Page 77 of Playing the Player

“Sasha!” I snap my head back to Olivia with a glare. The security guard turns, meeting my eye. For fucks sake! I was so close. I’ve never wanted to strangle her more than I do now.

“You can’t go through here, miss.” The man says in a gravelly voice that sounds like he’s been smoking fifty a day since he was pushed out of his momma.

“Yes I can.” I walk on, feigning control and importance. If I look like I’m meant to be here, maybe he’ll believe that I am. It probably won’t work but it’s worth a shot.

I don’t even make it three steps before two large hands circle my upper arms, dragging me back. “Don’t touch me!” I lash out, pulling my arms free from the man’s grasp. “I need to make sure he’s okay.”

“The ice is restricted. It’s for officials and players only.”

“Just turn your head the opposite way for thirty seconds and act like you didn’t see anything.” I plead with him. Puppy dog eyes activated, working my charm. “Please? I need to know Conor isn't hurt.”

“Nice try.”

“Sash, let’s just go. We’ll wait around back.”

“No, Olivia. He’s clearly hurt,” I fling my arm back in the direction of the ice, “He needs me.”

“Unless you’re a paramedic, he doesn’t need you.” The security guard says. God, I wanna punch him in the face but I don’t think I could reach.

I look at the man’s name badge attached to his uniform and then train my eyes up at his face again. “Look, Otis,” Really? Otis? I was expecting something a little scarier like Bain or Lucifer, not fucking Otis, “My boyfriend is out there, clearly hurt, I need you to let me past right now.”

“Ma’am, if I have to tell you again, I will remove you from the building.”

I square my shoulders, “How will you do that if I don’t give you permission to touch me?” I fire back, acting like an entitled brat.

“I would have no issues picking you up and carrying you out of here. It wouldn't be too hard.” He shrugs. “My son is five and probably bigger than you.”

“Oh, ha ha. Funny man.” I retort with a sarcastic laugh, “Not the best height joke I’ve heard but maybe all that altitude sickness has got to your head.”

He steps forward with a look of thunder on his face at the same time as Olivia grabs my arm, pulling me away. “That’s enough, Sash.” She hisses, dragging me back down the tunnel. “What is wrong with you? Why are you acting like that?”

“Because he’s hurt, Liv. I can’t just sit and watch like everyone else. I need to be with him.”

“Because you love him?”

I stop walking and just stare at her. “What? I don’t love him.”

“Oh please. You were the only person who realized he was hurt. You were watching him instead of the game. I’ve never seen you so worked up like you are now.”

“I’m supposed to be his girlfriend, Olivia. How did you expect me to react?”

“Supposed to be his girlfriend or are his girlfriend?”

“We’re friends. I care about him. I don’t love him though, not like that.”

“Okay.” She says, holding her hands up in surrender.

“I mean it.”

“I said okay.” She sighs heavily, “Let’s just go around back and see if we can get any more info.”

We walk to the back of the building, where an ambulance sits waiting at the exit. Fuck, he must be really hurt. My heart is hammering in my chest. Every second of waiting feels like an hour.

The back door of the arena finally swings open. Conor appears on a stretcher and my heart drops into my stomach.

He’s pale, wrapped in a blanket with his eyes closed.

I instinctively move towards but get stopped once again by another two security guards. I don’t even argue this time. I just stand there and watch as the stretcher disappears into the ambulance.