Chapter 23

Reed

“Just wait a minute,” I say to Marek as he slams the rental car door shut. I’d hopped out of the passenger side as soon as he put the car in park.

He turns to face me over the roof of the car, the steeple of St. Luke’s Catholic Church rising high behind him. I take a deep breath and let it out, “Just…before you go in there, I got to know. Are you going to try to make something with her?”

I’m referencing Gracen, who right now is just moments away from getting married and without any idea that Marek is getting ready to cause havoc in her life. While I think Josie definitely had some merit last night in pushing Marek to come here to New York, I’m not looking forward to dealing with the fallout. I don’t think Marek is going to walk away from this in one piece, no matter what happens in there.

His eyebrows rise as if he’d never even considered my question. He shakes his head. “No, I’m not going to make something with her. I broke it off and left that far behind.”

“You just flew five hundred miles to stop a wedding. You did not leave it that far behind.”

Marek puts his forearms on the roof of the car. “Look…I left her behind and don’t regret it, but it doesn’t mean I don’t still care for her to some extent. I don’t want her to marry this asshole. Trust me, Reed, he is very bad news and she shouldn’t settle for that.”

“Not buying it,” I tell him as I also put my forearms on the roof. I lock my eyes with his. “You don’t stop a wedding like this unless there’s something more there. I just want you to be prepared for the fallout this is going to cause, and, dude, if you’re in denial about having something with her, you better reason that shit out in your head before you go in there.”

Marek stubbornly shakes his head again. “I don’t want a relationship. It’s too hard, particularly with our hectic schedule and being away from home so much. It’s too much pressure, and I don’t want it. I only want to focus on my career. Besides, you know we’re hardly the types of guys who are relationship material. Look how many divorces happen on our team, or cheating while on the road. Why even bother with that shit? My theory is you keep it casual because we have enough on our plate concentrating on our game, and fuck if I don’t want another Stanley Cup this year. I can’t be worrying about a woman and my game at the same time.”

On the surface of his statements, it would be easy to roll my eyes at him for being so shortsighted, but sadly, there’s something in what he just said that speaks to me. I’ve been thinking a lot these past two days about my talk with Aiden, and all the ways in which I’m failing Josie. I mean, how many other ways are there that I don’t even know about yet?

All of this presses down upon me. I can actually feel the weight of my worry, wondering if I’m going to do her right in the long run. Will this worry intensify or work itself out? Do I have what it takes to put my efforts into my career and into making something with Josie, for whom I care about very much?

Like Marek, I want another fucking Stanley Cup too. This year the pressure is going to be incredible, because it’s next to impossible to win three in a row. It hasn’t been done in almost three decades.

“You get what I mean?” Marek asks me, and I have to nod. I sort of get where he’s coming from.

“Just don’t want you to get hurt in there, is all,” I tell him. “Making sure your expectations are met.”

“My expectations are I stop her from marrying this prick and then she goes on to lead a long, happy life without him.”

I don’t point out that he failed to add, “with someone else.” I wonder if that was intentional or subconscious.

Regardless, I can’t let that bother me right now. I’ve got to make sure Marek comes through this all right.

“Okay,” I tell him with a confident smile. “Let’s get this done.”

I follow Marek into the church. He walks with purpose and as if he knows where he’s going. The first thing he does is walk through the vestibule to peek through the double doors to the sanctuary. When he pulls back, he says, “Hasn’t started yet. Come on.”

He then heads down a hallway on the right, takes a left, and goes down three doors to a door that says CLASSROOM 1. Looking at me, he grins, “This is where the brides always get ready.”

“And you know that how?” I ask him.

“Many years as an altar boy in this church.”

I nod and Marek boldly pushes the door open. He slips in and I follow him, shutting the door behind us.

My eyes immediately go to a woman—a bride—standing by a window that looks out over the church playground. She’s got both hands on the window sill and her head is bowed as if in contemplation.

She doesn’t look up at us but says in a quiet voice, “I need five more minutes, Bev.”

