What did he just say?
There’s a high-pitched scream for help that sounds in the distance. I push Wesley aside and run toward the sound. A large group on the beach surrounds a body on the sand. I run through the grit with difficulty, my feet sinking in making my pace slow.
A man yells for someone to call 911.
The panic urges me to run faster until I’m amongst the crowd pushing everyone away. When it’s all clear, I see two bodies lying on the sand, unconscious—Tayla and another girl.
I fall to my knees and scream louder for help, placing my mouth on hers in a state of panic with no clue what I’m doing. I begin to sob, helpless as everyone else who watches on.
Logan and Wesley push everyone out of the way including me and begin resuscitating the both of them. In Wesley’s drunken state, he manages to revive the other girl until she’s cough
s up water and opens her eyes, dazed and confused.
Beside her, Logan is on his knees, panicked. I pray through loud sobs for her to wake up, call her name and beg her to hang on. My legs begin to shake, desperate to give way, yet I somehow muster up the strength to remain alert because losing my sister is not an option.
And then, as if the Lord above listens to my loud prayers, her eyes spring open and her body jerks forward as she purges all the water from her lungs.
The crowd lets out a huge gasp of relief.
Logan falls back into a crumpled heap, tired and worn-out by his efforts to save her.
I should thank him for saving her.
But instead, I embrace my sister and ignore him beside me, wishing nothing had ever happened between us.
Chapter Twenty
“Tick. Tick. Boom.”
~ Logan Carrington
I fall to the ground, desperately trying to revive Tayla. My brain scrambles to remember CPR training clouding my fear of losing her because I’ve gone completely blank. One look at Wesley reviving the unknown girl jogs my memory. I open her airway and give her two rescue breaths, then compress her chest, ignoring the cries surrounding me.
Thirty fucking times.
Do this thirty fucking times.
Don’t panic.
The other girl gains consciousness, distracting me for a moment until my focus is back on Tayla. Her pale face and gray lips haunt me as I lay my own lips onto hers and give her another two rescue breaths. Warm air rushes against my lips, it’s a sign she’s breathing and within seconds, her eyes open wide with her body following in shock.
The relief washes over me.
Adrenalin running through me spiked by fear and the unknown. Emerson’s leaning over Tayla, murmuring through tears, making sure she acknowledges her and isn’t suffering from any permanent damage.
The paramedics arrive and check both girls over. Tayla explains that the other girl was mucking around in the water and underestimated the current. When the group saw her panicking, Tayla ran in to help her but got dragged into a rip. Thankfully, two guys were late-night surfing and heard the screams just in time.
The party has stopped and all eyes are fixated on where we stand. It angers me that many have their cells out, eagerly taking photos of what happened. Emerson doesn’t care, avoiding me and not saying a word despite Tayla thanking me over and over again before being carried to the ambulance.
At the hospital, Wesley and I wait outside the room sitting on the hard, plastic chairs. We keep our distance, not saying a word to each other. The doctors check Tayla as a precautionary measure and with that, one of us had to call Chris and Abbi to inform them of what’s happened.
Emerson’s still in a state of shock by her sister’s side, and still refusing to talk to Wesley or me. Even Wesley looks remorseful, standing up and pacing the corridor with bloodshot eyes, coming down from whatever substance he’s taken.
When Chris answers the phone, I tell him and Abbi that Tayla’s okay now, but of course, explain what happened. He asks a million questions in a state of panic, and most importantly why I’m in LA.
I promise him I will answer everything later, but for now, that I’ll make sure Tayla rests and gets better. It doesn’t ease his worries with both of them catching the next flight over to see their daughter.
The paparazzi caught wind of the situation, camped outside the hospital as security tried to restrain them. When it’s time to leave, Emerson’s bodyguard escorts her and Tayla through the underground entrance and into a black tinted SUV. Wesley decides to jump in with them, much to my annoyance, and I follow the car alone and still reeling from what’s happened.