Page 93 of Filthy Player

I hurried out of the emergency room to a hallway that led to the main entrance. Repeatedly pushing the button to the elevator, I willed it to show the fuck up.

I had to see her.

Needed to see she was going to be okay.

The elevators opened, waited for fucking ever to shut again despite me pounding the “door close” button and then it took another million and half fucking hours to reach the fourth floor.

I didn’t bother to stop at the reception desk on the floor, I just moved like I knew where I was going, following the signs, until I saw Jaxon outside a room that had to be hers.

“How is she?”

“Sleeping. She’ll be okay.”

“Fuck,” I knew that. He’d already said she only had minor injuries, maybe a concussion and a broken arm from where the car smashed against her when it hit a tree.

Good Lord. Not the texts I ever wanted to see in my life again.

“Didn’t want to tell you this on the phone,” Jaxon said. “But you should know. When I pulled her out of the car, she opened her eyes for just a second and all she said was ‘It was Hannah.’”

“What was Hannah?”

“Either she meant it was Hannah who crashed the car or Hannah who was stalking you. I’ve got people looking into it.”

“What happened to Hannah?”

“Wasn’t wearing a belt. Flew through the glass. Didn’t make it.”

Fuck. That would kill Paige. I couldn’t wrap my head around the information he was giving me, I also didn’t give a shit.

If someone hurt Paige intentionally, I was glad they were dead. If that made me a heartless bastard, I didn’t care.

“Her dad’s in with her. He doesn’t know what I told you.”

“Thanks.”

I walked around him and entered her room, steeling myself for the damage I was sure to see, but all I saw was Paige.

Her brown hair matted with some dried blood at her temple, but it’d been mostly cleaned up. She was lying on the bed, head tilted to her side, eyes barely open and on her dad.

She was smiling.

He was holding her hand.

Crying.

God. Pain slashed my chest and I walked to the end of the bed. “Hey, you’re awake.”

“You’re here,” she said, turning to look at me. She flinched and reached up to touch the brace around her neck. “You’re finally here.”

“Always.”

Sam rolled his wheelchair back and gestured for me to take the empty chair. “You two talk. I’ll be outside with Jaxon.”

“Thanks, Sam.”

“Dad, I love you,” Paige croaked. Her voice was dry and scratchy and I cringed at the noise. God. But she looked okay. Better than dead, which didn’t make me feel better.

“Love you too, baby girl. I’ll be back tomorrow but promise you’ll get some rest tonight, okay?”

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