#Player

by Cambria Hebert

  “I’m so glad your arm isn’t worse,” she said, her voice catching.

  “Takes a lot more than a lawn mower to bring me down.” I joked.

  She didn’t laugh.

  It was probably too soon for jokes. But that was damn funny.

  Before I could say anything else, another doctor in a white coat came into the room. This time a female.

  “Miss Hudson, the nurses told me you’d moved in here.” Her eyes moved toward me, and I gave her a lazy smile. She flushed and looked away. “Would you care to step over to your side of the room so we can talk?”

  Rim shook her head. “He can hear this.”

  The doctor nodded. “It appears your injuries are superficial. I saw no signs of internal damage or hypothermia. Though I would caution you to stay indoors and warm for the next few days.”

  “That won’t be a problem,” Rimmel muttered.

  “Your cheek doesn’t appear to have a hairline fracture like I originally thought.”

  I jerked upright. “What?” I ground out.

  The doctor seemed startled by my sudden outburst, but Rimmel barely moved. She just reached over and patted my chest like she was humoring me. “It’s fine.”

  I knew Zach had hit her—the bruise on her face was proof—but just the mention of it breaking a bone in her face made me want to find him and pound him all over again.

  “Calm down,” Rimmel said out of the side of her mouth and then turned back to the doctor. “Go on.”

  “The swelling should go down quickly and the bruises will fade. The rope burns on your torso and stomach…” The doctor slid a glance at me before quickly looking away. I took a deep breath. “Will also go away, but I would recommend some simple medicated cream for the area where the skin was rubbed raw.”

  Tension was building in my body, so much so that it was hard to sit still. I wanted to get up and pace. Yell.

  “I can do that,” Rimmel said like she was just having some conversation about oranges and not the state her body.

  “I saw no signs of a concussion, so there’s no reason to keep you overnight. I would like to check your torso again before you leave, but beyond that, I’ll get your discharge papers ready.”

  Rimmel stood from the bed, and the one thing anchoring me was no longer there. I got up and started pacing.

  Rimmel gave me a look and sighed. She turned to the doctor. “You can check me over here.” She went over toward her bed, and the doctor followed. I started across, but Rimmel shook her head. “I’m fine, and you’re already mad enough.”

  Then she slid the curtain closed and blocked her side of the room from sight.

  It was cute she thought a curtain was going to keep me from seeing what those ropes did to her.

  I started forward, about to rip away the stupid fabric, when my doctor and a few nurses came in.

  “If we could have you sit down over here, Mr. Anderson,” the doctor said, “we’ll get this arm immobilized.

  I glanced back at the curtain before swearing under my breath and going to sit down. Rimmel might have managed to evade revealing exactly what Zach had done to her right now, but she wouldn’t be able to put me off forever.

  Chapter Three

  Rimmel

  I was naked.

  Well, okay. I wasn’t naked.

  I was wearing a grossly thin hospital gown.

  So basically, I was naked.

  (Can’t a girl get away with a little dramatics after she was hung from a pole and blasted with an icy water hose?)

  I had clothes, but they were soaking wet and ruined. Plus, every time I looked at them, I remembered everything that happened at the field.

  If I had a garbage disposal, I would probably attempt shoving them down and grinding them up until they were nothing more than shreds. But I didn’t have a garbage disposal and neither did Romeo, so I consoled myself by balling up the drenched garments and shoving them in the small trash bag beside the bed. It was probably a barf bag.

  But my clothes were pretty much the same.

  Unfortunately, that left me wearing this hospital gown. There was no way I could walk out of here in this, so I used Romeo’s phone (mine was MIA, along with my glasses) and called Ivy.

  She answered on the first ring.

  “Romeo?” Ivy gasped. The loud noise in her background seemed to halt.

  “It’s me, Ivy,” I said.

  “Ohmigod, Rimmel! What happened? Are you okay?”

  The light sound of voices floated behind her, and I couldn’t help but wonder. “Where are you?”

  “I’m in the waiting room, duh!”

