15. Xander

CHAPTER 15

XANDER

A s much as I’d love to haul off and punch that asshole Charles square in his ugly face right now, I decide that’s not the best tactic to take here. For me or for Rachel and Jett. That’s the sort of behavior that landed me on probation in the first place and I can’t afford another setback.

“Jackson, do you have a sec?” I sink down onto the bench bordering the empty ice rink. I purposely came early to practice, hoping to catch him alone.

“Sure. What’s up?”

I toss a copy of the Starlight Bay Gazette at him. He picks up the newspaper, scans it.

“Not great.”

I run a hand through my hair. “Yeah, I know. And this is the least of my concerns.”

“Does your main concern happen to involve a blonde single mom with a kid on our team?”

“It does.”

“I knew it. Harper suspected something was going on between you two.”

“She’s correct. But it’s not a fling, like the media’s saying. I really care about Rachel. A lot. I’ve never felt this way before. I get that she has a child and I wouldn’t do anything to hurt him or make things more difficult for either of them. I know all too well what that’s like.”

Jackson raises his dark brows. “It seems like the two of you are doing everything right then. Fuck the media. So what’s the problem?”

“Charles.”

“Oh, I should have guessed. That guy’s always been a dick.”

“Well, nothing’s changed. He really has it out for Rachel.”

Jackson wipes his palm on his joggers, glancing over at me. “You should stay out of it, Xander. Let Rachel handle her ex.”

Clasping my hands, I rest my elbows on my knees as I stare out at the rink.

“Normally, I would. If he stuck to the bully playbook and only slung insults. But he crossed the line Jackson—he hurt her. More than once now.”

“What? How?” Jackson’s brow furrows, a deep V forming between his eyes.

“Petty shit so far. Bruises on her forearms, her biceps. But he’s unhinged. The situation could escalate, you know?”

“Damn, I had no idea.”

“Rachel’s pretty private. I’m sure she doesn’t want anyone to know. I only found out because she flinched when I touched her.”

“Shit.” Jackson scrubs the back of his neck. “I want to kick his ass now, too. Has he ever hurt Jett?”

I shrug. “Not that I know of. Rachel would lose her mind if he did. But the guy’s a ticking time bomb.”

“Has she gone to the cops?”

“No. She doesn’t want to make waves and upset Jett. She’s downplaying the entire situation.”

“Man, you have to tread lightly. The last thing you need is Charles going to the police—or the media—about you.”

“Yeah, I know. But I can’t stand by and do nothing while he bullies her and pushes her around.”

“You’re in a tough position.”

“What would you do if Harper had an ex like Charles and he was physically harming her?”

Jackson thrums his fingers on his thigh, thinking. Finally, he lifts his eyes to mine, his jaw tense.

“I’d kick his ass.”

“Exactly.” I sit back, folding my arms across my chest.

“But I’m not you, Xander. You’re still in the league, playing professional hockey. There’s so much on the line. Are you willing to risk it all on that asshole?”

“No.” I huff out a long breath, then lock eyes with Jackson. “Not for him. But I am for Rachel.”

Jackson whistles. “Damn, you’ve got it bad.”

I punch him in the biceps. “Shut up. I do not.”

“Yeah, I recognize that look. Bro, you’re in love with her. You’re willing to give up hockey—your career—to protect her. That’s love, man.”

I bite down on my lip and stare across the smooth ice, still unmarked by junior skates. Jackson may be right about this.

Finally, I meet his gaze. “Even though Rachel and I haven’t known each other that long, there’s something between us. Something different and real.”

“She’s great, Xander. I one hundred percent support the relationship. But don’t do anything you’ll regret later. All I’m saying is be smart about how you handle Charles.”

“Heard.” I stand, shoving a hand in my pocket. Kids and parents are wandering into the rink now, ready for practice. “Thanks for the advice.”

Jackson rises and squeezes my shoulder. “Anytime. And I’m happy to play backup. May be a good thing to have a witness.”

“Thanks. That’s a solid idea.”

“Hey, Coach!” One of the players waves over at us and we break our huddle to get ready for practice.

The hour flies by in a flurry of ice and skates and pucks. I teach Jett and a kid named Tommy the basics of blocking the net and then we scrimmage. Jett’s the goalie for my team and he does great, executing the moves I taught him. I can’t wait to tell Rachel after practice.

“Great work out there today, guys! Our first game is this Friday. One more practice until then, so be sure to make it.” Jackson high-fives the tiny players as they skate off the ice to their waiting parents.

