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“Casey?” Asher grabs my attention, beckoning me across the room. “What did they say? What’s happening?”
“She’d had to go in for some procedure. I don’t know.” I shake my head, feeling sick. “I didn’t understand everything the doctor said, but she needs it, and it’ll keep her safe or stop infection or… I don’t know. I don’t know.” I sink into the seat opposite Ethan, burying my hands in my hair and dipping my chin so I don’t have to look at anybody. “Shit.”
Mikayla moves to sit beside me, resting her hand on my back. I have no idea when she showed up, but I let her comfort me because I feel like I’m gonna lose my mind if she doesn’t. Her calm, steady circles on my back are stopping me from tearing my hair out and wailing at the speckled linoleum floor.
Watching Caroline in pain was a suck-fest of mammoth proportions. I’ve never felt so helpless in my life.
“It’s gonna be okay, man,” Asher murmurs. “She’ll be okay.”
“Yeah.” I grit out the word. It’s all I can manage right now.
And then everything just gets worse.
“Hi, we’re looking for our daughter, Caroline Mason.”
My head pops up, the air leaving my lungs in a whole different way as I stare at their backs. Her father is tall, wears a sports jacket that denotes his age. He looks like he must be in his fifties already. Shit, they’re probably closer to my grandparents’ age than my mother’s.
His hair is speckled gray while hers is a short bob that frames her round face. Caroline said people couldn’t tell she’s adopted, but I can. I can see the differences, see how she has a uniqueness about her that doesn’t belong to them.
But there’s her mom—just the woman she wanted to see.
So, I stand.
I hitch my pants and feel my chest constrict as I step around Mikayla and approach them.
“Mr. and Mrs. Mason?”
They spin at the sound of my voice, both surprised for a moment, trying to figure out who I am. His gaze feels critical as he eyes my tattooed arms, then looks at me like maybe he knows me. But then he spots the blood on my shirt and pants—Caroline’s blood—and the color drains from his face.
“Are you the one who brought my daughter to the hospital?” Mr. Mason croaks.
“Yes, sir.”
“You called us.” Mrs. Mason’s voice is soft and wispy, her hand fluttering as she holds it against her chest, her eyes darting from my bloody shirt to my face.
“Actually, that was my friend Ethan.” I point behind me, and Ethan stands, giving them an awkward wave.
They nod, then turn their attention back to me. The worry on their faces is pretty painful, so I quickly fill them in as best I can. I do a shit job and end up wincing, my words petering out to a pathetic finish.
“I know what a D&C is,” her mother murmurs. “I’ve had a few in my time.” Her expression buckles, and she starts blinking like she’s gonna cry. Her husband touches the back of her neck, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I hate that she has to go through this, Ronnie. Our little girl.”
“I know, sweetie.” He pulls her close, kissing her forehead as she tucks herself against his chest. “She’ll get through this just fine. She’s a fighter.”
Mrs. Mason sniffs and nods, sucking in a shaky breath. She can obviously feel her daughter’s pain in a way no one else can. Is that why Caroline wanted her here?
“So, are you the hockey man? Or do you play basketball?” Mr. Mason’s gruff voice pulls my gaze toward him, and I notice the sharp dip of his eyebrows when he asks. I can’t help feeling like he already recognizes me. Caroline said he watches the college games, but there’s something dangerous in his glare that warns me of the facts. I’m not just a Nolan U Cougar anymore. I’m one of the guys who slept with his baby girl.
Oh fuck, she really did tell them everything, didn’t she?
My lips part as I try to process this shit.
“I’m, uh…” I lick my lips and finally sputter, “Hockey. I’m the hockey man.”
Her father’s eyes take on an even harder edge.
Shit.
I look away from him, wondering how I can explain all of this. Wondering what exactly she said.