“You’ll need more than that,” Marek says in a hard, gritty voice. “Because you aren’t getting married today.”

Gracen spins around to face us and her wide eyes lock on Marek without even looking at me once. Her petite frame goes stiff and I’m struck by how beautiful and sad she looks at the same time. She’s short like Josie, but her hair is golden and wound up in an intricate-looking style topped by a jeweled tiara. Her eyes are strikingly blue, same as Marek’s.

“What are you doing here?” she gasps in disbelief.

“Heard you were going to make the stupidest mistake of your life and I came to stop you,” he answers blandly, as if he stops weddings all the time.

Gracen’s eyes narrow to tiny slits and she takes two menacing steps toward Marek as she grits out, “You have no right. You gave that up a long time ago.”

“Consider this a public service duty, then,” Marek says as his eyes flash hotly back at Gracen. “Owen Waller is a douche, and frankly, I can’t believe your family would even give you their blessing on this. Everyone knows the guy is a bad seed.”

“He’s a fine, upstanding member of our community,” she retorts as she stops before reaching Marek. She clasps her hands in front of her, looking suddenly serene and at peace with her decision to wed today. Marek snorts in disgust. “He’s a spoiled, entitled pig who still preys on the weak. For fuck’s sake, Gracen. He used to beat up kids for their lunch money. He bullied everyone that wasn’t as rich or popular as he was. He’s so far up his own fucking ass he’ll never make you a priority.”

Gracen’s face is flushed red and I expect her to defend her fiancé, but she merely says quietly, “This isn’t any concern of yours. I’d appreciate it if you’d leave.”

Interesting. She’s not denying any of the things Marek just said, which means she knows she’s marrying an asshole.

“Call the wedding off,” Marek says with a dark smile. “And I’ll gladly leave.”

“I’m sorry you came all this way to tell me your opinion, but I’m marrying Owen today and nothing you say is going to stop me.”

For the first time, Marek’s confident facade slips and his expression grows dark. He opens his mouth and I brace for whatever is about to come out, because I know it won’t be good.

But then the door opens and a tiny, dark-haired girl peeks in. “Mommy…Aunt Bev said it’s really time this time. You have to come and she said no more stalling.”

Marek glances at the little girl and then back to Gracen with smug pride on his face that apparently Gracen’s not as anxious to get hitched as she is making it out to be. But then the smile instantly slides off his face and his head snaps back to the little girl, who has now walked into the room.

His eyes narrow, which makes me turn to look at her more closely.

Dark curly brown hair. Crystal blue eyes. Dimples in her cheeks.

Fuck. It’s a mini-Marek standing there in a little white dress!

Gracen brushes between Marek and me to reach the little girl. She bends over and kisses her on the head. “Okay, baby. I’ll be right out. Tell Aunt Bev I just need five more minutes.”

The little girl rolls her eyes and grumbles, “That’s what you said the last time.”

“I know,” Gracen says as she turns her toward the door and gives her a little push out. “But I promise this time. Five minutes.”

Gracen shuts the door but doesn’t turn to face us. Her head bows and her shoulders hunch in defeat.

“Is that…is that…” Marek stutters, unable to actually form the words that could put into reality something he’s not ready to really hear.

Lifting her head and turning to face Marek, Gracen says, “Your daughter? Yes.”

Every bit of blood drains out of Marek’s face and the blue in his eyes goes flat. His jaw drops, and for a moment I think he might pass out. But then the hothead I know surfaces, and his eyes turn almost red with rage.

“That’s my fucking daughter?” he hisses at her, and it’s done with such fury that Gracen shrinks back until the door stops her. “I have a fucking daughter and you never thought to fucking tell me?”

Marek takes a step toward her and I honestly don’t know what he’ll do, so I jump between them. I put my palms to his chest and give him a little shove back. “You need to dial it back, buddy. Before you do something stupid.”

