Page 111 of Branded (Breakers Hockey)

Forty

Jules

Ethan was chattering, excited about descending into the depths of the arena, barely able to contain himself because a woman in a Sierra shirt had come during the third period and said Lake Jordan wanted to meet us and had given us passes to the Sierra side of the arena (taking away my ability to avoid that part of our evening).

He’d been beside himself.

Seeing the Sierra and the Breakers?

Nirvana for a hockey-crazed five-year-old.

So Ethan was about to meet Lake Jordan and see the people he liked most in the world (and no, I didn’t include myself on that list, not when it came to a comparison between me and his hockey players).

And yes, he thought of them and called them his hockey players.

But I’d barely been able to smile at his description, had barely been able to file it away to tell Cas later because one second, he was chattering, and the next, the elevator doors were opening and I was stepping off onto the floor and…

Into a fucking nightmare.

Lake was standing outside the door. But he wasn’t the nightmare.

Cas was standing next to him, looking pissed. But he wasn’t the nightmare either.

Nope.

That bad dream of all bad dreams was…Nate standing behind them both.

I knew I shouldn’t have come down here.

I knew it.

But Smitty had made plans and then Lake had sent the passes and Ethan had been excited and they’d come with a note promising to be discreet (something that I was realizing now was too little too late, considering the fact that he’d singled me out with that tap on the glass before the game and had smiled at me several times throughout—despite the fact that his team was losing).

Ethan had wanted to go.

And I’d done my best over the years.

But for so long, it had been difficult to give my son what he wanted.

I knew that he wouldn’t have thrown a fit if I’d told him that we couldn’t go down, that we needed to go home.

But the light in his eyes would dim…and my heart didn’t have that in me.

Not right then.

Not when things had been so fucking great over the last couple of weeks.

So…we’d gone down.

And now I’d stepped off the elevator and walked straight into my worst nightmare.

“Hey, Cas, I haven’t—” Smitty's voice preceded him as he came around the corner and cut off when he finished walking into the lobby area. Or maybe when he processed the shit show that was taking place in front of him.

“Smitty!” Ethan cried out, running toward him.

The big man recovered impressively quickly, moving forward and scooping up my son and then putting plenty of distance between them and Nate.

Thank God he wasn’t frozen like I was. That he seemed to know what to do, unlike me.

“Hey, bud!” he said, settling Ethan on his shoulders.

“I have something cool to show you.” Smitty’s remorseful eyes hit mine and he mouthed, “I’m sorry. ”

“It’s okay,” I mouthed back.

But we both knew it wasn’t okay. Not in the fucking least .

But Smitty was getting my son away, making it so that he wasn’t going to be exposed to this scene, and however shitty it turned out.

Because every part of me knew that it wasn’t going to go well .

The sneer on Nate’s face and the glimmer of mean in his eyes told me that much.

He’d had that mean the last time I’d seen him.

I’d felt that mean in every interaction we’d had since—and those interactions had been limited to some texts, a handful of phone calls (and nasty voicemails left on my phone, for his part), and later, through our own attorneys (on the advice of my attorney) with terse emails and letters and faxes.

“Wait,” Nate said, grabbing for Ethan’s arm. “What’s your name, kiddo?”

“Don’t—” I began, but then Cas was there, his body between Smitty and Ethan and Nate. Who didn’t like Cas’s interference, not in the freaking least.

Which he showed by shoving Cas hard enough to send him back a pace.

“That’s my—” Nate hissed.

“Shut it,” Cas said, the tone fierce enough to cut Nate off, though my ex took a step closer, got even more in Cas’s face.

Then Cas had the assistance of Lake, who stood shoulder to shoulder with him, arms crossed, face thunderous.

Lake.

God. My Lake.

I’d pushed him away for more than five years and he still had my back.

And that— as I stood smack dab in the middle of my worst nightmare—was when I understood why I’d been able to trust Cas, how I’d been able to do it so quickly after everything had happened.

Because despite everything, I’d had one good man in my life growing up.

And he was standing next to the man I loved now.

Nate’s voice rose. “Get the fuck out of my way and?—”

“Don’t do that in front of Ethan,” Cas snapped, fiercely enough that miracle of miracles, Nate shut up again.

“Mom?” An uncertain question from my son.

I turned, plastered a smile on my face. “It’s okay, honey. But we do need to have an adult conversation”—a snort from Nate—“so why don’t you and Smitty go have fun and I’ll catch up with you in a little bit?”

He bit his lip, clearly not buying my explanation or my fake smile. “I’ll be right there.” I called on all of my limited acting skills and added, “Promise.”

“And promises are made for keeping,” he said, his expression relaxing.

I saw Nate jerk out of the corner of my eye, but didn’t turn to look at him. Instead, I just focused on what was important.

Ethan.

“Exactly, bud,” I said.

“Smitty?” Cas asked once Ethan had nodded, had smiled back at me. It was less question and was more like an order, and a sharp one at that.

