The Girl Who Always Wins (Soulless Book 13)

by Victoria Quinn

  My hand went to her flat stomach, feeling it vibrate when it growled again. “Guess my baby is hungry.”

  “Ugh, I’m always hungry.”

  “You want me to cook something?”

  “No. Because that would require you to leave.”

  “Then how about I order something?”

  “Pizza?”

  “Whatever you want.” I reached for my phone on the nightstand.

  “Ooh, what about Chinese?”

  I swiped up on my phone so the screen would light up. “Chinese it is.” I picked my favorite restaurant and added my favorite entrée.

  “Wait…how about Italian?”

  I chuckled. “I’m down—”

  “No! I want Mexican food. Tacos.”

  “Are you sure this time?”

  She considered it as her stomach growled. “Yeah. I just need to pick something. Otherwise, she’s going to kick my ass.”

  I ordered something then handed her the phone.

  She picked what she wanted then completed the order.

  “What did you get?”

  “Tacos,” she said. “A fried ice cream—”

  “That sounds good—”

  “Chips and guac and flan.”

  “Damn. Good thing I’m a billionaire.”

  She gave me a playful smack on the stomach. “Shut up, you know I’m worth it.”

  “You’ve got that right.” I set the phone back on the nightstand then returned my focus to her. I lay on my side, bringing us close, the light from the living room illuminating our figures in bed.

  My arm tightened on her lower back, feeling that sexy curve with my entire palm, bringing her close so I could smell my scent on her. The pain stopped throbbing. The sadness was quenched. As if I’d never been heartbroken, she put me back together. “I missed you…so much.”

  “I missed you too.” Her hand moved up my neck to cup my face, her thumb brushing against the scruff of my shadow, her eyes shifting to my lips. She looked at me like an actress in a movie, pretending to love the man beside her with all her heart. Except she wasn’t pretending. She wore her heart on her sleeve and showed just how much she loved me. “Can I sleep over—”

  “Like I’d ever let you leave.” I tugged her a little closer, far more possessive than I’d been before.

  Her eyes softened just the way her heart did. “My dad told me you told him.”

  “Kinda pulled it out of me.” It was easy to forget that Dr. Hamilton was her father because I had my own relationship with him, had my own connection before I even met her. I’d rejected his affection often, pretended I didn’t need it, but the truth was, his kindness had been a godsend during this lonely time in my life. I wouldn’t know what to do without it, and I would probably never have to worry about that happening.

  “He does that. It’s the gaze.”

  “Yeah.” The same gaze she had. “There’re a lot of things he does that remind me of my dad. Sometimes it feels like he’s still here.”

  Her fingers cupped my face, her eyes showing their emotional affection.

  “He calls himself my godfather, so I guess that makes sense.”

  “Aww…”

  “Yeah, he’s something else.” That man had given me everything, when I’d given him nothing in return. He gave me my dream job, gave me my dream woman, and then he gave me everything else that I’d been missing.

  “He’s an exceptional person, but he wouldn’t do that with just anyone. He has so much on his plate, three kids he’s still invested in, my mom. He’s not doing it because something is missing or because he has nothing else to do. He’s doing it because he genuinely loves you like a son. I can tell by the way he talks about you, how he defends you the way he defends my brothers when I complain about them.”

  “You complain about me often?” I teased.

  “I just mean in the past…”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “But I’ll probably complain about you more because you’re still an arrogant asshole sometimes.”

  “True. That’s not going to change anytime soon.”

  “Good.” She smiled. “Because I kinda like it.”

  “Oh, I know.”

  “Just the way you like it when I’m being a crazy-ass bitch.”

  I pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “Can’t get enough of it.”

  The intercom buzzed from the other room.

  “Yes!” Right on cue, her stomach growled again.

  Naked, I left the bed and hit the intercom so the delivery guy could get into the elevator. My clothes were pulled on, and I grabbed some cash from my wallet to give him a tip. When the doors opened, the exchange happened, and then I set the food on the dining table.

  She came out a moment later, dressed in my clothes, pulling it off like lingerie. “Mmm, smells good.” She dropped into a chair and opened her container so she could get to work on her feast.

  I sat across from her and did the same.

  “What are you doing?” She looked across the table at me, disappointed.

  I stilled before I pushed my container toward her, assuming she wanted some.

  “No.” She pushed it back. “Why’s your shirt on?”

  A smug grin came over my face before I pulled it off again.

  “Ahh, there.” She stabbed her fork into her food as she checked me out.

  We fell into comfortable silence, eating the hot food that had been delivered, a view of the city lights behind her. I’d stared at those alone so many times, felt the loneliness in my soul as the darkness consumed me. When my divorce was finalized, I’d stood at the window and looked at the world that felt out of reach. Now I looked at it with her in the foreground, beautiful and perfect.

  “Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”

  Her question brought me back to reality.

  “You said you didn’t want kids. Why didn’t you tell me you couldn’t have them instead?”

  I took a few more bites, thinking of my response. “I didn’t want your pity. Pity makes people feel obligated to stay.”

