Rivals?

Chapter 30

Daniel's POV

I wait patiently for Mikayla at the coffee shop. My mind floods with things I want to say but I have to be careful because I am dealing with illegal... betting shit.

After an hour of waiting, I huff out my annoyance and call Mikayla. 

No answer. 

So I call again. 

It's not Mikayla when the phone is answered. 

"Who is this?" I hear a shaky voice over the phone.

"Uh, one of Mikayla's... friends," I choke out. "Who is this?"

"This is her mother," she sighs. "I am so sorry but Mikayla was stabbed." 

I choke on my coffee and cough for a slight moment until I blurt out, "What?!"

The mother sighs. "I apologize. She is okay, though. Just a terrible wound." 

"Will she be okay? Like, you're one hundred percent sure she's okay and will get out of the hospital? You are at the hospital, right?" I spit out quickly. 

My heart beats rapidly as I wait for a response on the other end. I feel actually scared and I want to kill whoever did this to Mikayla. No. I will kill whoever did this to her.

"To be honest, I don't really know," she says, her voice quivery. She's crying. 

"Can I come? To see her? Please?" I ask, not even caring I'll have to face her brother, Mom, and probably Haylee and Abby too. 

Maybe even her dad. Maybe her dad found out she was stabbed and came to comfort her. 

"Yes, of course. She's out cold right now because of medicine, but you can visit her. Who is this, though?" 

"Um... Daniel." I sigh. 

"You don't sound too familiar to me. I've heard of you. Maybe. I don't know. Are you two dating?" She asks, now sounding worried.

She doesn't know of me? How? 

"No, ma'am. Of course not. Just school friends. So, I can come?" I ask, completely blushing from her previous question. 

"Yes, son." 

"Okay, I'll... be there soon." I clear my throat. 

She hangs up and I shove my phone in my hoodie pocket, aggressively grab my keys, and head to my truck, driving off quickly. 

I never felt more worry, care, guilt, and sadness for a person like this. I don't like it. I hate this feeling. I wish shit would just calm down but no. Not in my life. 

I remind myself to calm down as I clench the steering wheel, going five miles per hour over the speeding limit. 

"Fuck it," I murmur, going fifty to eighty in a second.

I pull into the hospital and quickly get out, walking fast to the counter to my right. 

"May I help you?" A sweet woman who looks around her forties asks me.