But Smitty didn’t rebuke it.

He just said, “On it,” and took off back around the corner with Ethan on his big, broad shoulders. Maybe that should have scared me, a big man just taking off with my kid. But I knew Smitty, and I knew Cas, and I knew that they both would do anything to protect my son.

So, I didn’t comment on Cas’s order or on Smitty’s actions.

In fact, I didn’t comment on anything else.

Not until I was certain that Smitty and Ethan were out of earshot, that my son was safe. Not even when Theo appeared as Smitty disappeared, his expression darkening as he moved toward our trio, making it clear he was throwing down with Lake and Cas.

Only then did I turn to Nate, prepared to confront all that mean.

Cas stepped toward me, taking my hand, tucking me behind him. Protecting. Again. Only this time, it was me and not Ethan.

I clenched at his fingers.

He was calm and steady and Cas.

“That’s my son,” Nate said.

And it wasn’t mean.

That alone had me looking through a gap in the broad wall Cas and Lake and Theo were forming, had me studying Nate’s face.

“That’s my son,” he said again.

“No.” I pushed between Cas and Lake, fought against the hold Cas had on me. I didn’t succeed in breaking it, didn’t succeed in getting in front of the only two men in my life who’d loved me.

Lake’s love was that of a big brother, a friend.

Cas’s was…well, Cas’s was everything else.

So, I wasn’t surprised that they kept me hemmed in with their bodies, kept me safe. I wasn’t surprised when Cas exchanged the grip he had on my hand and slid his arm around my waist, pulled me against him.

What I was surprised about?

The expression on Nate’s face.

“Promises are made for keeping,” he whispered.

And lightning shot through my veins. After all this time…I’d forgotten.

Forgotten who’d told me that the first time, who’d made promises of his own but then hadn’t kept them.

Nate.

He’d said that. He’d made the promises.

And he’d broken them.

“That’s my son,” he whispered now.

“No,” I repeated. “He’s my son. Mine . You haven’t spent a minute with him, haven’t tried to know him, haven’t provided for him.

” Nate rocked back on his heels like I’d punched him, but I didn’t stop.

Not when his expression went stark. Not when his throat worked, and he looked away.

“He will never be your son. You don’t love him. You’ve never loved anyone .”

His head jerked up, eyes filled with shadows.

And that had me amending my statement. Slightly.

“You’ve never loved anyone who couldn’t give you something,” I said, jabbing a finger at him.

“You’re selfish and an asshole and if you think I haven’t seen the way you are in the many dozens of news stories about you, then you’re wrong.

I’ve seen them. I’ve seen you. And I know you haven’t changed. ”

This time he took a physical step back.

“So, no,” I growled. “You’re not going to bring your bullshit into my son’s life. You’re not going to poison the light he has inside him. You’re not going to hurt him. Not today. Not in the future.” Nate stumbled back another step. “Not ever. ”

Nate swallowed.

Cas’s arm tightened.

And since I was on a roll, I kept going. “What you are going to do is sign the papers your lawyer has had for years and get the fuck out of Ethan’s life. Forever.”

“Promises,” Nate said again, and—fuck me—but his gaze dropped to his feet, and it made me feel the slightest bit guilty.

When, dammit, I had nothing to feel guilty about.

“ Promises.” His head shot up, and I couldn’t read his eyes, couldn’t read his expression.

Because then he’d turned away.

Then he’d walked away.

I looked at Cas, at Lake, searched for an explanation, but their faces told me they were just as clueless.

“You have got to be shitting me.”

I jumped, spinning toward the voice and saw that a petite blonde with deep brown eyes was behind us, teeth biting into a lush bottom lip, her curvy body pressed so tightly against the expanse of wall, it was as though she were trying to disappear.

“I’m sorry,” she said, meeting my gaze. “I-I didn’t mean to overhear.”

Theo glared. “Bullshit, Eva.”

I glanced away from the stricken woman, eyes widening at the fury on Theo’s face. “Don’t tell me you weren’t trying for a big story.”

That was when I saw the cell phone with the recording app open in Eva’s hand.

Fuck.

I really didn’t want my story, my face, my son plastered on social media.

“I’m not going for a story. I swear,” Eva added quickly. “I was just going to head home, and I turned the corner and you guys were—” She bit her lip again, pressed back against the wall even harder. “I promise. I-I—” Her gaze went to mine again. “I’m really sorry. I wasn’t trying to overhear.”

Theo snorted.

And Eva narrowed her eyes.

But then she all but threw her phone at Theo. “There, okay?” she snapped. “You’ll see that I didn’t record anything.” A glance back at me. “I didn’t record anything.”

Theo snorted again. “Right. We all know that you’d do anything for a story.”

The emphasis on anything made Eva pale.

Another glance at me, her throat working before she said softly, “I know you won’t believe me. But I promise I won’t report on this.”

Then Eva turned on her heel and hurried away.