Marek (Cold Fury Hockey #11)(65)

I hiss across the bed at him, “She is far too young to be ice-skating.”

Marek flinches slightly, but the accusation in my voice doesn’t cow him. Instead he leans across her bed and in a soft voice replies, “I was her age when I first started skating.”

“And you’re a hockey player,” I throw back at him sarcastically.

“She could be a hockey player too,” he throws right back at me, the anger evident in his voice.

“Both of you need to chill out,” Josie says as she steps up to the bed. Her voice is soft but menacing as her eyes cut down to Lilly, who is staring at us with wide eyes. “She’s scared enough as it is.”

I take a deep breath, refusing to look at Marek. His hand comes out to rest on Lilly’s belly, where he rubs in slow circles.

I lift my chin and ask Josie, “What’s the extent of the injury?”

“She’s got a two-centimeter laceration going through her upper lip, extending into the skin just above it. I’ve called in the plastic surgeon on call and he should be here soon. I can most likely stitch it up, but I figured why not have a professional do it.”

Shifting my gaze to Marek, I grit through my teeth, “And just how did she get cut?”

“It was an accident,” Marek explains in a hollow voice. “We were ice-skating and two little boys were chasing each other, and one of them ran into her. She went face first down into the ice and I think her tooth is what cut the lip. It’s a little loose.”

My stare turns murderous. He had one job today, and that was to keep our daughter safe. He has a game tonight and wanted to spend the day with her. I thought nothing of it. Well, actually…I thought it was sweet. I’m sure Marek could have had a million things to do on his time off today, but he wanted to spend it with Lilly. I just never thought it would include a plastic surgeon needing to reconstruct my daughter’s face.

Even as ridiculous as I know I’m being, I can’t help but lay the blame on him. She’s never been hurt like this and the math is very simple. I’ve had her for almost four years with nothing major happening. He has her in his care for one day and we’re in the emergency room.

I turn back to Josie. My voice sounds calm and assured, and this is strictly for Lilly’s benefit. “Okay, thank you. I think that sounds like a good plan.”

My attention turns back to Lilly, and I lean over her once again to press my lips to her forehead. When I lift up I murmur to her, “Let’s get you fixed up, baby. It’s going to be okay.”



* * *



—

Even though my hands are itching to yank Lilly away from him, Marek carries her in the front door. I walk behind silently, followed by his parents. Marek had called them when he couldn’t get in touch with me and they had shown up at the emergency room not long after I had. They followed us back to Marek’s house, probably concerned more about Marek and me than Lilly. After she was stitched up, she was perfectly fine. The scarring should be minimal, according to the surgeon, and he gave her a huge lollipop that had her smiling.

But the conversation between Marek and me was completely stilted, and it was probably evident to his parents that things between us were tense. While I didn’t say another word to Marek about taking Lilly ice-skating, it was obvious to everyone in that room that I was pissed as hell about the situation.

“We need to talk,” I say to Marek as his parents close the front door behind us.

“Here,” his mom says briskly as she holds her hands out to Lilly. “We’ll take her into the kitchen and maybe fix a snack. You hungry, Lilly?”

Lilly nods with a sweet smile, her hands reaching for Joan. Marek reluctantly releases her, scrubbing a hand through his hair with a frustrated huff once she’s in her grandma’s arms. I don’t say a word, but head into his room, knowing he’ll follow.

When I hear the snick of the door shutting, I turn to face Marek, who is now leaning back against it with his arms crossed defensively over his chest. He doesn’t wait for me to go on the offense, instead giving me his most droll, condescending voice imaginable. “Let’s hear it, Gracen. Get it off your chest so we can move past this.”

His indifference to my anger pisses me off and I stomp up to him, going to my tiptoes and getting right in his face. “You should have asked my permission before you took her ice-skating.”

“Let me guess,” he drawls with a cocked eyebrow. “With the benefit of hindsight, you’d have said no, right?”

“I would have said no,” I growl at him. “Regardless of hindsight. She’s three years old.”

“She’ll be four in a few months,” he mutters.

“And she’s far too small to be on ice skates,” I continue, ignoring the fact that she is a bit older than I’d said. “You should have asked me first, and if you had, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

Marek decides to go on the offense, dropping his arms and pushing away from the door. He backs me up across the room without touching me, just advancing forward as he says, “I cannot believe you’d even think to blame me for this. It was an accident, Gracie. Kids get hurt.”

“So says the man that’s been a dad for mere days.” I stop and plant myself, causing him to halt inches from me.