  “You’re here? At the hospital?” I was surprised. How did she know I was here?

  “Are you kidding? Of course I am. Me and half the college. There is seriously not one spot open in this waiting room. I heard some people were waiting outside.”

  I peaked around the edge of the curtain. Romeo was resting on the bed, his parents at his side. His mother caught me looking, and I jerked back around behind the safety of the cloth.

  “How does everyone know we’re here?”

  “The BuzzBoss has been blowing up the AlphaBuzzfeed for hours about it. Romeo’s car driving to the hospital is not to be missed. And the way the cops swarmed the field… My God, Rimmel, I thought somebody was dead!”

  “No one’s dead,” I said dryly. Then I thought about Zach. I actually had no clue what condition he was in.

  “Then why have you guys been back there so long? Seriously. People have started ordering pizzas.”

  I laughed. “Are you serious?”

  “The nurses are pissed,” Ivy said, but she was clearly amused.

  “Hey, that my little sis?” someone yelled in the background.

  Ivy made a disgusted sound. I smiled as I pictured Braeden pushing through the crowd of people eating pizza and toward Ivy. Braeden was probably Ivy’s least favorite person.

  “So what—” Ivy began to say, and then her muffled outraged yell came through the phone.

  “Rimmel?” Braeden said into the line.

  “Hey, Braeden.”

  “Girl, I was about to go Rambo on somebody’s ass out here. No one will tell us anything.”

  “Why didn’t you just come back?”

  He hesitated. “I wasn’t sure what kind of shape everyone was in.”

  I heard the worry in his voice, and I felt bad for making him wait so long. He deserved better than that. “We’re okay. Well, I am. Romeo is injured.”

  Braeden sucked in a breath.

  “Why don’t you just come back?” I said. It would be easier to let him look at Romeo when he learned about the break. At least then he could see Romeo was going to be fine.

  And he would be fine.

  He had to be.

  “Will do, tutor girl.”

  “Braeden?” I called before he could go. “Romeo’s clothes are wet. Do you have anything he can put on?”

  “Yeah, I got a duffle in my truck. I’ll bring it in.”

  “Thanks, Braeden.”

  “You sure you’re okay?” he asked. There was way more perception in his tone than I realized he possessed.

  “It’s been a long night,” I replied wearily.

  “Here’s blondie,” he said, and then Ivy came back on the line.

  “Jerk face!” she snapped. “Rimmel?”

  “Yeah. Hey, Ivy, I was calling because I don’t have any clothes. All mine got ruined. Is there any way you can go get me something at the dorm?”

  “I have some stuff in the car. I can grab that for you.”

  “Awesome. Just tell the nurse I called and asked you to bring me some clothes.”

  “See you in a few,” she said and then hung up the phone.

  I laid the cell on the bed and stayed behind the curtain. Romeo’s parents were still with him, and I wanted to give them some time alone.

  A sudden feeling of loneliness washed over me. I didn’t have any family here. If it weren’t for Ivy, I p
robably wouldn’t have had anyone to call for clothes. I missed my mother. I knew she’d be here right now if she were alive.

  Her father killed her mother.

  The echoed words cut me like a knife. My father was all I had left besides my grandparents. I just couldn’t stand the thought—the implication—that he would dare take my mother away from me.

  I sat down on the bed, my feet dangling over the side, and I looked down at my hands. My wrists were rubbed raw from where they’d been tied. I’d struggled, desperately trying to get free from the rope that bound them. One wrist was rubbed worse, and it was now wrapped. After the doctor looked at it a few minutes ago, she decided it should be covered just to keep the germs out of it for a while.

  My fingers ached and felt stiff from the cold and trying to untie the knots. In fact, my whole body felt sore. Like I’d done an intense three-hour workout. The doctor said that was normal because my body had been tense for so long as I hung and that my muscles would hurt for a few days.

