Fallacy (Apprehensive Duet Book 1) (10 page)

Ever since she called me out about tricking her into going to Tanner’s, I’ve seen a change in her. I thought she would’ve been angrier, but she let it go pretty easily. Letting me off with a warning. But when she let it go, she also let go of a little bit of the wall she has built up around her.

Our relationship seems to have gotten a little stronger from one small fight. I think it has something to do with the fact I owned up to my fuck-up. I noticed the surprise on her face when I apologized. Seemed like it was the last thing she was expecting. But something about my apology thawed her a little. Like it wasn’t something she was used to.

“What happened this time?” I ask, returning my thoughts to her shitty day at work. I wonder what way her father found to undermine her now.

“He overheard my secretary relaying a message that a client called while I was at lunch. They had a question regarding the profit margin,” she explains. I can hear her pacing as she talks. “He stormed into my office and demanded the file. He told me he was transferring the file to Simon since I apparently couldn’t explain things to them properly. It was such a crock of bullshit. I didn’t even get to speak to the client to find out exactly what their question was. He just pulled it from me.” I hear the frustration in her voice.

“Angel, why do you put up with all this shit?” I ask. “Because I’ve been wondering for months now. I’m sure you can find a position with another firm where you’re valued and treated properly.”

Quinn’s an incredibly driven woman. Her work ethic and desire to succeed are commendable and sexy. But I hate that she takes all her father’s shit. She loves her work, and she’s excellent at it from everything I’ve heard her say, but her dad keeps holding her down.

“Because if I do that, he wins,” she grumbles. “It means I gave him enough power to push me out of what’s supposed to become mine. It has always been a known thing I’ll get the company. But he’s making me work for it and really putting me through the shit along the way. If I give up, then I prove his point that he doesn’t think I can handle it.”

“But at what point do you decide enough is enough?” I ask wondering how much any person can handle, let alone Quinn. She’s not one to bite her tongue. I’ve seen her tell someone, on more than one occasion, things your average person wouldn’t say. With the way she’s described her father, he seems like the type to push her buttons until she explodes, giving him an actual reason to punish her.

“I’m not sure honestly. I’m just so used to it I’ve learned to deal,” she explains with a sigh. “Whenever Daddy has his panties in a wad, he gets his rocks off by making my nine-to-five life a living nightmare. This week has been one of these times. Everything is wrong. Nothing I do is good enough for him, when in reality it’s me who’s not good enough for him. But I’m proud of the fact I can make the man crazy. He deserves crazy because he’s a piece of shit. He doesn’t have any other way to control me and keep me under his thumb, so this is how he tries to accomplish that.”

Seems he has more control over her than she thinks. I don’t know how the backstory between the two of them goes, but it appears she wants to hate her father and convinced herself she does, but in actuality, she does everything to prove herself to him. He seems like the kind of arrogant asshole who enjoys making her jump through hoops for his approval. I don’t know enough to judge, though, so right now isn’t the time for me to interject my opinion on the situation.

“Just do me a favor and promise me if it gets to be too much, you’ll consider other options. It’s all I’m asking,” I say.

“Starting over somewhere else is a scary thought. Have you ever given thought about moving up the chain with the Jets or moving to another team?” she inquires. I can sense she needs to focus on something else by the way her voice drops down. Almost as if she’s embarrassed for not wanting to start over somewhere new.

“I’d love to be considered for a head trainer job, but I don’t think I have enough experience yet. Besides, Art, our head trainer, is one of the best in the league. He’s very well respected; no one is getting that job until he retires.” I laugh. Art is a tough son of a bitch. I think he may drop dead on the sidelines before he actually retires.

“What about with another team?” she asks.

“I’ve never given much thought to it really. I think I have a while to go before I’m considered for a head spot anywhere. I haven’t been offered one, and I like my team. I’ve been there for five years, ever since Tanner got me an interview after his rookie season. I’ve got an excellent relationship with the players and the staff. But I didn’t get into this for the title,” I tell her.

“Why did you get into this? You ever play football?” she asks, surprising me. Quinn usually tries to avoid in-depth personal conversations. She’s always seemed guarded, so I never pushed for too much info. I’ve just taken openings when they’ve presented themselves, like now, for example. Having her ask me something as simple as why I decided to become a trainer is thrilling for me. Her showing more interest in me means she’s coming around to realizing there’s something real happening between us. Otherwise, I don’t think she’d care in the least about my motivations.

“I played football with Tanner until high school. I wasn’t good enough to keep going, and I didn’t want to be the bench warmer, so I stopped playing,” I say. “But every Friday night, I went to the games, and I would see kids get hurt, and my first thought would be, ‘That sucks. I hope they aren’t out long.’ Then I got to thinking and decided I wanted to go into some kind of sports medicine.”

“Wow,” she laughs. “I’ve never heard anyone admit so easily they weren’t good enough for something. Most people don’t have that much self-awareness.”

“There was no point in lying to myself,” I chuckle. “I was decent for Pop Warner football, but not high school. I would’ve been a bench warmer or gotten hurt if I ever actually played in a real game.”

“It’s nice to know you’re a reasonable person,” she acknowledges.

“Thanks,” I say with a smile. I’d be lying if I didn’t say I’m ecstatic about the fact I surprise Quinn. I can tell she’s used to a certain type of guy, and her expectations are low. It leaves me with a lot of room to work with in winning her over.

Alex

THE SOUND OF Quinn’s voice haunts me. The distraught, panicked, devastated shrill of it while she told me Ashley had been in a horrific accident, has been echoing through my mind since we hung up. I’ve been trying to calm Tanner down for the last four hours, all the while part of me is breaking inside because my girl is going through all this pain alone. I may not be an actual MD, but I have a lot of medical training. Based on what little Quinn was able to tell me over the phone, Ashley’s injuries are severe. I just hope they were able to get them under control since we took off. The last update Quinn sent me said Ashley was still in surgery.

