Coach Reed was lying still on the ground, several of the assistant coaches crowded around him, everyone yelling or murmuring.
I broke into a run back across the field. “What happened?”
“He grabbed his chest,” Woods said, “just clutched at his heart and collapsed.” The quarterback’s eyes were wild as he searched around the field.
“Someone call an ambulance!” the offensive coordinator yelled.
I shoved at the small crowd that had gathered around Coach Reed until I had enough space at his head. I felt for a pulse, but there was none, and his chest was still, too still.
He wasn’t breathing.
He didn’t have a pulse.
Georgia’s beautiful face flashed into my head. What would she do if something happened to her daddy?
I sprang into action, pushing any thoughts away. I didn’t have time for what-ifs.
“Back up!” I screamed, pushing at the legs of the players who were crowding me.
My brain was on autopilot as I tipped his chin back and pinched his nose shut, breathing into his mouth and willing his own lungs to start working again.
I stopped to listen for any signs that he was breathing.
Nothing, just dead silence and the pounding of my heart in my ears. I blew into his mouth again, watching as his chest rose and fell with each one.
“Come on,” I murmured, “come on, Coach.”
I started chest compressions, each thrust accompanied by a quiet plea for Coach to come back. Beads of sweat rolled down my brow, my eyes burning, and I blinked hard, forcing myself to concentrate on the man lying in front of me.
I had to keep going, had to ignore the way my arms burned with each thrust, the way my lungs screamed with each breath. I couldn’t give up on him, wouldn’t stop until he sat up and started screaming at me again.
The image of Jamie, in a puddle of her own vomit, not breathing or moving threatened to overtake me, but this was not my sister who was dying in front of me. I shook my head, refusing to let that happen. I would do chest compressions and give him every bit of the air in my lungs until they pried me away from him.
“Quinn, paramedics are coming in.” Someone pulled at my shoulder, but I didn’t stop. I shook his hand from my arm and kept going, breathing into Coach’s mouth, his chest still only moving when I forced it to.
“Come the fuck on!” I shouted.
I was still working on him, my shirt now drenched in sweat, my arms numb, when the paramedics rushed in, their gurney squeaking, the noise ricocheting off the bleachers.
Only when the man who had dropped to his knees beside me quietly whispered, “Let me take over” did I stop.
Every ounce of the adrenaline that had coursed through my body during the entire ordeal was gone, and my arms and legs felt like wet noodles. I couldn’t find my footing, so I crawled away, collapsing myself just a few feet away from where the first responders continued to try to save Coach Reed’s life.
As they loaded him onto the gurney, still feverishly trying to revive him, I rolled onto my back and threw my forearm across my eyes. I couldn’t watch anymore.
All I could do was hope that I’d acted quickly enough and that I wouldn’t have to spend the rest of my life knowing that I was the reason Georgia lost her father today.
24
Georgia
The television screen in the waiting room flashed, the volume so low it may as well have been muted. I stood in the doorway, watching as Quinn paced back and forth at the other end of the room.
I’d been standing here at least three solid minutes, trying to find the right words to say to him. I was still trying to work it out when he suddenly stopped and spun to me, his blue eyes crashing into mine.
I swallowed and took a step forward as his long legs ate up the space between us in three strides. He wrapped his arms around me the moment I was within reach, and I buried my face in his chest. I’d held it together for the last few hours, but his embrace caused the dam that I’d built to crumble as though it were nothing more than a pile of sticks.
My arms wrapped around his waist as the tears that I’d held back for so long soaked the front of his shirt.
“I’m so sorry,” he murmured into my hair, his large hands rubbing circles on my back. I sobbed as I continued to cling to him, every thought that I’d refused to let enter my head swarming all at once.
“He’s going to be okay,” I finally managed to choke out through the sobs.
Quinn’s shoulders sagged in relief, but his grip on my waist never loosened. If it hadn’t been for those strong arms that were locked around me, I wasn’t sure that I would have even been able to stay on my feet. “He’s going to be okay,” I repeated.
It wasn’t for him but for me.
I needed to hear it, over and over again.
My father had had a massive heart attack. According to the cardiologist who had performed the bypass surgery, he’d been one of the only seven percent to survive.
Because Quinn saved his life.
A strangled sob tore through me again as it hit me.
The man who was holding me up had saved my father’s life today. My daddy was still alive and breathing, would make a full recovery and live to endure more of my endless teasing and torment because Quinn Miller had acted quickly and saved his life.
I couldn’t handle the gravity of it, and my knees buckled.
I should have known that Quinn wouldn’t let me hit the floor though. He tightened his already impossibly firm grip and hauled me up his chest, crossing the waiting room space to the empty couch, and settled us both on it.
“I’m sorry, Georgia,” he said again, his voice cracking. “I’m so sorry.”
Confusion washed through me.
Had he not heard me? I was in the middle of snot sobbing into his chest; maybe he hadn’t understood.
I leaned back and quickly scrubbed my hands across my face. “Daddy’s going to be okay.”
He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, his hand cupping my cheek. “Do you forgive me?”
My brows drew together as I tried to understand what he was asking me. “Forgive you for what?”