I search the stands for Rachel, but she’s not there. Worried, I head over to the bench and rifle through my duffel for my cell. Sure enough, there’s a text from her.

Rachel: Had to stay late at work. Charles is picking Jett up from practice

Dammit.

I wanted to see Rachel, not that asshole. Although this gives me the perfect opportunity to confront him. Waving Jackson over, I drop my voice so only the two of us can hear.

“Can you stick around? Charles is on his way to get Jett.”

Jackson presses his lips together, nodding. “Absolutely. I’ll have Harper take the boys outside.”

“Probably a smart idea.”

Jackson and Harper confer for a minute and then she and the boys head to the parking lot. Now the rink’s empty, save for me and Jackson. He sits on the bench, scrolling through his phone, but I can’t relax. Instead, I pace back and forth, flexing my fingers.

Five minutes, then ten pass. This fucker is chronically late. What a self-centered dickhead.

Finally, Charles strides in. His cell’s in his hand and he doesn’t bother glancing up from the screen as he walks toward us.

“You’re late. Again.” I growl the words and the angry sound echoes off the ice, bouncing around the empty arena.

He pauses, tucking his phone into the pocket of his suit jacket.

“Where’s Jett?” His head swivels around the rink, searching. “Rachel didn’t pick him up, did she? That would be on-brand for her. Interrupt me at work only to have her show up and snatch him.”

“No, Rachel’s not here.” I stalk toward him, Jackson lurking in the background. He stays put on the bench, but I know he’s witnessing the exchange.

I square up with Charles, toe to toe, straightening to my full height. I’m easily six inches taller than him and a whole helluva lot bigger and stronger.

“It’s just you and me right now.”

Charles narrows his eyes at me. “Where’s my son?”

“He’s with Harper. We need to talk, and I’m pretty sure you don’t want your son to hear what I’m about to say.”

“That you’re fucking his mom?” Charles leers at me.

I press my lips together, white-hot anger rolling through me. I don’t like this guy and his attitude’s really pissing me off. Taking a deep breath, I maintain hold of my barely-there composure.

“What I’m doing with Rachel is none of your damn business and not a topic for discussion.”

“Cut the bullshit, hockey boy. Where’s my kid? I’m busy and it’s late.” Charles flicks a glance at his watch.

I take another step forward, inching into Charles’ space. “Keep your hands off Rachel.”

“What?” He frowns, acting innocent. “What are you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about. She has bruises all over her arms and I know they’re from you manhandling her.”

“She’s always been a klutz. I’m sure she ran into something. I didn’t touch her.”

“Stop lying. Be a fucking man and own up to your shit. You hurt her and if you do it again, I promise it will be the last time.”

“Or what? What are you going to do about it?” he sneers.

In one quick move, I grab him by the lapels of his jacket and lift him off the ground an inch. His heels kick at the air and his face reddens.

“Put me the fuck down!”

“Good, I have your attention, fuckface. You will not touch Rachel again. Understand?”

He takes a shuddery breath, nostrils flaring. “I’m not saying I touched her. And if you don’t put me down right the fuck now, I’m pressing charges.”

I shake him a little, his perfectly coiffed hair falling out of place. “I don’t think you’re hearing me, asshole. Rachel’s not your little rag doll to toss around. Keep your fucking hands off her or you’ll regret it. I promise you that.”

A vein pops on his forehead as anger flashes across his face. But he knows he’s in no position to argue at the moment.

“Fine. You can have the bitch. She’s a lousy lay anyway.”

Tightening my grip on his jacket, I lean in so close to his face I practically have a microscopic view of his pores.

“Shut your fucking mouth. Rachel may tolerate you, but I sure the hell don’t have to. Stay away from her. And if you ever hurt her again, you won’t be able to make a fist for a long damn time. Maybe ever. Are we clear?”

“Whatever.”

I rattle him one more time. “I said, are we clear?”

“Fine.”

I set Charles down, satisfied he got the message. Jackson wanders up, grabbing Charles by the elbow.

“I’ll take you to Jett. And don’t try anything slimy, Charles. I saw the whole thing go down—Kovac didn’t hurt you. In fact, if I were him I would have cold-clocked you in your stupid face. Remember—I have his back, and Rachel and Jett’s. Not yours.” Jackson’s voice is flat and deadly serious.

“I should nail you both for assault.” Charles scowls. “But you’re not worth the effort. Take me to my kid.”

Jackson leads him away and I slump against the wall, adrenaline pumping hard through my veins. Hopefully, our little chat was enough to get the point across. Because I’m not sure I can confront Charles again without throwing a punch.