Page 86 of Pumped

I nod, not necessarily in agreement, but more like I’m being given instructions. Yes, I understand—well, no, I don’t understand, but I’ll take your word for it.

“Come on, let’s go home.” Everest helps me to my feet with Ivy in my arms. He keeps his hand on my back, guiding me down the sidewalk.

I don’t pay attention to where we’re going or if there are any oncoming pedestrians or cars. I just let Everest direct me where he needs me to go. My arms stay wrapped around Ivy, asif someone might snatch her from me. She clings to me just as tightly, like she never wants to let go.

I don’t remember how we get home. I don’t remember going up the stoop or Everest unlocking the door. I’m not fully aware of my surroundings until I’m sitting on the couch in the living room, settling Ivy in my lap.

My cheeks are tight from my dried tears. Ivy’s fallen silent too.

Everest comes into the living room, holding two glasses of water. He sits down next to us with a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping like he can’t quite sit up straight anymore.

“How did you…” My voice is raspy and I can’t quite bring myself to finish the question.

Everest glances at me with a sympathetic expression before handing me the glass. I take a quick sip, then offer it to Ivy. She holds the glass with both hands, drinking only a little before giving it back to Everest. She immediately curls herself into me again, the movement soothing some of the terror gripping my soul.

“I was in the park when the library’s security guard called me,” Everest answers my unspoken question. “Ivy had given him my number.”

“Good, that’s good.” I give the top of Ivy’s head a kiss and force myself to loosen my hold on her. She’s home. She’s safe. She’s okay.

“Ives?”

Ivy peeks out at Everest, eyes huge and glistening.

“We were really worried about you,” Everest says, sounding more serious than I’ve ever heard him before. “Do you understand?”

She nods, her hair rubbing against my shirt.

“Why did you run out of the house?” he asks.

She shrugs and tucks her chin to her chest.

Everest glances up at me again, worry marring his handsome face.

For once, I don’t want to do the responsible thing—I don’t want to have this conversation. I’d rather bundle Ivy up in a million blankets, feed her all her favorite foods, and let her watch all her favorite movies. I’d read her heartwarming bedtime stories and watch her fall into a deep and peaceful sleep.

I want to pretend today never happened, rewind the clock, and start again.

CHAPTER

THIRTY-ONE

EVEREST

I’ve never been more scared in my entire life. Not when I watched the movieItat five years old. Not when I stared down a ten-foot wave. Not when Eden and Jeremy died and left us with custody of Ivy.

Watching Ivy disappear out that door felt like my heart was being torn from my chest, like the air was being sucked out of my lungs. And when we couldn’t find her on the street, I thought for sure I was going to die on the spot.

I swear to god, I almost lost it. Just, go completely fucking hysterical. The only thing that kept me sane and functional was knowing that Owen was with me, that he was in charge, and he would know what to do.

I was in the park, at a loss for how I was supposed to search the whole damn thing. How do I find one little girl among the thousands of people across hundreds of acres?

I dropped to my knees when I saw her at the security desk in the library, and not only so I would be on her level. My knees just gave way under the flood of relief. My hands were barely functional when I tried to pull out the copy of the court letterthat states I’m Ivy’s guardian. Thank fucking god Owen makes me carry it around, folded up in my wallet.

Owen was beyond distraught when he finally found us at the library. I’ve never seen him like that before. I mean, me losing my shit isn’t all that usual, but Owen always keeps his cool, always stays level-headed, never freaks out the way I do. So seeing him on the brink like that, barely holding it together… Jesus Christ, that was almost scarier than losing Ivy. Like, I overreact all the time, but if Owen’s that close to breaking down, then it’s really,reallybad.

Ivy is so small all curled up in Owen’s arms. Her eyes are puffy and red. Her nose is all snotty. Her hair is a wild, tangled mess. She looks so dejected, so miserable.

“Do you remember what you said before you ran out of the house?” I ask Ivy, trying to keep my voice light and non-judgmental. I don’t want her to feel like I’m scolding her, but I need her to understand that what she did is not okay.

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