Use Somebody: Plantain Series Book Four

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Use Somebody: Plantain Series Book Four Page 26

by Amelia Oliver


  “What?” Nathan asks.

  Skye pulls back. “Her shoes were found on some jagged rocks before a cliff that leads from a mountain river.

  My chest heaves, the room beginning to spin as I drop my helmet to the floor with a thud and my knees buckle, sending me onto them as I crumple to the floor. I hear Nathan throw something, Skye sobbing loudly and raised voices. But it’s all white noise, it can’t fucking be, she can’t be fucking gone. We had so much to do together, she has to go to college and do stupid things with my sister when they turn twenty-one, she has to graduate, and marry me…this can’t be.

  “Oh my God Nathan,” Skye says over and over, but I can’t stop looking at the wood floor beneath me.

  There’s commotion around me, and slowly my eyes trail over to see Nathan on the floor, his hand clutching to his chest as Skye places her hands over his and calls his name. He blinks up at the ceiling in a daze, and I snap out of it. It’s one hundred times louder, everyone panicking and Milton calling for help on his walkie.

  “Get aspirin!” I order Skye and she takes off for the kitchen. “Mom, hand me that,” I say pointing at a pillow on the couch.

  Placing it under his head, I check his vitals and Skye comes back with a bottle.

  “Is he allergic?” I ask, and she shakes her head no.

  “But he’s been taking medicine for angina, does that matter?” she asks in a rush.

  I shake my head and dump some of the small tablets out into my hand, grasping two and shoving the white pills into his teeth and manually opening and closing his jaw, as he looks up at me with wide eyes.

  “You’re having a heart attack,” I tell him calmly.

  He turns ashen, sweat beading on his forehead, his hand tightening against his chest and he grimaces, then his eyes close and he loses consciousness. I listen to his chest, his heart stuttering and faint with its beat.

  “Do you need me to do anything?” Grayson, Daisy’s brother asks.

  But I can’t answer him, I’m too concentrated on Nathan and what’s going on with him.

  “Tell dispatch he’s unconscious,” I relay to Milton, “going to start chest compressions.”

  I straighten my arms and lock my elbows, lacing my hands over the other as I begin compressions, counting as I exert my strength, stopping every fifty pumps to listen to his vitals. Skye’s kneeling on the other side of me, running her hand through Nathan’s hair and kissing his cheek as she speaks softly into his ear.

  I continue to do compressions until the paramedics come and take over. Wiping the sweat from my face as I stand and they load him onto a gurney and out the front door. I feel a clap on my back and turn to see my dad.

  “Can you stay?” Skye asks my mom since Grayson and Abbey are here and freaking out, but can’t ride along in the ambulance.

  “Of course,” Mom replies.

  I walk out the front door but don’t know what I’m doing, my body still pulsing with adrenaline. My feet take me to the garage and up the loft steps. Even though the loft still isn’t fixed from the break-in, the sight instantly slams into my chest. My eyes well up with tears and I bury my head in my hands and let myself fall apart. How am I supposed to live without her? I wasted so much time, loving her from afar, and now that we’ve finally become one, love each other…she’s gone? It’s not fucking fair. Pain holds my heart in a vise, thinking about what happened to her while she was out there, imagining her falling over the embankment and into the water. I have to physically rub my eyes to try and erase the images my brain is creating. She never gave up on me, and until an hour ago, I never gave up on her. I should feel like I did everything I could, but I didn’t do enough. Now her dad’s in the E.R. having a fucking heart attack because I couldn’t find his daughter. My hands ball into fists and I strike the floor, the sensation shooting through my hand and my forearm. It jerks my mind out of regret and into reality, but just for a moment. The door behind me opens but doesn’t close, moments before someone kneels down behind me and wraps their arms around my shoulders. Irys tightly embraces me as she cries against my shoulder, and I bring my hands to her forearms to give them a squeeze, feeling my eyes unleash a new wave of tears. We sit like this for I don’t know how long, time seems irrelevant when you have nothing to look forward to. Daisy won’t be walking in on us and telling us she’s fine, won’t ever touch me again, or give me a smile that lights me up inside ever again.

