Page 193 of Falling Offsides

The blood drains from my face. It’s all a blur as Dad pushes Auguste back mid-swing with Verna’s help and I launch forward. My fist cracks Martin's nose. One hard hit that ricochets up my arm.

“You little bitch! I’ll have security remove you?—”

“I’d love to see you try,” Dad snaps back.

“Oh shit.” I glance at Auguste as he inspects my throbbing hand and Verna steps in with one of her matronly, deadpan stares.

“This hospital doesn’t tolerate violence towards its staff and volunteers, Mr. Nolan. Our surveillance system will have recorded your attack on Miss Nilsson.”

“Attack? Who’s bleeding here?”

“Count yourself lucky to be breathing,” Auguste retorts, thumbs rubbing circles over my sore knuckles.

“You’re done,” Martin scoffs at me. “You are done. You are out. And if you think you’re ever coming back into our house after this?—”

“Let me make one thingveryclear,” Dad growls in Martin’s face. “The only reason I didn’t bury you for fucking my wife is because I wanted my daughter to have a relationship with her mother. But so much as breathe in her direction again, I will destroy you.”

Martin goes silent. That too familiar blue in the face scowl contorting his features before he pushes past Dad and Verna towards Mom’s room.

I hate him like I’ve never hated anyone in my life. And for the life of me, now more than ever, I don’t understand how Mom can be with a man like him when she left my dad.

He turns to me. Fire is still blazing in his eyes when he pulls me into his chest.

I hug him tighter than I ever have before, and we justarefor a moment.

“Come back tomorrow,” Verna tells me. “I’ll ask the nurses to let me know when your stepfather isn’t here so you can visit your mom without any drama.”

“Thank you,” I tell her, threading my fingers with Auguste’s as we follow her out of the ward.

When we’re in the elevator, I glance up at Auguste. His brows are still pulled tight and he’s clutching my hand so tight my knuckles are burning.

Then I look at Dad and he’s the same. Tight brows, shoulders hulking… and I don’t know why, but I chuckle. When they both look at me with the same confused expression a giggle snorts out of my chest.

Because I don’t know how I’ve ended up here. But I do know that I’m never giving this up.

THIRTY-NINE

AUGUSTE

Each timewe come back to this place, Court holds her breath for longer. The weight of impending doom becomes harder to ignore. When she received the message from Verna this morning, telling us Martin had left, she looked daunted.

I hate it. As much as I hate this place. As much as I loathe the fact the son-of-bitch Martin isn’t in one of the ICU beds right now. All the shit he told Courtney. The way he put his hands on her.

And I keep thinking about it. His hands. On my girl.

“You’ll wait for me out here, won’t you?” Courtney asks when we reach her mom’s room.

“I’ll be here,” I tell her. “Right here, Snow.”

She leans in just enough to touch her forehead to mine. “Thank you, baby.”

I can’t help the way her endearment lights me up. The way it makes me smile and feel good about myself.

Court turns for the door and I keep a hold of her hand until I’m forced to let it go.

Then she walks in, leaving the door open just enough that I can hear her greet her mother as I take a seat on the bench across from the open doorway.

At first I try not to eavesdrop, but I’m on edge. Something tells me I need to be ready for action.