4. McQuinn

4

McQuinn

" H e needs surgery! Are you sure?" I sit on the edge of the hard plastic chair in Dr. Atkinson's office so I can get a better glimpse at the MRI results pulled up on her screen. Not that I understand any of it.

"Calm down, McQuinn." Dante puts his hand on my shoulder, but I jump out of the chair and start pacing. The Olympics are in two months. Two months! He's not going to have time to recover from shoulder surgery.

"Fuck, what are we gonna do?"

"Sit," Dante says. "You're gonna give the doc a heart attack."

I glance back at the petite beta who handles our team's medical care. She tucks her short black hair behind her ear and tries to act like the alpha energy pouring off of me isn't affecting her. But her shoulders are curled inward and I can tell she's ten seconds away from whimpering. I take a deep breath, clench my fists, and try to get myself under control.

I've always been ' reactionary ,' as my dad likes to constantly remind me, but this time I have a good reason. I can't lose the Olympics.

"Isn't there anything else we can do?" I say through clenched teeth.

"Um…" She looks from me to Dante. Then pushes her shoulders back, grasping at some courage. It gives me the impression of a small flower trying to stand straight in a hailstorm. "It doesn't…"

When she takes too long to form her next words, an alpha bark slips out of me. "It doesn't what?!"

Dante gives me a hard look, but Dr. Atkinson sits straight and immediately answers my question. "The surgery doesn't have to happen immediately. But the more you use that shoulder, the worse—"

"He has to use his shoulder. He's a fucking water polo player!"

"McQuinn!" Dante reprimands. "Let the doctor finish."

Chastised, I rub the rabbit's foot in my pocket, the soft fur a small comfort. Dante doesn't understand how badly I need this Olympics to go well. Not just well. We need to place. We need a medal.

I shouldn't take that frustration out on Dr. Atkinson, though. She's been part of our care team for years. She's a good doctor, and she doesn't deserve my attitude. I drop my eyes and bite the inside of my cheek, hoping the pain will keep me from turning my frustration on her again.

"What kind of recovery time—?"

The door to the tiny office bursts open, cutting Dante off. Ellis stands in the doorway, concerned eyes meeting Dante's. Without a glance in my direction, he asks his bonded, "What's going on?"

"It's fine. You didn't have to come down here." Dante stands up and gives Ellis a kiss on the cheek.

They're sickeningly cute together, and it makes a bitter taste coat my tongue. These men are my pack mates, and I love them—especially when they let me into their bed, which I'm definitely going to need tonight—but what they have together isn't like what I have with them. They're bonded. That's a connection unlike any I've ever experienced. A connection I desperately want. And might be able to have, if we can just place at the Olympics.

"It's not fucking fine," I grumble, turning away.

"Stop cursing," Dante says. "We'll figure this out."

I can't see how. We're already down one player, and Dante is our team captain, our coach. We need him. If he has to have surgery or stop training… fuck!

Ellis looks to the doctor. "Is it a big deal?"

"Well…" She shrinks from the attention of three alphas, but continues, focusing on Ellis's encouraging smile. The fact she can handle our bullshit right now is a testament to her well-deserved place on our care team. "It's a big deal, but nothing that can't wait until after the Olympics. He just needs to be careful with it, and tell me if it gets any worse."

"Careful with what?" Harrison, our pack alpha, strolls into the room through the door Ellis left open. There's a slight edge to his tone, a command to the question.

There's always a command in Harrison's voice. He's the most dominant alpha I've ever met. Even I can't resist his bark, though he doesn't use it often. His respect for our choices has as much to do with why he leads this pack as anything else.

"What are you doing here?" Dante groans.

With four alphas in the room, Dr. Atkinson looks like she's about to shit herself. She normally doesn't deal with more than one or two of us at a time. Some sadistic and petty part of me wants to see what she'd do if Oz and Nils were here too. Run for the hills? Cower in the corner? Lose her lunch?

Harrison scowls. "McQuinn texted an SOS that said to come here."

"Oh em gee, is everyone alright?" Ava, Harrison's beta girlfriend, steps around him into the room, her face scrunched in mock concern. Her high heels are even pointier than normal, and they make an annoying click on the floor. I'm so riled up I want to rip them off her feet and throw them at something.

"What the hell is she doing here?" She's not pack. No matter how much she wants to be. Harrison has been saying he'll break up with her for a year, but here she is, inserting herself into our affairs like a splinter in my ass.

Dante calmly turns to Ava, but I can see the tension in his shoulders. He might be nicer about it, but he doesn't like her anymore than I do.

"It's nothing to worry about," Dante says. "How did the swim trials go?"

Ava flips her long blonde braid over her shoulder and grins so viciously I'd think she was an alpha if I didn't know better. "I ranked top five, of course."

"Congratulations," I say with a little too much sarcasm.

She glares at me before pasting on a smile. Her teeth are too white. "Thank you."

I get that Harrison is repelled by most people's scents. I get that it's rare for him to find someone sexually attractive. I get that Ava is an exception to the norm. But why the fuck can't he see what the rest of us see in her? She's manipulative and two-faced and the sooner he breaks up with her, the better.

"Let's get out of the doctor's hair." Dante stands. Harrison gives him a stern look, so he adds, "I'll explain later. We're done here for now."

I storm out of the room first, needing an outlet for all the pent up energy swirling through me. I can hear Dante filling Harrison in behind me and Ava making little gasps, as if she cares.

By the time I get to the parking lot, Ozren's motorcycle is speeding to an abrupt stop in front of the building. He whips off his helmet. "What's wrong?"

I wish it was Nils instead of Oz. But Nils has his fucking internship and won't hear about any of this until he gets home tonight.

"Dante needs shoulder surgery," I say.

"Fuck."

"My thoughts exactly." Without asking, I grab the extra helmet Oz keeps on the back of his bike and put it on. I need a drink. And a good fuck, but that'll have to wait. Sex isn't something I'll get from Oz.

I swing myself onto the back of the bike. "Just drive."

Oz doesn't question it, but he waits for Harrison's curt nod before revving the engine and speeding away.