  “Wyatt!” my mom yells from outside. “Irys!”

  Irys pulls away from me slowly, and we both turn toward the door, taking a moment before standing and walking toward it.

  Please don’t let Nathan be dead, please don’t let Nathan be dead. I repeat over and over in my head. Mom’s coming up the steps and then looks up at us standing there.

  “They found Daisy,” she exhales and reaches out a hand for us.

  Irys brings her hands to her face as she cries once more, and I put my arm on her back.

  “No, no,” Mom adds. “They found her alive,” she states.

  I take off down the steps, seeing my dad’s already sitting in the driver’s side of his SUV with the engine running. But I know my bike will get me there faster. There’s no words to describe what’s flowing through my veins, I’ve never experienced this sense of adrenaline or this kind of high. I don’t need to ask where they took her since Plantain has no hospital and the only one that’s close to us is Bannister General.

  When I arrive, I park outside the main entrance, not giving a fuck that it’s not a parking spot. Rushing through the sliding doors and into the lobby of the hospital, my feet take me toward the front desk, but then I hear my name and look over to see Skye. She’s standing by some wood doors that lead to a restricted area, she’s nodding her head as a man in scrubs talks to her. When I get to her, instantly her hands take mine and I step into their conversation.

  “Compound fracture. She’s going to have to go into surgery for her wrist and knee, while she’s under we’ll stitch her lacerations-”

  “What about the hypothermia?” Skye asks.

  “We’re working on that now, her body temperature is rising nicely, we’ll keep her with warm blankets through her surgery,” he tells her.

  My head is reeling, Daisy’s alive and going in for surgery.

  “Can I see her?” I look between the two of them and Skye squeezes my hand.

  “Yes.” The doctor nods and begins moving toward the closed doors. “You can both come and see her, but only for a minute, we need to get her to surgery quickly.”

  He walks us through a hallway with a lot of things going on, men and women in scrubs, moving frantically in and out of rooms. My eyes scan every room for her as we pass by, until the doctor stops and outstretches his arm for us to enter a room with no door but a closed curtain. A woman in scrubs passes by us taking gloves off and I try to read her facial expression but see nothing to prepare me for Daisy’s condition. Turning the corner, she’s in a bed lying flat and wrapped from below her chin to her feet in blankets. Although damp, her blonde hair’s dirty and tinged with blood, and we move toward the head of the bed and past the other nurses working on her. Skye leans down and cups her daughter’s cheeks, and I move closer to see her face dirty and bloody, a gash on her forehead that looks pretty bad. Her lips are chapped and cracked, blisters from the sun line her cheeks. She has a nasal cannula for oxygen hooked up and she’s shivering, but fuck, it’s her.

  “I’m here baby, and so is Wyatt, you’re gonna be okay,” Skye says to her, and I watch as Daisy blinks her eyes slowly to look at us before they close again.

  “I love you,” she says in a whisper.

  “Ohh,” Skye says in a watery voice. “I love you too baby.” Kissing her cheek and moving aside for me.

  My eyes blur as I look down at her, my Daisy, the woman I know I can’t live without and thought was gone forever…is here and alive. I inhale sharply and lean down to press a soft kiss to her lips. She’s cold and although she smells like the elements, I can
still make out the faint trace of her scent. It fills my nostrils and I inhale her again, my tears falling onto her cheeks before I wipe at my eyes.

  “I love you,” I tell her, which is the only thing I can think of to say, but it barely encompasses how much I really feel for her.

  She nods her head and then her head falls to the side.

  “She’s been given anesthesia for surgery, you’ll have to go to the waiting room now,” a nurse says behind us.

  I give her one more kiss, whispering in her ear that I love her, before standing back to let Skye also do the same. I wipe my eyes with my palms and wait for Skye to join me, and I take her hand and lead us out to the hall. We follow the signs for the waiting area in silence, but her hand holds mine tightly as she sniffles and exhales loudly repeatedly in an attempt to calm down. Immediately my eyes find my mom’s as we enter the large space, rows of chairs and couches surround the space with large televisions mounted sporadically on the walls. She stands, as does Irys and my dad.