This one accident is going to alter all of our lives in some form or another, changing everyone irrevocably. Tanner’s close to a breakdown. One minute we’re celebrating a Super Bowl win and the next we’re trying to find the fastest way from Miami to New Jersey. He’s done nothing but blame himself since I had to inform him what happened. The look on his face when I told him Ashley has been in a terrible car accident and is clinging to life will be an image I’ll never forget. Pure agony. It’s the only way I can describe it. I’m the one this hits most indirectly, so I’m going to have to step up and be the one who holds these two together for the next few days.

I watch Tanner’s face as the cab pulls up in front of the hospital. What little color was there has all but drained as he takes in the building. I can’t imagine the pain he feels right now. We exit the car, and he just stands there staring at the emergency doors. The ominous feeling of life and death surrounds the entire building. His demeanor says that as much as he wants to go in, he doesn’t. Out here there’s still hope everything will be just fine. Going inside and hearing what is actually happening can kill any little glimmer of hope he’s holding on to.

“Come on, buddy. We need to head in. Quinn needs us, and we have to find out what’s going on,” I tell him, trying to guide him through the doors.

After entering the hospital, I stop at the first desk I see and ask where we need to go. “Head to the end of this hallway and make a right at the end,” the older gentleman explains just as my phone starts to ring in my pocket.

Seeing it’s Quinn, I answer as I grab Tanner’s arm and drag him down the hallway while she explains the doctors are ready to give her an update but want to know where the baby’s father is. I know deep down that means bad news.

Tanner’s brain must’ve started to function again because by the time we reach the end of the hallway, he’s the one dragging me.

Barreling around the corner, my girl comes into view, and my heart cracks when my eyes land on her. She’s pacing in circles, and I swear I can hear her murmuring to herself. Her face is red, and her eyes are swollen. Her hair is up in a crooked ponytail, and she’s in what looks like pajamas. My body kicks into overdrive with the need to feel her in my arms. I race toward her and wrap her up, crushing her body to mine.

The moment I have her in my arms, her entire body deflates, the strength she’s been using to keep herself together evaporating. It’s okay. She doesn’t need to be strong right now. I can do that for her. I’ll do everything I can to make this easier because I’m just thankful I can hold her in my arms right now. She could’ve just as easily been in the car with Ashley or been in an accident all on her own. Life is precious, and you never know when you see someone if it may be the last time.

We only get a minute together before the doctor emerges again. After confirming who’s who, he starts off telling us about Ash’s many serious injuries. He barely finishes his first sentence before Quinn gasps and tears fill her eyes. I wrap my arm back around her, pulling her to my side, and extend my other arm to grip Tanner’s in support as well.

The doctor gives us the list of Ashley’s injuries – the broken arm, dislocated knee, ruptured spleen, collapsed lung, but thankfully nothing seems to be life threatening … until he gets to the fact she has a brain injury. As soon as the words leave his mouth, Quinn starts to sob heavily. The doctor stops his explanation while I do my best to calm her. She’s the medical power of attorney; she needs to be the one understanding everything he’s telling her.

Once I get her settled down a little bit, he continues, “Ashley’s brain went without a sufficient amount of oxygen for a while and also suffered trauma from the impact itself. There’s some swelling. We’ll be watching carefully to make sure the swelling doesn’t get to a point where we need to alleviate the pressure by opening her skull. The brain hypoxia is more of a concern right now. We won’t know the extent of the damage it caused until she wakes up—if she wakes up. More often than not, people with extreme hypoxia have permanent brain damage. We’ve done what we can, but from this point on, it’s all on her.”

By the time the doctor has finished his explanation, Tanner is a sobbing mess. I’ve never seen him like this, and I’m not sure any words will console him at the moment. The grief in the room is suffocating.

“Tag, calm down.” I try to break through to him while keeping my own emotions in check. “She’s going to pull through. I know it.”

“She’s too stubborn to go like this, Tanner,” Quinn adds in. “She’s going to wake up.”

Pulling his eyes from the floor, he looks directly at the doctor and asks the question that has been burning on everyone’s mind. “What about the baby?”

I watch the doctor’s face, which was already looking pretty exhausted, morph into a look of sadness as he tells us the baby didn’t make it. Everything goes a little chaotic for a few minutes. Quinn crashes into me and breaks down, and I watch Tanner as the doctor escorts him back to Ashley’s room. His eyes meet mine, and all I see is utter anguish. I try to tell him how sorry I am and that I have his back through this whole thing with my eyes.

The sadness enveloping us all is heavy and oppressive. While we’re all extremely thankful Ashley is okay for the moment, it’s difficult to be grateful when an innocent life has been lost before it had the chance to begin. This is going to change both Ashley and Tanner’s lives forever. I’m not sure how a person even begins to heal from something like this.

“You may head back too if you’d like,” an older nurse with a gray bun comes out to tell us.

I look down at Quinn’s tear-stained face to see what she wants to do. She doesn’t answer, just nods her head slightly. Keeping her tucked into my side, we follow the nurse back to where Ashley’s room is. The nurse nods toward Ash’s room and then leaves us on our own.

As we step closer to the door, we can hear Tanner talking. He’s talking to his son’s lifeless body and telling him all about Ashley. “I think we should let him have this time alone,” I whisper in Quinn’s ear.

She nods her head in agreement and then looks up at me with the saddest most beautiful blue eyes. “This is so unfair,” she cries.