“Fine.” I state.
“Define fine.” He prys.
“Short messages.”
The entire row groans.
Stone points at me. “You’re dead.”
“I am not dead.”
“You’re road trip dead,” Koa clarifies.
Dash sighs like he’s exhausted. “What else?”
I hesitate.
Aleks mutters another curse under his breath.
“What else?” Dash repeats.
I lean back in my chair. “She may have found out…” Everyone goes quiet. “…that I contacted Lucy’s father.”
Koa blinks. “To do what?”
“Sign off his parental rights.”
Dead silence, until Deacon bursts out laughing. Then Stone nearly falls out of his chair. Aleks rubs his face to hide a smile.
Dash stares at me. “You negotiated custody with the man who has had nothing to do with his kids?” He pauses. “…without telling her.”
I nod once.
“Gentlemen,” Dash leans back and looks at the ceiling. “We have a new front-runner for Dumbest Romantic Gesture of the Year.”
Aleks nods. “Congratulations.”
Koa grins. “You’re definitely on Dash Watch now.”
I look at my phone again.
Hildy:
I know.
Two hours turns into three, and then we finally boarded.
I’m jolted awake when the plane lands, just enough turbulence to irritate everyone already irritated by the delay. The second we’re cleared to land, I’m on my feet.
Aleks grabs my arm. “You’re not riding with us?”
“No, I have a ride.”
He studies me. “You sure you know what you’re doing?”
“I know it’s the right thing to do,” I say as I head to the exit.
I’m in the car before the team bus even loads.
“Morning Scotti,” I yawn.
“You sure you’re up for this?” She asks pulling away from the curb.
“I am.”
“You sure I can’t drive you?” she asks.
“I need the wheel.”
“Understood,” she says as she hits the gas. “Let’s get you to your vehicle.”
The skyline fades behind concrete and wire.
The fact that security knew my name was jarring, but it’s New York. I hate that they do.
I sign in, hand over my phone, and walk through metal detectors.
The air smells like disinfectant and darkness, and I try very hard not to inhale too deeply because it’s honestly nauseating.
They led me into a sterile visitation room with bolted tables and chairs.
I already know I am going to shower as soon as I can.
Hell, I may stop at the arena before I step foot into the house.
I decide not to sit until she is seated.
I look at the clock and wonder if she is keeping me waiting, on purpose, no doubt.
At first glance, when she walks in, it is obvious that she is Hildy, and Lucy’s mother, but as she gets closer, her eyes?
There is little life in them. They’d be completely dead if not for the fact that she is looking at me, trying to figure out how to push my buttons.
Chaos. Cornered. Anger. The rest of her is composed, sharp, and calculating.
Her eyes rake over me slowly.
“So,” she says, sitting, “My eldest finally found a man who she thinks is worthy of her.”
I don’t sit immediately, I let her look, then I take the bench across from her.
“She found one who will try every day to be that, worthy of a woman like Hildy,” I pause, and add, “and Lucy.”
She smiles, thin. “So, you’re the one who thinks you can save her.”
I don’t rise to it. “I’m not here to save anyone; they’re good, great actually, but thank you for asking. I’m here to simplify paperwork.”
Her eyebrow lifts, “You’re very confident for someone playing house.”
I place the folder on the table already done with this bitch. “Sign.”
She doesn’t touch it. “You’ve known her how long?”
“Long enough.”
“She won’t marry you. She’ll never have children, she thinks she’s better than—”
“Lucy asked if she could call her mommy.”
She stiffens. “She’ll never replace me.”
I bite back a laugh, “You do know that you put her in the position to do exactly that, correct?”
She narrows her eyes and changes the subject, with a fucking smile, “Men like you don’t stay.”
I lean forward now. “Women like you, a woman locked up, because you have no regard for your own child’s life or anyone else for that matter, don’t get to comment on men like me.
” Her smile falters. “You forfeited custody,” I continue calmly.
“You gave that away when you chose to put her in harm’s way.
This is not about pride. This is about Lucy. ”
She tilts her head. “You think I don’t love her.”
“I think love without action is just noise.”
Silence, except for the officer who caught that and shifts by the wall.
She taps one manicured-ish nail against the table.
“You’ll never be her father.” I simply shrug. “But you want to be.”
“I already am.”
She studies me differently now, measuring. “You’ll get tired.”
“No.”
“She’s wants more than—”
“I know what she wants.”
“She has trauma that—.”
“So do I.”
That one surprises her, but she keeps on going. “You’re very sure of yourself.”
“I am very sure of her.”
I slide the pen closer.
“If you contest this later, I will make your life more complicated than it already is. Legally, publicly, thoroughly.”
Her lips thin. “You threatening me?”
“I’m informing you.”
Another beat of silence.
“You think she can replace me.” Her voice shakes, in rage, not sadness.
“You’re in here for almost killing your daughter.” I nod to the paperwork, and she stares at it. “Not a hard thing to do.”
“You’re an arrogant piece of shit.”
“I’m prepared.”
She finally picks up the folder and flips through it slowly. “You think this little domestic fantasy of yours will last?”
I tilt my head slightly. “You know what lasts?” She doesn’t answer. “Action.”
“Her father will never let you adopt her.”
I don’t blink. “He already signed.”
Her hand tightens around the pen as she gasps, “What?”
“He signed the relinquishment of parental rights four days ago.” She searches my face for a lie. “Looks like he cares more about her future than you.”
The room goes very still.
“Ask Hildy how much he cares,” she sputters.
“This isn’t about Hildy, this is about a man who admits he’s been absent, due to his own choices.” I continue evenly. “He’s incarcerated and may very well have been detached. But when presented with the opportunity to provide her with stability, he signed. And you? You’re hesitating.”
“You don’t get to rewrite our history,” she snaps.
“I’m not rewriting anything,” I say calmly. “I’m paving a future.”
She shoves the papers at me. “You think this makes you noble.”
“No,” I reply. “It makes me responsible.”
She glares at me. Then— “I want to see them both before I do anything.”
“You want Lucy, that sweet little girl, to see the woman who was supposed to protect her, and epically failed and nearly killed her, to come to this place and see you in orange and living behind bars?”
“Yes.” She turns to the guard, “I’m ready to go back now.”
“Well,” I stand. “That will be up to Hildy, but with great confidence I can say, see you at court.”