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."
"She hates me," she says, her voice barely a whisper.
"I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have gone to practice. I should have known Daniela was not okay..." My voice is low, rippling with anxiety. "I'm just so thankful I came back home when I did. If I hadn't..." I can't even finish my sentence.
My eyes sting with the threat of unshed tears. I kiss Quinn's lips and then her cheek, forehead, and the back of her hand. Oh, man, what happened tonight scares me. We've come so far—Quinn and I—as a couple. Through all the ups and downs and pain and tears and anger, there are so many things I wish I could have done differently. Things that make me wish I knew then what I know now. I wish my past didn't have to hurt everybody.
"I'm going to be okay," she says. "Because of you. You came home."
"Quinn..." I swallow. "Mittens, look at me."
She slowly raises her eyes to mine.
"Daniela is not going to get away with this. I won't let her. I'm here to protect you. You didn't do anything to deserve her verbal and physical attack, you got it?"
"I love you." She blinks rapidly, fighting back tears. "God. When you were holding me before I blacked out, I thought..." She swallows, unable to finish her sentence.
My palms grow damp. I don't want her to continue. I'm too terrified of what she's going to say. "Quinn, don't. You're safe."
"I am now." Quinn slowly runs one hand over my cheek, and her fingertips scrape the bristles of stubble on my jaw.
The tension in my chest lightens, replaced by a strange rush of warmth I couldn't explain if I tried. I release her only so I can peel back the sheets and crawl in beside her. Without a word, she shifts so there's room for me. I slide in behind her, curling one arm around her slender body and drawing her closer. She makes a contented noise and snuggles her ass to my groin, her back to my chest. Her hair tickles my chin. I lay there listening to the sound of her soft breathing and the steady beating of her heart beneath my palm.
Time passes, and I lose track of how long I've held her.
A doctor walks in, holding a clipboard. I sit up at the edge of the bed and slide over as the doctor approaches Quinn. A nurse with curly blonde hair walks over to Quinn's bedside and switches out the bag attached to her IV.
"You must be Cash Brooks." The doctor shakes my hand. He's tall and lean with thick black hair. "I'm Dr. George. Hello, Quinn." He offers her a friendly smile.
Her face pales. "Did the results from my MRI come back okay?"
He rubs a hand over his jaw, scratching the dark stubble there. "You've suffered a linear skull fracture. Luckily, you don't have any bone displacement. A small fracture in your cranial bone resembles a thin line."
She turns to me with sad green eyes
"Is she going to be okay?" I ask.
"The fracture could take three to six months to heal completely. We'll book Quinn for a follow-up MRI in a few months to ensure everything progresses properly."
I reach over to the bedside to squeeze her hand. It's cold. Trembling. She's scared. I don't want her to be scared. Everything is going to be okay. She will be okay. I will protect and take care of her. I stare at the wall across from me. I start to go numb.
The nurse adjusts her pillow. "Your other guests have patiently waited in the lobby to see you. Did you want any more visitors tonight?"
Quinn nods. "Yes, please."
"You will be able to go home in a few days," Dr. George says and then looks at me. "Do you two live together?"
"Yes, she's my girlfriend. We live together," I assure him.
"She will need a lot of rest. Not strenuous activities for the next few months."
"She will be well taken care of." I toss a grin in Dr. George's direction. "Am I able to spend the night here?"
Dr. George smiles. "Yes, Mr. Brooks. Of course."
Once Dr. George leaves the room, I capture Quinn's chin in my hand, tip her head back and press my mouth to hers.
The kiss I give her is soft and sweet. I'm not leaving this hospital room until she's healed and with me. She needs reassurance right now, and she needs to feel safe.
___________
The next day, Quinn's still a bit nauseous and tired. Aiden and Nadia haven't been to visit today, but Lyndsey had a FaceTime visit with Quinn a few hours ago. I haven't left Quinn's side since last night. She's sleeping now, and I'm flipping through a Hockey Time magazine for the hundredth time. I haven't eaten since yesterday, but I hate the idea of leaving her, even for a minute.
"Cash." Hilton's voice startles me, breaking the silence.
I texted him yesterday to tell him that Quinn was in the hospital and briefed him on what happened. He has yet to respond. And now here her father is, standing in the doorway.
"You came," I reply, unable to look at him. It's all my fault his daughter suffered a skull fracture. I'm the one person who was supposed to protect her, and I failed miserably.
"Tell me she's okay," he says, voice strained.
"She's still disoriented and shaken, but the doctor says she'll be discharged tomorrow."
Hilton leans forward and grips me in a tight hug. I stiffen at his warm embrace. This is new. It takes me a second to reciprocate the gesture.
"Thank you for contacting me," he says. "I know things between us haven't been great, and my relationship with Quinn has been strained lately. I've been hard on you, Brooks. I know you love her and feel guilty for what happened, but I promise you, you didn't let me down as her father. You saved her. And I know I've made you feel like you weren't good enough for my daughter, and I'm sorry. This isn't your fault. You're a good man, and you're perfect for her."
I don't even know how to respond. I'm in shock. I've been riddled with so much guilt over what happened. I never thought of what I did as saving Quinn.
He pats me on the shoulder as tears trickle down his face. Then he walks over to Quinn's bedside, picks up her hand, and sits in the empty chair. He runs a hand over his face to wipe away his tears. He kisses the top of her hand, and Quinn's eyes flutter open.
"Dad?" Her voice breaks the silence and the pounding in my head. Her hair is a tangled mess, and her sleepy face is perfect. "What are you doing here?"
"I came as soon as I could." Hilton's voice is hoarse. I can hear the pain laced in his words. "Cash contacted me late last night. I took the first flight I could get to Boston. I'm so thankful you're okay. I love you. You're my little girl. I'm so sorry we've been at odds lately. You're with a good man, Quinn."
A small smile tugs at her lips. "It's okay, Dad. I love you too."
She sniffles, and Hilton gathers her close. He runs a hand through her matted hair, pulling her tight against him. He glances at me with an appreciative smile.
For once in my life, I know everything will be okay.