Page 133 of Forever Offsides

“How do you mean you need her?” I press, furious by that and doing little to hide it. Quinn was in an accident and is unconscious in the ICU, and he’s thinking of himself.

“Quinn’s perfect, Dad. She’s exactly what I need. I can’t lose her. Not right now. Not when everything is finally starting to come back together.”

“Okay,” I drag out the word because that seems… off. Does he honestly think he has her? Is there more going on between them than she’s told me?

I can’t imagine that.

So what the hell is he talking about?

I give a yay, rah-rah speech to the team because even though it feels as though my world is falling apart and I’m terrified beyond rational thought, the team won and put in the work, especially the defense. I’m proud of them.

I go up to my office, shower and do everything in my power not to throw anything or punch a fist through the tile. I can’t handle the thought of losing her. Of her being hurt and scared, and I’m not there with her to hold her fucking hand.

It’s wrong.

My not being there with her is wrong.

But I can’t exactly go charging in either. Goddammit!

I get myself dressed and go down to the podium because that’s what I have to do. And I swear to fucking hell, if someone mentions Russel and Quinn, I’m going to lose my mind.

I love him, but he doesn’t deserve her. He doesn’t know her. Not anymore. I’m not sure he ever did. He doesn’t know her heart or her mind. The things that make her smile or laugh. He has no clue about her quirks or all the incredible things that make her Quinn.

I know those things.

They’re mine just like she is.

By some merciful saint, they don’t. They ask questions about the game and how I feel about it. Typical bullshit I can barely stomach but manage through.

I explain that Mason will not be speaking tonight due to a family emergency, ask for privacy and respect for the family, and head off the podium.

I climb in my car and grip the wheel for a very long minute. I can’t go home. She is my home. There’s no way I can go to my house. Not until I see her. Not until I know what’s going on.

41

RHETT

Ipeel out of the lot and wind my way through the back way they have for us that avoids all the postgame traffic. I go to her hospital when I don’t actually know if she’s there. I’m going based on an assumption and praying to god that I’m right.

I park nearby and jog into the ER because I have no clue where else to go. “Hi, I’m here to see Dr. Quinn Reyes. She was in an accident.”

The woman behind the desk blinks at me. “Are you family?”

“Um—”

“He’s with me,” someone calls out from the open double doors. I glance up to find a nurse with curly brown hair up in a ponytail and warm brown eyes. “Rhett, you can come with me. I have to bring this patient in, but it’s okay.”

I don’t ask questions, and she clearly knows who I am. She called me Rhett. Not Coach or Jones or anything else. Does she know about Quinn and me?

I follow her inside the patient area of the ER, which is bustling. She’s pushing an elderly woman in a wheelchair. I hate it here. My parents died in the ER after a car accident so to say I’m not functioning well with being here after my girl was in an accident is an understatement.

“Mrs. Hart, how are you feeling?”

The woman glances up and over her shoulder at the nurse with a dour expression. “Oh, not so good, dear.”

“What’s bothering you today?”

“It’s my foot.”