The color drained from his face as he cast his eyes toward the floor, unable to even look at me. “I caused this.”
I tipped his head up with my thumb and forefinger, leaning in so close that our noses nearly touched. “Mama’s meatloaf caused this. Daddy’s refusal to listen to his doctors caused this. The only thing that you did was save his life.”
He ripped his chin out of my grasp and shook his head violently. “No. I didn’t save his life. I almost took it. You don’t understand.”
He pushed to his feet and resumed the pace across the floor that he’d been in the middle of when I walked in, his head hung low as he squeezed the back of his neck.
When he passed in front of me, I grabbed his hand and stood, blocking his path, and put a hand on his chest. “I know about the screaming match you two had. That isn’t what caused his heart attack, Quinn.”
“I shouldn’t have lost my cool with him. He’s not the first coach I’ve had get in my face. It’s part of the game. But I just couldn’t keep my shit together, and I let my temper get the best of me. If I had just stood there, then––”
“Then he still would have had a damn heart attack.” I gripped his hand in mine and brought it to my lips, kissing each of his knuckles. These were the hands that had refused to stop trying to save my father’s life. If I kissed them every single day for the rest of my life, it would never be enough to convey my gratitude. “You aren’t the bad guy in this. There is no bad guy. Only a hero. You, Quinn, are a hero.”
His eyes widened as he tried to pull out of my grasp. “I’m no hero.”
“How did you know what to do?” I ignored his denial.
“After Jamie’s first overdose, I took CPR and first aid classes. It was years ago, but that kind of thing sticks with you when you have to actually use it on someone.”
He may never accept the hero title, but that wouldn’t change the fact that it was exactly what he was.
“Daddy’s awake. He wants to see you,” I told him softly.
I expected his refusal, had prepared to fight him on it, but he surprised me by nodding. “I’m going to tell him the truth.”
Shock reverberated through me. “You don’t have to.”
“Yes, I do. I’ve spent years lying and hiding the truth. I told myself that it was because it was my business and didn’t affect anyone else. But it did. My missed practices and fumbles and inability to focus on the game hurt everyone around me. Your dad, and the rest of the team, deserve to know the truth.”
My eyes filled with tears as I absorbed what Quinn was saying. I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat and asked, “Do you want me to go with you?”
The corner of his mouth tipped up, the first hint of a smile that I’d seen, and he asked, “If I said no, you’d insist on coming anyway.”
“I would respect your wishes; this is between you and Daddy.”
He kissed me, his mouth tender and sweet, and then engulfed me in a tight hug before wrapping his arm around my shoulders. “Everything’s better with you by my side.”
I melted into him as we made our way down the hall to Daddy’s patient room. Mama was at his bedside, and when I poked my head in, she jumped to her feet, throwing her arms around Quinn’s shoulders.
With her lips at his ear, she said something that made him pale, but he nodded and returned her hug.
“I’ll give you two a minute,” she said as she pulled away, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. She squeezed my arm as she walked past and quietly shut the door behind her.
“Daddy?” I whispered, settling into the seat that Mama had just vacated.
When I was growing up, my father had always been the biggest man I’d ever seen. He was a professional linebacker, then a coach, and it wasn’t just his physical size that made him appear larger than life. He had an intimidating presence that most people would shy away from.
But the man lying in the hospital bed hooked up to tubes and wires and machines suddenly didn’t look as big as he once had. He didn’t look as invincible as I’d always thought he was.
My heart twisted as his eyes slowly cracked open and crinkled in the corners, his mouth breaking into a smile. “Georgia, darlin’.”
I reached for his hand and held it between both of mine. When had he gotten these liver spots? When had they gone from the big, strong hands that used to swing me high in the air to the hand in mine, still strong but weathered from age? “Hey, Daddy.”
Quinn cleared his throat and stepped further into the room. “Coach.”
Daddy turned his head, the cheap hospital pillow rustling, and with more effort than it should have taken, raised his free arm to put his hand out. Quinn stepped forward and clasped it in his own, careful to avoid the IV that was in the back of his wrist.
“Hear I owe you a bit of gratitude,” Daddy rumbled, his voice thick.
Quinn didn’t let go of Daddy’s hand, but he shook his head and dipped his chin. “No, sir. You don’t owe me anything. If anyone owes anyone, it’s me. I owe you an apology and an explanation.”
My pulse began to gallop, the blood whooshing through my ears, and I swallowed hard. I was nervous, not because of how Daddy would react, but because I knew that this was a big deal for Quinn. His jaw ticked as he stood there, and I could practically see the gears turning in his mind as he worked out how to tell the man whose life he’d just saved his deepest secret.
When it had come to me, he’d had no choice. I’d practically beat it out of him. But here he was, about to volunteer information that I wasn’t sure he’d told anyone before, and however my father took it, well, it was going to have an effect not just on Quinn but on his career as well.
Daddy’s bushy brows drew together, and he jerked his chin to the edge of the bed. “Have a seat.”
If we hadn’t been in the ICU with my father, my childhood hero, and the man who I was unapologetically in love with at one of the tensest moments of my life, I would have laughed at the way Quinn perched uncomfortably on the edge of Daddy’s hospital bed.
