City of Champions (43 page)

It took a moment, but Wyatt regained his bearings and pulled his right fist back, reaching around with a powerful swing, landing a blow directly onto Trey’s left eye. His shoulder screamed in response but Wyatt wouldn't let it slow him down.

"Stop it, you idiots!" He vaguely heard Jenna shout at them, but all he could think of was getting through with this guy and back to Jenna. Then he heard shouts in the distance.

"Wyatt, over here! Shit, I can't get a good shot, can you?"

Fucking paparazzi. Here? In a Pittsburgh hospital parking lot? 

"That's it! I've had it. You two can kill each other for all I care. I just need to get home."

The two men backed away from each other, panting, just in time to elude the interloping photographers of their dream shot. Wyatt moved his body so his back was to the cameras and he was blocking Jenna.

He could see the
TMZ
headline now:
Struggling QB and His Personal Love Doctor in Violent Love Triangle with Tattooed Mystery Man
. He couldn't let that happen. Jenna hated him enough as it was, the last thing he needed was to contribute to new stories about her. Wyatt looked at her intently.

"Jenna, I know you don't have any faith in me, but I'll fix this. I'll make it right again. Because, belleza, you're what I want.
You're
my everything, now.

"You don't get to have everything, Wyatt. You don't get to have me." She turned her face to hide the tears in her eyes.
"Wyatt, please let me go. This is just too hard."

"No. Belleza…Jenna. No. Please."

She shook her head and finally met his eyes. Her voice was terrifyingly steady when she said, "
We had a perfect Christmas together. But I can't let you be in my new year...and damn if that doesn't hurt like hell.
I'm sorry, but it's time to say good-bye."

All Wyatt could do was watch as that son of a bitch Trey led her away.
With each step, she took with her all his hopes of a happy life of his own and a future he could call theirs.

Like fuck it's over,
he swore to himself.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

"Jenna, are you comfortable?" Tea asked her as she smoothed out the thin hospital blanket covering Jenna's bare legs.

"As comfortable as anyone can be in this hideous surgery gown," she answered, trying to force a smile.

The room that she would soon return to after her surgery was packed with well-meaning, but worried, faces. Tea and Aubrey were beside her bed and Johnny was seated on Vivian's lap in the corner.

Trey and Griffen were in the other corner talking heatedly about something, most likely how they could make sure no images of her as a drugged-out postoperative patient appeared on the Internet somehow.

Griffen's attorney from New York had threatened to file suit against the hospital, its administrators, and staff, if there was even a hint that a HIPAA privacy violation occurred related to Jenna's surgery or treatment. It had apparently worked, because the whole floor felt like it was on lockdown.

Brey had even heard people had to surrender their phones in order to ensure no one took a picture. The precaution was a relief, but all the attention made her feel a bit embarrassed. Though the alternative — further exposure of her life when she was in the most vulnerable of times — was too terrible to consider.

Even Carol was in the waiting room. Everyone else would soon be shuttled off to join her, but Richard had pulled some strings to let her have more visitors than usual.

Jenna swallowed hard and continued speaking, this time to everyone in the room.

"Thank you for coming to support me with this. I hate that I worried all of you this way, but it really does make it easier with all of you here."

Tea and Aubrey looked at each other with guilt in their eyes.

"What's going on, you two?" Jenna asked.

"Don't be mad, Jenna," Aubrey said quickly, getting up to go to the door. "I know you didn't want him here, but we thought it was too important he be here for you right now."

A powerful surge of treacherous hope wrenched at her heart as she wondered if they had invited Wyatt to come see her. He'd called and texted her multiple times before she'd gone to the hospital, leaving messages that he loved her and was worried about her.

Jenna had almost caved. Each time the image she'd assigned to his phone contact popped up, she was that much closer to giving up all she believed in if only to let him comfort her. She'd assigned him a graphic of
Yosemite Sam
, because Wyatt was her own crazy little gunslinger. But he wasn't really hers, not anymore. Maybe he never really was.

The world knew he'd taken advantage of her, broken her heart, and lied to her. That didn't stop her from wanting to see him just once more, and Jenna despised herself for her own weakness.

"He's here?" Jenna asked with a crack in her voice, overwhelmed with anticipation.

"He is," Tea said, opening the door to reveal Jenna's father on the other side.  Shock and deep love overtook her all at once instead.

"Daddy?"

Tears filled her eyes and she felt like she was suffocating under the weight of her own emotions. Jenna quickly pushed down her own treacherous disappointment at not seeing Wyatt in front of her.

Man, I truly am pathetic. I need to get used to missing him. Might as well start today
, she told herself

"Baby girl, it's okay. I'm here. Cheryl's here, too."

Everyone else cleared out of the room as her father and Cheryl rushed across the room. Her father kissed her forehead, while Cheryl hugged her hard, making Jenna yelp when Cheryl’s purse snagged the IV connected to her hand.

"Oh shoot, honey. I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"

"It's okay, Cheryl. I feel so bad they told you, though. I know this must be so hard for you guys to face this again."

"The only thing you should be sorry about is keeping this secret from me, baby girl," her father said sternly. It was hard for her not to smile as he used a tone with her she couldn't recall hearing since she was in high school.