  Inside the white, itchy socks the hospital gave me, my toes were cold, and I thought longingly of my white faux-fur boots Romeo gave me. I glanced over at the fur-lined boots I’d been wearing earlier that night—the only article of clothing that survived being tossed in the barf bag earlier—but they were soaked and I wasn’t putting my feet in them.

  I hopped down off the bed and my socks slid against the white tile floor. I caught myself on the side of the bed, but my side brushed against the mattress, and I hissed a little because my ribs and upper abdominals were really tender. Even through my clothes, my skin was rubbed raw. I hadn’t seen the marks fully, only what I could by looking down at myself. It almost looked like I had some raging rash, the way my skin was mottled and irritated.

  Once I was steady, I walked over toward the small wardrobe against the wall and opened up the door. On the inside, there was a tall mirror, and I braved a peek at my reflection.

  I knew it was going to be bad, but it was way worse than I thought.

  I was almost fortunate that my vision was blurry from the lack of glasses on my face. Seeing the mess that was me with full clarity probably would have scared me.

  I stepped up close until my toes almost bumped the door and studied myself. My cheek was black and blue. Funny, I never thought the color purple could be ugly until I saw this shade. I saw now why the doctor had originally thought my cheekbone was cracked.

  No wonder I’d stayed out so long when Zach hit me.

  The top of my cheekbone was swollen and the bruise extended all the way around my eye. There was a cut in the center of the purplest part, and I wondered if perhaps my glasses had broken when he hit me and that’s what cut my skin.

  It was cleaned and a small butterfly bandage taped over it. Funny, I didn’t remember the nurse even putting it there. Of course, when I was first led back, all I could think about was Romeo and his arm. Well, that and the fact that I’d been tied up and hanging from a pole.

  I could still feel the icy-cold water pelting me, rushing in my face and nose, as I hung there unable to do a thing.

  They’d given me some kind of shot, but I don’t remember what was in it. It might have been pain medicine, because by the looks of my face, it should hurt a lot worse.

  My eyebrow was slightly puffy and the other side of my face was pale white, the only color coming from the tired ring beneath my eye.

  And my hair.

  I mean, really.

  It needed its own zip code. It was matted, half wet, half dry, and hung in clumps over my shoulders. I never really made an effort, but this was bad even for me.

  My eyes traveled down the front of my hospital gown, which embarrassingly enough, I could see my hardened nipples through because I was so cold. God, I hoped I hadn’t looked like this the entire time the doctors were in the room.

  My ribs were hurting and the skin on my stomach burned. I grabbed a handful of the gown and started to hoist it up to see the damage, but loud voices out in the hall caught my attention.

  “They asked for me!” Braeden yelled.

  It took me a minute to place his voice because I’d never heard it that angry before.

  “What part of sister do you not understand!” he yelled a few seconds later.

  On the other side of the curtain, Romeo cursed. “They won’t let Braeden back.”

  I dropped my gown and rushed through the room, past Romeo’s parents, and for the door.

  “Rim, wait,” Romeo called as I threw open the door and skidded into the hallway.

  “You better go ahead and call ‘em, then,” Braeden growled as he towered over a nurse. “Because I’m not leaving.”

  Beyond him, I could see Ivy bouncing from foot to foot with a bag in her hand. She saw me and waved. “There she is!”

  Braeden’s head snapped around, and the anger in his gaze made his dark eyes bottomless. “Rim,” he said, and some of the darkness receded. A look of horror replaced it. “Your face,” he practically gasped.

  I resisted the urge to cover my injury and motioned for him.

  “Nursezilla here doesn’t believe you’re my sister,” he growled.

  The nurse turned to me with a huff. “Sister?” she asked sarcastically.

  “Actually, yes,” I said with bold confidence.

  Her eyes rounded, and she glanced back at Braeden, who folded his arms over his chest.

  The nurse looked between me and Braeden for long moments before relenting. “Fine. Whatever. Go in.”

  He started down the hall, and Ivy followed. The nurse blocked her. “No more people back there.”

  “She has my clothes,” I protested.

  Braeden backtracked and plucked the bag out of Ivy’s hands. “Thanks, blondie.”

