I step over to Logan. He’s pale faced, wide eyed, just staring.
“Logan?”
No response. I touch his arm and shake him a little, ignoring the fire in my veins. I need to sit down and have a come-to-Jesus meeting with my body. We—my heart, my head, my stomach and just for shits and giggles I'm going to say my vagina too—we all need to understand that Logan is bad news. He will obliterate us. Hell, he’s already destroying us and we aren’t fully friends at this point. Yet.
“Logan?” Still nothing. The dude’s in shock and I need him to focus. I slap him across the face and bite back a smile, enjoying my hand upon his skin more than I should. Especially considering the circumstances.
Logan blinks and looks down at me, as if this is the first time he’s realizing I’m inside his house.
“Where is your phone?” I vaguely remember why I’m here, because my phone is still in his car, but Logan’s is closer and time is of the essence.
“It’s…it’s...in...mmm...mmy…” his thumb hitches over his shoulder.
I don’t wait for Logan to finish. I step around him and run into his bedroom. Any other time I’d appreciate how clean it is or take in the little things that make Logan who he is to try and better understand the person he’s become, but this isn’t a social call. This is life or death. Literally.
I snatch his phone off his desk. “What’s your password?”
“0916,” Cooper yells.
The screen unlocks to a photo of Logan, Cooper and Piper at a birthday party as kids. She’s in the middle, wearing a bright yellow bathing suit. It’s a beautiful picture. One I want to know more about, but again…not the time.
“911, what’s your emergency?” the speaker on his phone booms.
I sprint back into the hallway, around Logan and stand at the bathroom entrance. “Hi. Um, I’m at my friend's house, and she just tried to kill herself. There’s blood everywhere. My other friend is trying to stop the bleeding but she’s lost a lot. We need someone here stat.”
“Take a breath ma’am. Have you applied pressure to the wounds?”
I suck in a breath, my lungs burning as I exhale, not realizing I had said all that in one mouthful. “Yes.”
“Good. I have someone on their way. Is she breathing?”
I look to Cooper, who’s staring at me wide eyed. Either he doesn’t know or she’s not. Both options aren’t good. I step into the bathroom, my shoes leaving bloody water footprints on white tiles that hadn’t yet been stained. I rest my hand on Piper’s chest and wait. The rise and fall of her lungs is shallow, and almost unnoticeable, but it’s there. “Yes.”
“Good. Good. Stay with me. Tell me something about her?”
I look to Cooper again. He’s shaking. Poor guy is still freaking out, but at least he’s stopped crying. I hate it when men cry. Not because it kills their masculinity or anything like that, but because for a man to allow himself to be that vulnerable, the pain he’s feeling must be so great that it just explodes out of him.
I glance up and over to Logan. He’s trembling, still stuck like a statue in an earthquake in the hallway. I bring my gaze back to Cooper. I reach out and touch his shoulder; he flinches but looks up at me. “Cooper? Tell me something about Piper? Anything.”
He blinks twice, sucking in a ragged breath. “Um…she’s allergic to cats.”
I try to smile and nod in encouragement, but it’s hard. Seeing Piper like this brings up a horde of memories of my mom. She didn’t die by trying to kill herself or anything like that. The cancer took her, but still. Death is death. Whether it happens by your own hand, someone else’s, or sheer dumb luck, death leaves a veil of darkness in her wake. Some veils are just harder to see through than others. I close my eyes and swallow, pushing the memories of all the tubes and wires away.
“Indian River EMT!” The screen door swings open. A male paramedic comes in first, carrying a medical bag, with two others close behind pushing a gurney. He stops in the doorway for a moment, taking in the bloody mess then kneels beside Cooper.
I step out of the way and into the hall again. Logan’s still unaware of his surroundings, his gaze stuck on Piper as if the image disconnects from his brain. I grab him by the arm and pull him back into his bedroom doorway, out of the path of the paramedics. Everything that happens next is a blur of motions. Before I can decode the medical jargon the paramedics are saying to each other, Piper is lifted onto the gurney and pushed out the door. Cooper stands in the hallway looking between his traumatized brother and dying sister.
“Go,” I tell him. “I’ve got this. Take care of her.”
Cooper nods without hesitation and runs after the paramedics. He slams the door shut behind him, snapping Logan out of his daze.
Logan’s eyes narrow, a deep crease forming between his thick brows. “Get the fuck out.”
11
Danika
“Excuse me?”