Page 151 of Test the Ice
My heart aches to reach for Malaki, my legs begging me to rush over to him so I can feel his arms around my waist. I want to bury my nose into his shirt and be engulfed in his familiar scent. But instead, I hesitate. I force him away.
“Malaki. You can’t be here right now.”
He comes to a sudden stop, his fingers clamped onto his tie. “What? Why?” He glances at the bailiff, who is becoming impatient. “Is it not open to the public?”
“Nothing good is going to come of you being here.” It pains me to say it, but it’s the truth.
With Benedict's words playing ping-pong inside my head, I know that Malaki sitting in the courtroom will only provoke him further.
Malaki runs a hand through his hair, and from the looks of the messy ends, he’s been doing it for hours. “Stop it,” he says.
I furrow my forehead. “Stop what?”
“Stop pushing me away.” His jaw tightens. “I’m not letting you do this alone.”
“You’re just going to make it worse.” I force between tight teeth. “This is my thing to deal with and–”
Malaki steps forward, his hand gently grazing my forearm. “With all due respect, this isn’t just your thing to deal with anymore.”
“But–”
“You and Charleigh are a part of my life, Reese. No matter how it started or how it ends. So I’m staying.”
“Ms. Moreno.”
The bailiff reaches the end of his patience. He opens the door and gestures for me to head inside the courtroom.With a fleeting glance in Malaki's direction, I head through the doors, even more worried than before.
Forty-Nine
MALAKI
I may findmyself in a similar courtroom if I get my hands on Benedict.
The number of times I’ve pictured myself choking him out is enough to forbid myself from ever being alone in an empty room with him anytime soon—or ever.
The judge slams his gavel, and Reese jumps.
I squeeze my fists, my fingers aching from how tight they are. I’ve never endured torture like this.
Skating suicides for hours before I threw up? Shitty. That time I took a puck to the nose and gushed blood on the ice? Hurt like a bitch. Hearing Reese tell me to leave the courthouse? Knife to the heart. But watching her struggle up there alone? I’d rather die.
“Mr. Whitney, since you filed the emergency motion, you may proceed.”
Instead of Benedict standing up and speaking to the judge directly, it’s his lawyer.
“Your honor, my client fears for his child’s safety and well-being.”
My teeth grind against one another.This fucking asshole.
“Ms. Moreno is erratic, indecisive, and impulsive. Just the other day, the child was in the emergency room getting stitches–”
“Do you have evidence of that?”
The judge is calm, but I’m shifting in my seat every few seconds. Reese’s head is hanging low, but she remains quiet.
The bailiff takes a paper from Benedict’s lawyer and hands it off to the judge. He scans it and then eyes the lawyer once more. “This is proof of the child being in the emergency room. This isn’t enough evidence to say that the mother did something to cause the injury or that the safety of the child is jeopardized. Was Children Services called?”
“Well, no–”