“Sir, I’m sorry for losing my temper and screaming at you today,” Quinn started.
Daddy’s right hand was still in mine, but his left hand reached for Quinn and he patted his knee. I’d seen my father do that to my brothers time and time again; it was his way of offering support without smothering. Tears sprang to my eyes.
I didn’t know if it was the near-death experience that he’d just gone through, or if he just felt an immense gratitude to the guy who had saved his life, but whatever it was, that was Daddy’s way of telling Quinn that everything between them was going to be alright.
Quinn looked at where my father’s hand rested on his knee and then back at me, and through the tears that blurred my vision, I offered a smile.
“Things got heated between us,” Daddy told him. “I shouldn’t have accused you of using my girl over there to get time on the field. So, for that, I’m sorry.”
“Your daughter means more to me than a starting position on any team. I’d gladly warm the bench all season if it was the only way I could have her by my side.” The corner of Quinn’s mouth tipped up. “It was just really bad timing that we met right before you became the coach.”
Daddy’s fingers flexed in my hand, but he kept his focus on his player. “I’m glad to put that all behind us if you are.”
Quinn nodded. “Yes, sir. But there’s more that I need to talk to you about. My arrest…” His jaw ticked as he looked at a spot over the top of the bed. For a long moment, he stared silently at the wall, and then, with squared shoulders, he looked my father in the eye and said, “My sister is an addict. She has been since she was twenty. The drugs were hers, not mine. I’ve never so much as smoked a joint.”
They say the truth will set you free, and I had never seen a more shining example of that than I did when I saw the way the dark circles under Quinn’s eyes seemed to lighten up almost in front of my own eyes. The wall that he’d erected to guard his secret seemed to slip, and his eyes were brighter than I’d seen them, his spine straighter.
I couldn’t have been prouder of him in that moment than if he’d just won the biggest game of his career. He’d done something he’d avoided for years. He’d told the truth about his sister, about himself, and found a sense of relief that I imagine was like a breath of fresh air.
“All those times I missed practice or showed up late, it was because I was taking care of Jamie. The dropped balls? I just couldn’t get into the right headspace. I never told anyone though, because, well… she would have been mortified. We’d grown up in a poor town, but even poor towns have their outcasts, and we were them. The last thing she needed was everyone saying they’d been right about her all along. She’s all I have, and it’s my job to take care of her, to protect her. I let people think what they wanted about me because I could handle it. Maybe if I’d been honest from the beginning, I’d still be with the Cardinals.” He paused and looked at me. “Although, can’t say I’m too upset about where I ended up.”
He swallowed, and his chest expanded as he pulled in a deep breath. “I should have been up front with you that day in your office. I should have been truthful from the start. But I’m ready to face the consequences, no matter what they are. If I’m not the right guy to start this season, I accept that. But I promise, no, I swear to you, I will work my ass off for this team. No more secrets. No more lying. No more dropped balls.”
I held my breath while Daddy’s shrewd eyes looked Quinn up and down. Surely, he would take everything he’d just learned about his player and accept his apology.
Finally, after a few seconds that seemed like hours, he said, “That wasn’t easy, I know. I’m a coach, yes. But more than that, I’m a f
ather. My kids, all of them, but my sons especially, I always prided myself on the fact that they could talk to me about anything.” Daddy looked at me, his eyes glittering with unshed tears. “Imagine my shock when I found out that one of my sons was gay and didn’t think he could share that information with me. It was a dagger straight to the heart. But he had his reasons for keeping it to himself for as long as he did, just like I know you have your reasons. I hope, moving forward, that you’ll keep in mind that you can come to me with anything you have going on. I’m more than just your coach. At least I hope that’s how you feel about me.”
Quinn’s lower lip quivered, and he pressed them into a thin line and gave my dad a brisk jerk of his chin. “Yes, sir.”
Daddy clapped Quinn on his knee one last time, squeezed my fingers, and then crossed his hands across his belly. “I’m damn tired now. You two go on and get outta this hospital before you catch something.” He twisted his neck to peer at me. “Tell your mama to come back in here and sit with me a while before she heads home. I could stand a kiss or two and some of her quiet reassurance that everything’s gonna be okay.”
I sniffed, fighting the tears back, and stood, walking around the bed to stand next to Quinn. “Love you, Daddy.”
“Love you too, Georgia Rose. Even if you do make me a crazy person.” Daddy looked back at Quinn. “She’s my daughter, but I’d be a real asshole if I didn’t warn you that you’re getting a hell of a lot more than you bargained for with that one. Wouldn’t blame you too terribly much if you went ahead and cut and ran now.”
I laughed and wrapped an arm around Quinn’s waist. “Oh, no. It’s too late for this one, Daddy.”
25
Georgia
“I love the way it smells when it rains.” Jamie’s blue eyes sparkled in the last bits of light from the setting sun. I pulled the door open wider and poked my head out, sucking in a deep breath, marveling over how incredibly beautiful the sky looked just a few minutes after a quick summer storm.
The Hardest Play Page 17