  “I wouldn’t say that…”

  “Whether I want them or can’t have them, the outcome is the same, so I didn’t think it made a difference. Besides, what kind of person wants to admit something like that, especially a man?”

  “This situation is painful to everyone. It’s not gender-specific.”

  “Yes. But it’s still emasculating.” I kept my eyes on my food, not wanting to talk about this anymore. I was happy. That was all that mattered now.

  She seemed to pick up on my mood because she didn’t make another comment. “I have a tournament in a few weeks in Atlantic City…if you want to tag along.”

  “Yeah? I can sit in the front row and watch you kick ass?”

  “Yes. But more importantly, you can fuck me when I’m off the clock.”

  “Ah, my real purpose.”

  “Exactly. You’re my one and only groupie.”

  “Well, I’ll take it. Sounds like a good time.” I wondered if her ex would be there because I’d love to meet him face-to-face—and tell him to fuck off. He’d had his chance with my woman—and he blew it.

  I was exhausted.

  Was up pretty much all night.

  But I couldn’t call in, not today, not when I had so much shit to do.

  Dr. Hamilton walked in wearing a hoodie and jeans, pulling on his lab coat as he went to his station across from me. His goggles were placed on the table beside him, and he lifted his gaze to give me a glance. “You look a lot better.”

  “I do?” I asked, wondering if he could see the bags under my eyes.

  “Yeah.” He took a seat and opened his notebook. “You and Daisy worked things out?”

  “Yeah, we did.” She woke up beside me that morning and stayed in bed while I hit my home gym. When my alarm went off, she kicked me under the sheets then rolled over and went right back to sleep.

  “Good.” He gave a nod then opened his notebook, getting to work like t
he conversation was over.

  “You’re okay with this?”

  “With what, exactly?” He looked up as he grabbed his pen and clicked the end of it.

  “That she wants to be with me even though I can’t…you know.”

  He stared at me blankly, as if he didn’t understand my meaning. “I support whatever decision my daughter makes.”

  “But you must have talked to her about it.”

  “I did,” he said with a nod. “I tried to make her understand the weight of the decision before her, what she would be giving up if she chose to be with you. I told her my experience of having her with someone I loved…and it’s indescribable. I did my best to make her understand the sacrifice she would be making, a sacrifice that may not seem important to her right now, but will be important to her later. She said she was fine with it. I did my job.”

  “So, you were trying to talk her out of it.”

  “No. I was trying to protect you, actually. I didn’t want you to be with someone who would change their mind later, so I told Daisy she has to be certain. And she was.” He looked down at his notebook again, as if we were discussing the weather, not the future of his only daughter.

  “Well…thanks.”

  “Family is more than just blood, Atlas. My wife and I are unrelated, but I feel like we share the same heart, same soul, same everything. We’re a family—even without our kids. I understand this is difficult for you with everything you’ve been through, but not everyone has the same definition of family as we do.”

  6

  Daisy

  “What am I missing here?” I sat at my desk and kept flipping through the pages, trying to find something that made sense. Everything was negative. There was no MS. No autoimmune disease. Nothing. “What the hell is going on with this guy?”

  Alyssa spoke on my intercom. “Your next patient is ready for you.”

  “Ugh. Thanks.” I wished I had news for him or, at the very least, a plan of what to do next. I had nada. Zip.

  I gathered my things and went into the hallway where we had patient rooms. We didn’t wear white coats or dressy suits. We spent most of our time thinking in our offices rather than in patient interactions. I knocked on the door then let myself inside. “Hey, Darin. Always a pleasure to see you.” Most of my patients were quiet and depressed, understandably, so I tried to lighten up as much as I could.

  Darin sat on the bed in his gown, a balding man in his early forties. He gave a slight nod in acknowledgment.

  I inserted my stethoscope into my ears then listened to his lungs, which sounded good as always. The vitals the nurse had taken when he checked in were normal—except his heart rate. It was crazy high. “Had some caffeine today?”

  He shook his head. “No.”

  “Your heart rate is really high.”

  “Maybe because I’m in pain and no one cares.”

  I sat on the stool with his chart on my lap, knowing this was going to be a challenging day. He’d been my patient for a couple weeks, and honestly, I was nowhere close to figuring out his problem. Blackouts. Involuntary jerks. Just a superficial touch was enough to cause him pain. It seemed to be all over his body. “I care, Darin. Trust me, I do.”

  “Then what the hell is wrong with me?” His trust in me had disappeared, and now he stared at me like I was the enemy. “You guys are supposed to be the best, and I’ve been coming to you for weeks with no answers, no medications, nothing.”

  “Because I’m not going to give you medication without reason. That’s bad medicine.”

  He started to yell. “What the hell are you doing? You’re sitting in your office, doing what, exactly? You’re just as useless as the other doctors.”

  In any other situation, my temperament would rise like a fire-breathing dragon, and I’d scorch this guy to the bone. But I retained my compassion, my empathy, and understood his anger came from a place of long-standing suffering. “Darin, I will figure this out. It’s just taking me some time—”

  “Liar!”

  Okay, this was getting nowhere. I headed to the door. “I’ll give you twenty minutes to cool down.” I walked out the door and headed down the hallway. Sometimes being a doctor made me feel like a customer service rep—and I got screamed at when I couldn’t supply the right service.

