Chapter 40
Laiken
It doesn’t take long for the police to show up. Red and blue lights slice across the sidewalk, bouncing off raised phones and glass storefronts, staining everything in jarring color. I step away from Kia and Elody before anyone tells me to. My hands stay visible and I remain calm.
Control matters now.
In moments like this, everything I do matters.
When an officer asks me to explain what happened, I give him a plain, factual account of the events.
“He grabbed my pregnant wife,” I say evenly. “And our child was present.”
More than one witness backs it up. Someone points to Collin’s split lip as another person angles their phone, already replaying the video. I catch an officer’s glance flicking toward the screen, his jaw tightening just a fraction.
Deep down, I know it won’t matter why I threw the punch.
Only that I did.
Collin and I are separated, and statements are taken.
Names are written down, times logged. I expect cuffs, and I can’t help but brace for them.
As much as the thought of Elody seeing that makes my stomach turn, I’m ready for it.
Ready to face the consequences, because if I had to do it again in order to protect my family, I would.
Instead, the officer tells me I’m not under arrest.
For now.
The videos and witnesses help, he says. But this could still come back around, and charges could be filed. Collin leaves with a warning from the police. He shoots me a glare before stalking off.
Violence might have solved the immediate problem, but it also created a hundred more.
When the crowd finally thins, I find Kia sitting on the curb with Elody tucked against her side. My little girl is unnaturally quiet, her fingers twisting tight into Kia’s coat, as if she’s afraid to let go.
I crouch in front of her, lowering myself until we’re eye level. “Hey, bug. Are you okay?”
She nods before thinking for a moment and then slowly shaking her head. “Is that bad man gonna come back?”
The question lands like a punch I can’t block.
“No,” I tell her. “He won’t come near you again. I promise.”
When she leans forward, pressing her forehead into my shoulder, I wrap my arms around her. It would be impossible not to feel the faint tremor that runs through her small body. From nearby, someone yells, and she flinches.
This is what scares me most of all. Not the punch or the cameras but the idea that my little girl might start looking around and expecting danger. That part of her carefree childhood has been stolen from her. No four-year-old should ever have to experience that.
“I’m so sorry,” Kia whispers. “I didn’t know he’d do this. It’s all my fault—”
With a shake of my head, I cut her off. “No, it’s not.”
She looks up at me, eyes glassy, blame already invading places it shouldn’t.
“None of this is on you,” I say, needing her to understand the truth. “He crossed a line, and I did my job by protecting you and Elody.” My voice dips. “I will never apologize for keeping either of you safe.”
Her shoulders sag, as if she’s been carrying around a heavy weight for far too long.
As much as I don’t want to think about it, I already know the McIntyres will use this against me.
They’ll try to paint me as violent and unstable.
That the environment I’m providing for my daughter is unsafe.
I can picture Elody sitting in a chair that’s too big, her feet unable to touch the floor, while some court appointed stranger asks if she’s afraid of me.
The thought turns my stomach.
I’ve spent years making sure no one ever had reason to doubt my ability to protect and provide for my daughter. One punch, and I may have handed them the ammunition they need to take her away.
My phone buzzes.
And then again.
Steele. Knox. River. Oliver. A few of my other teammates. Then there are a bunch of unknown numbers. Every vibration feels like my life is spinning further out of control.
I ignore them before stepping a few feet away to make the only call that matters.
“Hugh,” I say when he picks up on the first ring. “There was an incident, and I want you to hear it directly from me.”
He doesn’t interrupt as I give him the short version. When I finish, there’s a pause on the line long enough for me to know he’s weighing the consequences.
“It’s already popping up,” he says finally. “I’ll loop Rina in and we’ll figure out a plan.”
“Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me yet, Lennox,” he warns. “We need to see how this plays out. Especially with the police. Come see me first thing tomorrow.”
“I’ll be there.”
After hanging up, I look back at Kia and Elody.
My wife is holding our daughter as if it’s possible to keep the world at bay.
Unfortunately, it’s much too late for that.
I head back to them with measured steps and rest my hand on Elody’s head first, smoothing her hair, reminding myself that she’s safe.
When my palm settles on Kia’s shoulder, she leans into the touch, as if unconsciously seeking out comfort. My chest tightens, not with fear but with the understanding that I can’t afford to fail them.
All I can do is hope like hell that protecting my family doesn’t cost me everything.
Because tomorrow the league will weigh in. Sponsors will call. The media will build a story out of whatever angle sells best as the internet decides who I am in thirty seconds or less.
And there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.
For now, I pull my girls close and hold on tight, bracing for the fallout.
Because the punch has already been thrown.
Now comes damage control.
And I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure we survive the storm.