Page 9 of Pumped

Taking a deep breath, I squeeze my eyes tightly shut until the stinging fades. Only then do I straighten and open my eyes.

The coroner’s assistant holds out a clear plastic bag. “The clothes and other belongings your brother had on him when he arrived at the hospital.”

I stare at the bag. The folded clothes look like a suit and shirt. The dress shoes look like the pair I got him for Christmas last year. Wallet, keys, phone. It’s so normal. Like he folded it all up and placed it neatly inside the bag before climbing onto the table.

I reach for the bag, bracing myself for the weight. But it’s surprisingly light. Too light. It should be heavier, shouldn’t it? Considering it contains the last bits of life my brother lived. I clutch it to my chest as I make my way back upstairs.

A nurse shows me to Eden’s room and I stop just inside the door, afraid to go any farther.

Somehow, seeing her like this is harder than seeing Jeremy downstairs. The sheets are arranged neatly around her and her hands are clasped gently on her stomach. Someone took the time to brush out her long blond hair, pulling it to the side to lay across one shoulder.

She looks peaceful, serene, like she too could wake up if I reached out and shook her. She’s breathing steadily, her chest rising and falling in time with a whooshing sound coming from the machine. But it’s not actually Eden who’s breathing.

She’s alive. But she’s not. She’s here. But not really.

Reluctantly, I inch forward until I’m close enough to grip the guard rails on the side of her hospital bed.

The nurse does a quick check of the monitors. And even though I know it makes no difference, the charade is strangely comforting.

“What’s her condition?” My throat is tight and my voice is coarse.

The nurse shoots me an assessing look, and I return it with as much steely confidence as I can muster. Solemnly, he picks up Eden’s chart.

“She had—has a severe concussion and several broken ribs. There were also some internal injuries. She was taken into emergency surgery and they were able to repair the damage. But then her heart stopped beating. The team was able to revive it, but by then her brain had already been deprived of oxygen for too long.”

In slow motion, my legs give out under me and I sink into the chair next to the bed. The bag of Jeremy’s belongings lies in my lap. A similar bag sits on a table beside me. The fabric inside is dark purple, along with nude pumps and a small, sparkly clutch. I glance from it to the bag on my lap.

They were dressed up. They were on their date to the opera.Carmen. The show’s gotten good reviews. They must have enjoyed themselves.

And now they’re dead.

A hollowness opens up inside me, a deep, yawning cavern that wants to swallow me whole. I wrap my fingers around the wooden armrests of the chair and hold on tight, willing myself not to fall in.

The nurse quietly closes the chart and replaces it. “The doctor will stop by in a bit to answer any questions you have. Would you like us to call anyone for you?”

It takes a second for my brain to process the nurse’s question. Call? Call.

Fuck. I’ll have to break the news to the rest of the family. Mom and Dad. Eden’s parents. And?—

I shoot to my feet. “Ivy.”

Jesus, Christ, how could I forget about Ivy? Why wasn’t she the first thing that popped into my mind?

“Do you have her number?” the nurse asks helpfully.

“No…” I shake my head. Ivy doesn’t have a phone number. Because Ivy is only six years old and in her first year of big-girl school. Ivy… who must still be at home with a babysitter. Shit. “No. No, I’ve got it.”

Placing Jeremy’s belongings next to Eden’s, I pull out my phone.

The time for shock is over. Grieving will have to come later. Right now, there are things I need to take care of.

CHAPTER

THREE

EVEREST

The music is thumping, I’ve got a good buzz going, and I’mthis closeto bringing this cutie home with me. We’ve already been eye-fucking each other all night and I just need his friends to stop sucking tongue so he can tell them he’s leaving.

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