"Am I grounded, Dad?" she teased.

"If I could ground you, I would. But I understand why you didn't want to tell us. You've always worried more about other people than yourself. That's admirable, baby girl, but sometimes you have to accept that it comforts us to be able to take care of you for a change."

"I know and I'm sorry. How'd you two get here so soon? I didn't even tell the girls until yesterday."

Cheryl sat beside her on the bed and smoothed her hair down, her face twisted into a sad grimace.

"We started driving up here from Georgia on New Year’s Day, honey."

"Oh, no," Jenna hid her face in her hands. The shame was so acute she couldn't even open her eyes. With muffled words she asked, "Y'all saw the article and pictures, didn't you?"

"We did," her father whispered. "We knew you'd need support, so we came right up. Cheryl had a hunch you'd tell us to turn right around if we told you we were coming up to support you."

"She was probably right," Jenna mumbled.

"And we didn't want to give you the chance to be a stubborn mule, so I called Tea on the way," Cheryl said, adding, "she later told us about your surgery, so we made sure to get our butts here today to help you."

"I can't believe I didn't realize you'd see it. You watch
ESPN
every day. The article is pretty much mentioned on every sports news channel. You must be so humiliated because of me. Dad, please tell me this isn't going to hurt you with the school or your camps?" Jenna pleaded, dropping her hands to her lap heavily.

"Don't worry about me. You've been through enough. Cheryl and I only care about making sure
you're
okay." Jenna's father perched carefully on the other side of her bed before continuing. "There is one thing, though. I know Mr. McCoy's head coach, Coach McGill, from back when his son still played. He went to one of my camps and McGill was very grateful for the improvement his son made. He said he owes me a favor for getting his son a starting position in college. If you want, I can make a call and encourage him to get this
Gunslinger
McCoy on another team — far away from you. Anything you want, baby girl, I'll do it."

"Oh God,
no
. Please don't do that, Dad. Wyatt's livelihood is so important to him and his family. I know I can't be with him after what he did…but, I don't want to see him get hurt."

She watched as Cheryl and her father exchanged a worried, parental glance.

"Honey," Cheryl said, as she stroked the top of Jenna's head, "do you love this boy?"

Without looking up from her hands, Jenna whispered, "I do, Aunt Cheryl. But, I'm just going to have to learn how to get over that, I guess."

Her father cleared his throat, and said, "Let's get through what's in front of us — this surgery — and we'll take our next step after that."

Jenna took one of each of their hands in hers and smiled wanly, unable to offer any other solace or encouragement.

The door to her room opened slowly as the nurse assigned to her and her assistant entered.

"Dr. Sutherland, I'm sorry to interrupt, but it's time."

Jenna nodded, letting go of their hands. She leaned back against the pillows and allowed herself to be wheeled away to her fate.

Wyatt pulled his baseball cap down low across his face and leaned against the wall outside of the hospital where Jenna was having her surgery. His friend, J.J., had generously let him borrow his car so he could get around without tipping off the media to his presence. It was brutally cold out, but Wyatt was completely stir-crazy. He quickly found he could only bear so much time cooped up in any one space that day, much less a little sports car.

He'd seen Jenna go in with all her friends a couple hours before and could only presume she was in the thick of it now. The thought of her going under the anesthesia scared him so much he had to force himself to think about anything else.

For the last two hours, he'd been mentally going through every aspect of the Roughnecks’ offensive playbook in his head. With each lap he paced, Wyatt recited a different play to himself. He distracted himself by thinking of ways he could improve his game at each formation. If he was really going to show the team he could change his approach and become the quarterback they needed, then that process had to start immediately.

Wyatt switched his brain to planning how to advise his teammates on ways they could work together more effectively. He was toying with proposing optional off-season practices or meetings with his receivers to learn from the mistakes of this season. The process was so engrossing he hadn't even noticed the man standing in front of him, until he heard his own name.

"You must be Wyatt McCoy."

Wyatt looked up quickly and was frozen in his spot. Although the man was in his fifties, he was clearly athletic. He was also brimming with authority, to a degree most would find him imposing. Yet, that wasn't what had Wyatt's heart stopping in his chest. It was the sight of the same light blue eyes that had haunted him ever since he'd lost Jenna.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself? I know you can speak, because you did enough of it to that reporter."

Wyatt stood up straight and held his hand out, only to put it down by his side when the other man just glared at it with disdain.

"Yes, I'm Wyatt McCoy. You must be Kevin Sutherland, Jenna's father. I saw your picture…" Wyatt cut himself off before admitting to seeing it at Jenna's place. The thought of how he'd made her come with his hand in that apartment, not even two weeks before, was probably not something he needed on his mind while speaking with her dad.

"I'm her father, you're right," he answered as he looked Wyatt up and down, his face full of both interest and disgust. "You look like shit, son."

"I
feel
like shit, sir."

"Well, I suppose that's something. From that bruise on your jaw, it appears someone already whooped your ass. I'm grateful they saved me the trouble, especially because my daughter told me she doesn't want you to get hurt."