Page 85 of Pumped

There! A head of blonde hair in pigtails.

“Ivy!” I grab her by the shoulders, but when I spin her around, it isn’t my Ivy. It’s another little girl with blonde hair.

Her mom yanks her back from me. “Hey! Get your hands off her!”

“Sorry! I’m sorry! I just—” I scan the rest of the store, but there aren’t any more little girls with blonde hair. Ivy isn’t here. Why isn’t she here?

I pull her photo again. “Has anyone seen this little girl? Her name is Ivy. She loves bubblegum ice cream. We bring her here all the time. Please. If anyone’s seen her… Plea—” My voice cracks and I wrap my free arm around my middle, trying to physically hold myself together.

The mom’s expression turns from outraged to sympathetic. She leans in to look at Ivy’s photo before shaking her head. The three other parents do the same, offering their empty, useless condolences.

I stagger out of the store, struggling to drag air into my lungs. My fingers are numb as I try to call Everest. It takes me three attempts before I manage to hit the call button.

It rings.

And rings.

And rings.

Pick up, goddamn it. Pick up the fucking phone, you motherfucker.

I’m about to hang up and try again when the call connects.

“I found her! I’ve got her! She’s okay!”

“Where? Where are you?” I take off in the direction of the park.

“At the library. We’re at the Brooklyn Central Library.”

I hang up and run as fast as I can, dodging around other pedestrians and barely slowing down to cross streets.

The library in Prospect Park ismilesaway from our house. How the hell did she get there so quickly? She’s just a little girl. Her legs can’t possibly move so fast. We were literally seconds behind her.

It takes me fifteen minutes to get to the library and I immediately spot Everest sitting on the steps out front, Ivy snug and secure in his lap.

“Ivy!” I race up to them, practically barreling into them in my haste. I press kisses to the top of Ivy’s head, brush her hair back from her tear-streaked face, check her arms and legs for any cuts or scrapes.

Emotions, huge and uncontrolled, ricochet around inside me so hard it feels like I’m going to topple over and burst open. Relief floods through me, but at the same time fear escapes the tightly shut box I’ve crammed it into. It rushes forward, fierce and unrelenting, plowing down every other thought, every other feeling.

I haul Ivy into my arms and squeeze her tightly to me, not caring if I’m being too rough or if I’m squishing her. I need the weight of her body against mine. I need her scent in my nose.

“Don’t you ever do that again! Don’t ever run out of the house like that! You can’t just run away from us when you’re upset. Don’t you know how dangerous it is out here for a little girl?”

Ivy’s sobbing into my shirt, crying out, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” on repeat.

“What if you got hurt? What if a driver wasn’t paying attention and hit you? What if a stranger kidnapped you? We wouldn’t know where you were. You can’t do that to us.”

“Owen. Stop.” Everest grabs me by the back of my neck and forces me to meet his gaze. “You’re scaring her.”

I’mscaringher? What about me? What aboutmyfear? What about the abject terror coursing through my veins. We could have lost her. We could have lost her and I would never have forgiven myself. We could have lost her and we almost did.

Pull yourself together, Lambert.

I force myself to take a deep breath, though it feels more like a gasp than anything else. My vision blurs as hot wet tears roll down my cheeks.

“Do you have your handkerchief?” Everest asks and I twist sideways so he can pull it out of my pocket. “Never thought I’d be so glad you carry one of these around.”

He shakes it out and helps me wipe my tears away. “It’s okay. She’s okay. We’re going to be okay.”

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