  “Did you see her?” Irys asks.

  “Yes-”

  “And?” she asks before I can even finish the word.

  “She’s going in for surgery, messed up her arm and knee pretty badly. Other than effects from being in the desert for days, she’s fine,” Skye tells her.

  “Oh my God,” Irys sighs.

  “How did they find her?” Dad asks.

  “Some campers were at the water and saw her floating down the river, they went in after her and called the sheriff,” Skye says.

  “Thank God,” Mom sighs.

  “Where are the kids?” Skye asks her.

  “Missy has them, how’s Nathan?”

  Skye’s face falls as if in all the happiness of her daughter being safe, she blocked out the terrible event of what’s going on with her husband.

  “He’s in surgery too,” she says, her voice a little defeated.

  My mom takes her hand and they walk off down the hallway and I know it’s so Skye can vent, or cry, or just sit with my mom alone.

  “Is she really going to be okay?” Irys asks me, looking at me with unsure eyes.

  “Yes,” I state and put my hand on her shoulder. “She doesn’t have anything life threatening, she’s young, she’ll bounce back in no time,” I reassure her, and for a moment I really feel like a doctor.

  “You saved Nathan, you know,” Dad says beside us, “you should be proud of yourself, I know we all are.”

  He looks at me and I can tell what he’s saying is sincere, my dad doesn’t just say shit to say it. Something comes over me in that moment, thinking about what I had done for Nathan earlier. It rekindles that flickering fire I had for the medical profession, and ignites it. Both my dad and sister look over my shoulders and I turn to see Nolan and Evan approaching us from behind. Nolan and I slap one another’s backs as we embrace, then he does the same with our dad.

  “What the hell is going on?” he asks, since he’d been out of town on a job with Evan, and I can only imagine the confusing correspondence he’d received about Nathan and Daisy.

  “Daisy was found, she’s in surgery,” Dad replies.

  “And Uncle Nathan?”

  “Same,” Dad adds.

  It’s then dad looks over and his brows pinch, a confused look taking over his face. at the same moment, both my brother and I also look over to see Irys and Evan hugging and it looks a little more than platonic. He’s holding her tight, one hand on the back of her head as he whispers in her ear while she’s crying. The three of us, trying to make out what the hell is happening, when they pull away and Irys nods her head to something Evan’s said and he swipes his thumbs under her eyes and kisses her forehead. They both look over at us and their eyes widen, and I assume all three of us are watching them with the same expression.

  “Um,” Irys begins. “So, Evan and I have been seeing each other,” she says.

  I’ve never seen my sister stammer words, or appear scared to say anything, but she looks pretty scared now as she looks at my dad. We all wait for him to react and I don’t know what to expect.

  “What are you looking at me for, you’re eighteen,” he shrugs.

  Irys smiles and wraps her arms around Evan’s shoulders, and even though I’m shocked as fuck, maybe this will calm Evan’s ass down. He looks over at Nolan and me and we both give him a shrug also, because I know he’s thinking ‘don’t be mad I’m with your sister.’

  “Mrs. Westmore?” a female calls from behind us and we all look.

  Mom and Skye walking up from the hallway and toward her. I know this has to be about Nathan because Daisy probably hasn’t even been started on yet.

  “Everything looks good, we did a coronary angioplasty and stent-” the surgeon tells Skye.

  “What’s he’s saying?” Irys asks.

  “They put a balloon in to open the blocked coronary artery,” I tell her.

  “Oh…is that a good thing?” she adds.

  I don’t answer because I’m trying to listen.

  “He’s out of surgery and in recovery, once he wakes up someone will come and get you so you can see him. Then we can talk about the steps we need to prevent this from happening again,” he adds.

  “Thank you so much, doctor.” Skye smiles and you can physically see the weight of the world lifted off her small shoulders.