He’s not dissuaded and he merely leans his head to the right to look past me. He points an accusing finger at her and I notice it’s shaking. “There is no good reason that bitch should have kept that secret. I had a right to know.”

Jesus, this is fucking whacked. I don’t even know what to say, because Marek did have a right to know.

But his outrage apparently prompts Gracen to her own fury. She pushes her way right in between us and pushes Marek in the chest. My arms fall away and I stand poised ready to break up what could turn into a physical fight.

“You have no right to stand up there on a pedestal, Marek Fabritis, and act like you’ve been wronged,” she yells at him furiously. Her face is beet red and her eyes are filled with tears. She blinks once and they fall, and she rubs at them with the backs of her hands as she continues. “You left me. You didn’t want a relationship with me, and in case you have forgotten, your exact words, you asshole, were, ‘I don’t want the responsibility of a relationship. I don’t want to have to take care of someone other than myself right now.’ So I took what you said at face value, you smug, self-righteous prick, and I made a decision not to let my daughter’s heart get broken by a daddy who didn’t want the responsibility.”

I cringe internally over those last words, and Marek seems to deflate, taking a step back from Gracen as he looks at her almost blankly.

Gracen on the other hand is still red with fury and her chest is heaving with indignation while tears continue to course down her face.

“What’s her name?” Marek asks so softly I can barely hear him.

Now it’s Gracen who deflates, and she looks like she could just melt into the floor with exhaustion. Still, her voice is stronger than Marek’s when she answers, “Lilly.”

“Lilly,” he murmurs to himself, as if testing the weight of it on his tongue.

All three of us jolt when the door flies open, and this time there’s a hulking bear of a guy standing there who I’m going to guess by the tuxedo is Gracen’s fiancé. He’s as tall as Marek and me but twice as thick, especially in his belly area. Still, it looks like if a fight were to break out, he could get some good punches in before Marek could take him down.

And I’ve seen Marek on the ice. The fucker fights with uncontrolled fury.

“What the hell is going on, Gracen?” the guy asks as his eyes lock on to Marek with clear distaste. “Lilly said there were two men here in the room, and everyone in the church is waiting.”

There is no mistaking the clear condescension in his voice as he talks “down” to Gracen, and I know in that instant Marek is right. This guy is a patronizing dickhead.

Gracen doesn’t respond, but brings one hand up to her forehead where she rubs the bridge of her nose. I guarantee you she’s sporting a massive stress headache right now.

“Get your shit, Gracen,” Marek says with quiet command. “Get Lilly. You’re both coming with me.”

Gracen’s hand falls away and her head snaps up to look at Marek in disbelief. Owen takes a step toward her and holds his hand out. “Gracen…come here to me. You and I are getting married, and it’s happening right now.”

“She’s not fucking marrying you, and I’ll be damned if you think you’re going to raise my kid,” Marek growls as he takes a step toward Owen.

I immediately place myself in his path, stiff arming him with a hand to his chest. Thankfully, he halts.

“Gracen,” Owen says in a placating tone. “We love each other. This is our big day. Don’t let him ruin it.”

I watch Gracen’s face closely. A sign that what Owen just said is true. That they love each other. I don’t get a single bit of acknowledgment in her blank gaze back at him.

“Gracen,” Marek says, and his tone is not placating. It’s hard, ruthless, and not receptive to any argument. “You either come with me right now, or so help me God, I’ll use every dime of the considerable fortune I have to take Lilly away from you and you’ll never see her again.”

I cringe again, this time visibly, and I can’t control the groan of dismay that comes out of me. “Marek…dude. Not cool.”

“Make your decision, Gracen,” Marek says with so much ice in his voice that I have to suppress a shiver. He pushes past me and opens the door. “I’ll be waiting in the car. You have five minutes to decide.”

And with that, Marek walks out the door and slams it shut behind him.

I sigh and rub the bridge of my nose, trying to forestall a headache that’s forming. I’m going to spank the shit out of Josie for even thinking this could be a good idea.