  Ivy practically snarled at him. He didn’t seem to notice.

  As Braeden approached, he looked me over like he was checking for injuries. The way his mouth flattened when he stared at my face made my stomach hurt.

  “You look like dog meat,” he said fondly and slung an arm across my shoulders. I sank into him a little because he was so warm.

  “Gee, thanks.”

  He steered me toward the room but stopped abruptly when he saw who was in the doorway. His entire body stiffened and the arm across my shoulders tensed. “Rome.”

  Romeo filled the doorway. A fresh splint and sling covered half his arm and wrapped his chest. His blond hair was a wreck, and there were shadows beneath his blue eyes.

  “Aww, fuck, Rome. How bad is it?”

  “Broken,” he said, gruff.

  “Zach?” Braeden said, his voice deadly calm. That calmness was scarier than the fury I’d heard only moments before.

  Romeo nodded once.

  An unspoken message traveled between them and with it, a current of unrestrained wrath. It made me uncomfortable, and I shivered.

  “C’mon, sis,” Braeden said, loud. “You need some clothes.” He guided me into the room.

  Inside the room, Braeden tossed the bags on Romeo’s bed and turned toward his parents. I went back around the curtain and sank onto my bed. I wasn’t up for looking at his mother right now. She had every right to be here, but I had every right to be angry, and it was all just too much.

  I needed some space. I needed to breathe and deal with one thing at a time, but the problem was I didn’t seem to be processing anything right then. It was as if I were completely numb.

  Romeo stepped around the curtain, the bag Ivy brought in his hand. He sat it beside me and stared down, not saying anything.

  The broken part of his arm was now completely covered. It was a pretty modern-looking splint, and I was glad because it looked fairly comfortable. It appeared like they slid a white wrap over his arm so it covered his bicep, upper arm, elbow, and forearm. It looked thick and soft but also like it was sturdy, like it would compress the area a little. Over the wrap was a white, hard plastic brace. It wrapped around his bicep just above his elbow and ended just below his armpit. There were white strap
s that wrapped around the brace, holding it tightly in place. The top of the wrap (really, it looked like a sleeve) was attached to a long white strip that wrapped around his chest and anchored his arm to his side.

  I stared at the brace, wondering how badly it had hurt when they put it on him. I hadn’t heard him say a word.

  “You’re hiding back here,” he said, his voice brusque.

  “I was with the doctor,” I argued.

  “She left a while ago.”

  “I called Ivy for clothes.”

  “You’re avoiding my parents.”

  “Just your mother,” I muttered.

  He grinned.

  I found myself smiling back.

  “I sent them outside,” he said, cupping my jaw with his hand. “You don’t have to see her. Hell, I don’t want to see her either.”

  I wasn’t going to put him in the middle of this. “I’m going to get dressed so we can leave.”

  He squatted down so he wasn’t towering over me, but instead, I was slightly higher than him. He reached for my hand and wrapped his larger, much warmer one around it. “You okay?”

  “Are you?” I countered.

  “As long as you are.”

  But that was a lie. I slid a glance to his arm. He wasn’t okay. He was broken.

  “Remember what I told you,” he whispered.

  My eyes went to his. He was so steady. So calm. It seemed like everything around us was complete chaos, but he remained still.

  “I remember.”

  He stood and leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead. “Get dressed. I’ll see about the discharge papers.”

  When he was gone, I reached into the bag Ivy sent in and pulled out a pair of black yoga pants and a pink T-shirt with a designer label. I smiled. Only Ivy would wear designer clothes to the gym.

  I pulled on the pants, which were too long and too big so I folded the waist an extra time to keep them up. Cold air rushed over my bare skin when I pulled off the hospital gown, and I hurried to get the shirt on. I tried to ignore the fact that it was pink. I hated pink.

  There were no shoes in the bag, so I just left on the hospital socks and snatched up the brush to start the process of combing out my hair.

  “You decent?” Braeden said and then pulled back the curtain.