Playing for Real - Book 2

Chapter 23

Cash 

"Where is she?" I muscle my way past the doctor before he can even fully open the door. My gaze darts around the waiting room, but Quinn isn't there.

Aiden shoots to his feet when he sees me. "She's in the hospital room—"

I ignored him and charged forward, only to be intercepted by her classmate Nadia. "Hold on a second," she orders, planting her palm against my chest. "What the hell happened?"

"Move it, Nadia," I snap.

"They're running a few more tests," Aiden says grimly. "We've been told to wait."

We? I glare at Aiden. Who does this fucker think he is? And what the hell is he doing here anyway?

"Like I give a shit," I say. "I need to see my girlfriend."

"We all want to see her," Nadia says calmly. "Aiden and I rushed over here as soon as possible after the hospital called and told me Quinn was admitted. Now, please tell me what happened."

"After hockey practice, I received a text from Daniela. She wrote me that she hated me, she was getting deported, and that she was in Boston. She came to our house, pounding on the door, and demanded to talk to me. Quinn let her in—"

"She let her in?" she asks. "Where the hell were you?"

"I wasn't home," I mutter. "Daniela was furious and upset and looking for me. She's not exactly the most stable person."

Aiden's mouth tightens. "Quinn has an open skull fracture because of this woman?"

Fury sizzles up my spine, ripped from my throat in the form of a menacing growl. "Get out of my way." I hate this little fucker.

"Cash!" Nadia shouts as I sprint toward the short hallway. "She needs her rest..."

The thump of my footsteps drowns out the rest. I burst into Quinn's room, then skid to a stop when I saw the bandages around her head and IVs connected to her tiny arm. She lifts her head at my entrance, and the desolate look in her big green eyes shreds my heart.

"Mittens," I say softly. I'm on the bed before she can blink, drawing her into my arms and wrapping her close. She buries her face against my chest, and I can feel her trembling.

"You're here," she says against my shirt.

"Yeah, baby, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere." A curse slips out when I remember how I found her, blood oozing from her head, her on the floor, semi-conscious.

"Daniela... she's getting deported. She was so upset. Where is she?" Quinn asks with a quiver in her voice.

"Arrested," I mutter. Then I take a breath and smooth my hand over her silky hair. "They brought her to the mental health ward at the hospital for further observation. She's finally getting the help she's always needed. I'm sick to my stomach that she hurt you. That I wasn't there. That this happened because of me."

"Don't say that," Quinn whispers.

"It's true. She hurt you because of me."

Quinn rests a hand on my arm. My skin is ice cold. She gives me a soft, comforting stroke.

"Cash...you showed up and protected me." Her voice cracks. "She called me a home-wrecking whore."

Fury slams into me like a cross-check to the chest. It takes every ounce of strength to push it away, to banish it from my body.

"You are not a home-wrecking whore." I take another breath. "There would have to be a home to wreck for that to be true. Do you hear me, Mittens? You are not that. Ever. She was like a sister to me and nothing more. Now, she means nothing to me at all."