  Footsteps sounded behind me, quick footsteps.

  Atlas rounded the corner at the end of the long hallway, concern on his face like he’d heard the man screaming all the way from his office. He stopped, his eyes widened, and then he sprinted. “Daisy!”

  I knew Darin was coming, so I turned around and slammed the chart right into his face.

  Stunned, he faltered back, his hands moving to his face.

  Atlas sprinted as hard as he could.

  Darin came at me again, this time throwing a punch.

  Everything Dad taught me kicked in like instinct, and I dodged his hit then gave him a quick series of blows. Fist to the eye, knee to the stomach, and then a good head slam to force him to the floor.

  He lay there, breathing heavily, his ass handed to him.

  I stared down at him, the chart tucked into my side, Atlas’s footsteps getting louder as he came closer. “Take twenty minutes to cool down, and we’ll get back to work.”

  Atlas reached me, his hands grabbing on to me, the look on his face manic. “Baby, are you okay?” He felt me everywhere, his hands cupping my face to look at me, to make sure there wasn’t a scratch.

  “Did you not see me kick his ass?”

  He was in no mood for jokes, and he pulled me into his chest, his arms circling me, his chin resting on my head. His hand cupped the back of my head as he breathed heavily, like he needed to comfort himself with this embrace.

  Everyone else came down the hallway.

  Atlas didn’t pull away, indifferent to people witnessing our affection. He pulled away and kissed me, resting his face against mine for a few seconds.

  Anthony and Tom rolled Darin over and examined him to make sure there were no serious injuries. He had a bloody nose and he looked too weak to get up, but that was the worst of it.

  Atlas finally let me go when he realized I was truly okay. “Discharge him from the clinic. He’s not our patient anymore.”

  “Uh, we aren’t doing that.” I rounded on him, the chart at my side.

  Anthony and Tom got Darin to his feet and walked him back into the patient room.

  Atlas gave me a fiery look I’d never seen before. “He attacked you.”

  “And I beat his ass. No harm done.”

  That old look came on to his face, the one he used to give when we were enemies, like I was the biggest pain in his ass. “We don’t treat patients who don’t respect us, who would cause us bodily harm. He’s discharged. That’s final—”

  “If we don’t help him, no one else will. We’re his only chance—”

  “I don’t give a shit.” He threw down his arms. “He could have hurt you—”

  “Did you see what happened? He had no chance.”

  “This isn’t a goddamn joke.” He raised his voice, everyone and our assistants staring at the showdown. “I’m the director of this clinic—and I say he’s gone.”

  “Well, he’s my patient. And I say he’s not gone.”

  “What the fuck is wrong with you? You owe him nothing—”

  “I owe him a better quality of life. He’s frustrated and depressed. He’s been sick for a very long time, and that would demoralize anyone. It would make anyone crazy—”

  “You’re being crazy. And not the crazy that I like.”

  My eyes narrowed. “I’m going to see this through. You can’t stop me.” I stepped away from him and entered the patient room to continue our exam.

  Darin was on the bed, still breathing hard, a tampon up his nose to stop the bleeding.

  I sat on the stool and looked over his paperwork again. “Alright, are we ready to try this again?”

  Everyone stayed in the hallway while the door remained
open, exchanging words about what happened.

  All Darin did was give a nod.

  Atlas stepped inside and shut the door behind him. He gave me a furious look before he took a seat in the armchair, his arms crossed over his chest.

  “I can handle myself.”

  He stared me down. “If you want him to remain our patient, I’m in the room at all times. Take it or leave it.”

  Darin sat up in bed and played with his tampon, which was red with blood.

  I released an irritated sigh before I got back to work. “Fine.”

  At the end of the day, Atlas came into my office.

  Everyone had gathered their things and left the office. They all glanced our way, seeing Atlas and me alone together through the glass. When Shelly passed, she waggled her eyebrows at me.

  I wasn’t in the mood, so I ignored her.

  Atlas moved to my desk, as furious with me as I was with him. His powerful arms rested by his sides, and he looked at me with those dark eyes, eyes that were intense for a whole new reason.

  “Quite the day. Everyone knows we’re fucking…you think I can’t handle myself…and I’m still totally clueless as to what’s wrong with Darin.”

  “We aren’t fucking.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Not whatever. Our colleagues needed to know at some point.”

  “It’s none of their business.”

  “It is their business because we both know where this is going.” He came closer, his hard stare piercing mine.

  I knew exactly what he implied, but I ignored it. “You want to help me with this or not?” I held up the stack of papers that were practically hieroglyphics at this point. Everything was negative, but this man had something serious.

  “Not really.”

  “Then I’ll see you tomorrow.” I looked back at my work, ignoring him standing there.

  “His life isn’t more important than yours.”

  “I was never in serious danger.”

  “If you didn’t know how to fight, what would have happened?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” I lifted my gaze and met his. “Because I know how to beat a man twice my size. He can fuck with me all he wants, and I’ll wipe the floor with his blood. And even if I didn’t, I could have screamed for help and someone would have come—”