Page 42 of Never Really Over

Chapter Eight

Colt

Even If ItBreaks Your Heart

Something’s wrong.

I don’t know what it is, though. Poppy rarely cries and she’s been nothing but inconsolable for four hours straight now. I’ve never missed Natalie as much as I do right now. It’s breaking my heart to hear her cry and not be able to do a damn thing about it. I know I need to suck it up and help her, but hell if I know what to do.

She feels warm but how the hell am I supposed to know if it’s because she’s been screaming her little lungs out or if it’s because of a fever. It’s something I’m not prepared for. Poppy being sick. This isn’t a scenario I encountered before Natalie died because I don’t remember Poppy ever being sick. And if she was, it was something mild. Like a little bit of the sniffles.

But right now I feel it in my bones that something is definitely wrong.

I pick up my phone and call the first person I can think of.

“Hello?”

“I need your help,” I tell her immediately. There’s no way she won’t be able to hear Poppy crying in the background.

“On my way,” she says. “Just hang tight, okay?”

“I’m scared,” I admit. “I must be doing something wrong because this isn’t normal.”

“Stop it. You’re doing an amazing job. I’m getting into the car right now so I’ll be there in about seven minutes. I timed it once, remember?”

“Okay. Be careful,” I tell her.

“Yup.”

Exactly seven minutes later, I see Missy’s minivan pull up and rock back and forth, dust flying, as she slams it into park. I go to the door to let her in but she’s not alone.

“We were at Missy’s place when you called,” Jenna says.

“It’s fine. Just… tell me what to do.”

“What’s going on?”

“She won’t stop crying. She’s been at it for hours. I kid you not.”

“Does she have a fever?”

My head jerks to the right at the voice of the person I didn’t see until now. “What are you doing here?”

Missy slaps my arm. “Be nice,” she hisses.

“I was just curious. Sorry if it came out rude but I’m freaking the fuck out here.” Jenna and Missy’s eyes widen at my choice of words. I rarely curse in front of Poppy, not that she can probably even hear me over her cries.

“It’s okay, no offense taken,” Layla says quietly.

“Amy’s on her way, so is Tori. She’s off today so it’s good timing.”

Tori’s a nurse and probably should have been the first person I called, but Missy and I have always been the closest out of all the women.

“What do I do here?” I ask Missy. “I need help.”

She takes Poppy from my arms and begins to assess her. Feeling her head and even her arms and legs.

“I’d know if she had a broken bone,” I snap.

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