56. Lolly
fifty-six
Lolly
I bring my hand up to knock when I realize I haven’t even considered what I’m going to say. I rock back on my heels, impatiently waiting for him to come to the door. He’s probably going to slam it in my face. Maybe he won’t open it at all.
I knock again, louder this time, then ring the doorbell for good measure. What the fuck is he doing in there?
Chills caress the skin of my forearms as I recall the look on his face. A painful mixture of fury and betrayal. It hadn’t made sense initially, but Jinx helped paint the picture from Bailey’s point of view and now there’s no denying what happened.
“Damnit, green eyes,” I huff. If he doesn’t want to see me, that’s fine. I turn to leave and then stop in my tracks. Something in my gut twists and it’s so unsettling I can’t ignore it.
Fuck it. I turn up all three planters until I find a key, quietly turning it in the lock. “Bailey? It’s me,” I say into the dark apartment. Where the hell is he? “Please just talk to me,” I say, softer this time.
When he doesn’t answer, I head down the hall, opening every door until I come to what I’m assuming is his bedroom. I knock, “I’m coming in, Bailey.”
Nothing. No answer. I pull in a deep breath and am surprised when it’s unlocked.
I quietly step in, flipping the light switch to find the bed empty, days-old takeout boxes and empty liquor bottles littering the bedside table and floor.
My chest tightens as I see the evidence of his pain. The story of his grief. Fuck.
I check his bathroom and stick my head in all the closets before heading to the guest bathroom. The door is ajar but I open it and pull back the shower curtain before heading back to the front door, turning the lights off as I go.
I stop halfway through the living room, light catching a metallic photo frame on an antique console table. Bailey and Natalie smile up at me, eyes bright and full of laughter and love. My heart breaks for him, the photo blurring behind my tears.
I wipe my eyes and pull up Liam’s contact.
“Oliver?” Liam says. He sounds like I woke him but I don’t slow down.
“Yeah, it’s me. Listen, I think Bailey took off. He was drunk and seemed upset. He’s not at his apartment so I’m headed to the cemetery,” I explain as I jog to the car with a strange sense of urgency on my heels.
“I’ll meet you there. Take the front entrance, make your first right, then it’s just past this weird angel baby statue thing. You can’t miss it,” Liam says before ending the call.
My heart thrums in my ears as I floor it, silently begging all the lights to be green. God, I hope we’re right and he’s there telling Nat what an asshole I am. My lips twitch at the thought, a hopeful laugh escaping.
Drunk Bailey loudly announcing my assholery to whoever in the cemetery will listen—arms flailing for dramatic effect.
My stomach churns in apprehension as I park and head toward the gate, my boots louder than the night.
I scan the graveyard for any movement as I remember Liam’s directions.
I need to slow down, but something is screaming at me to hurry.
My footfalls are heavy on the concrete as I round the corner, the creepy, ‘angel baby thing,’ coming into focus.
I slow to a jog and raise the flashlight of my phone ahead.
A strange sound startles me before I realize it fell from my own lips.
My phone light casts an unforgiving glare off the lens of his abandoned glasses.
His pale form is perfectly still. I crash to the ground, knees buckling as I roll him to face me.
His eyes are closed and his beautiful lips are a pale blue. “No,” I whisper. But no one hears me.
“No, green eyes,” I beg.
“Bailey!” I yell, shaking him forcefully.
He doesn’t move.
He isn’t breathing.
“Fuck!” I cry as I try to center myself.
Check for a pulse.
A heart beat.
Check for a heart beat, Lolly. Do it. Do it now.
I bring two trembling fingers to his neck and let out a strangled cry of relief when I feel a faint beat beneath them. “Hold on, Bailey. Fucking hold on. I’ve got you,” I promise as I dial 911 with trembling fingers.
Time stands still as the operator asks me questions.
“I need you to place me on speaker phone so I can help you through this, okay?”
“Okay,” I manage.
“Is he breathing?”
“No. I don’t know. I can’t tell. His lips are blue.”
“Can you check for a pulse again?”
“I feel it. It’s still there.”
“Okay, I need you to stay on the phone with me so I can help you keep him safe until the paramedics arrive.”
“Okay,” I say, salty tears stinging my tongue as I hold his head in my lap. I run my fingers through his curls, watching my tears hit his cheeks as if they knew he had none left to give.
“I need you to lay him flat on his back and tilt his chin up as far as you can. You can grab under his jaw with your fingers and pull up. Then watch his chest for rise and fall. Can you do that for me?”
“Yes,” I say. I gently lay him down and tilt his beautiful face up, the moonlight caressing his pale, blue lips. It feels wrong. It’s all so wrong.
“Is he breathing now?”
I watch a subtle rise and fall of his chest and crumble with some semblance of relief. “Yes, yes. He took a breath. He took a breath,” I echo.
“Oliver!” Liam screams as he crashes his knees. “Oh god, Bailey, what happened?” he cries.
“The ambulance is on the way,” I whisper. “He’s got a pulse and he just took a breath.”