  We all collectively let out a sigh of relief. The last few days feel like a blur, unreal, and life changing. I know Sven was watching out for us and has been ever since he died. I don’t normally believe in that sort of stuff, but I have to think that there’s no way we could be this lucky. A voice comes over the hospital intercom, announcing that a motorcycle is illegally parked and needs to be moved before it’s towed, and my dad and Nolan look at me. As I make my way down to move my bike, I grab my phone and call Hanover and my school advisor.

  “When’s the latest I can enroll in classes for this year?”

  EPILOGUE

  THREE YEARS LATER

  WYATT

  I walk through the crowded streets of Portland on my way home after three days on call for my medical residency. It’s just rained and is now sprinkling as I avoid massive puddles and people’s large umbrellas. My baseball hat shields my face, and the shoulders of my coat are slowly soaking through, along with my scrub pants. I pull my bag in front of me to retrieve my apartment keys before I get to the building and unlock the glass door in the old Victorian home that’s been converted. My wet sneakers squeak on the wood steps as I make my way up to the third floor, only bad thing about the building is there’s no elevators. I’m dead on my feet, but I want to talk to Daisy. It’s her birthday and I don’t get to talk to her much while I’m at the hospital, but I at least want to give her a proper birthday gift before I crash out.

  Unlocking the wooden door to the apartment, I enter to a semi-darkened living room. The apartment is open concept when you walk in, a kitchen and dining area are to the right, then the living room, then a hallway to the left which leads to two bedrooms and a bathroom. A growl of thunder comes from outside, followed by a torrential downpour I can see out the windows that line one wall of the living room. I drop my bag onto the floor and kick off my wet shoes, peeling off my coat and hat to put on the coat rack beside the door. Grabbing my bag off the floor, I hold it in one hand as I run my other hand through my hair and muss it up, while walking down the hallway and toward the bedroom.

  Daisy’s sitting on the bed, her hands busily sketching something on a massive pad of paper and I stop to just look at her. Patti Smith’s “Dancing Barefoot” plays from her phone on the bedside table and she hums along. She still takes my breath away, and seeing her like this, in her element does things to me. Her hair is colored silver and it in two messy buns on the top of her head. She has on a loose grey colored tank top which allows me to see the side of her tit and half her rib cage, and a pair of my scrub pants. I love when she wears my clothes.

  After she came to from surgery, I told her about signing up for classes
. The look on her face, how happy she was, it made me love her even more. When she was well enough to leave the hospital, was when she was finally ready to deal with what had happened, and with Courtney. We talked a lot about her, what she did and how she needed help. I was all for locking her up and throwing away the key. But my sweet girl wanted her to help more than anything and went to court to testify that she wanted Courtney to go to a facility to deal with her mental problems rather than jail. It worried me that it was a short-term solution, that Daisy wasn’t looking at the big picture. This allowed Courtney to come after her again sometime down the road, but Daisy didn’t see it that way. I accompanied Daisy to therapy, as she freely talked about what happened and how to let go of the incident and learn from it. I saw how she used the terrible shit that happened to her, and turn it into something she drew strength from, impressing the hell out of me. Nathan recovered from his heart attack, and other than taking medication for his condition, he was back to one hundred percent in no time.

  Daisy stayed in Plantain while I went back to Hanover, and finished the work on the book she was hired for, and she’s been working doing that ever since. She’s published a few of her own children’s books, the one’s she made for my little sister Ruby, and I can’t tell you how fucking proud of her I am. When I got my internship in Portland, it wasn’t even a question of if she was coming with me or not. We’d talked about it so many times, how she’d come with me wherever I was, and here we are. She looks over at me and then smiles, opening her mouth to speak, when her cell phone begins to ring and I know it’s Irys.

  “Take that, I gotta dry off,” I tell her, turning toward the bathroom as I hear her answer.

  I strip my wet clothes off and take a hot shower, the warmth pushing away the bone chill that comes from rain. When I emerge, I open my bag and pull out my stethoscope and white doctor’s coat, putting it on and the stethoscope around my neck. I reach into the bag for my clean boxer briefs and put them on, my dick’s already growing hard as I adjust it inside the boxers.

 

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