Bones yanks it from my hands and reads off the bottle. I’ve never heard of it before.
“Okay, Lucy,” the doctor begins, opening up the case he brought with him. “We’re going to pump your stomach, sweetheart.”
“No,” she cries softly, and my chest tightens. “No. Please.”
“Grave, I want you to sit with her back to your chest.” Bones helps Grave position the poor girl in his lap. “Good,” the doctor says once they’re situated. “Now reach around and hold her arms against her chest. Tightly,” he orders.
My hands come up to my face so they can’t hear me cry. They’re going to hold her down and ram a tube down her nose.
“Grave…” Her voice breaks. “Please don’t.”
He doesn’t speak to her, and I hate that he’s mad at her. This woman needs help. Has she always been suicidal? How many times have they had to do this to her?
“Bones,” someone shouts.
“In the bathroom,” Bones answers.
Moments later, Titan enters the bedroom with Emilee. Her eyes are red and puffy. She’s been crying, too.
She runs to me and wraps her arms around my shoulders. “Are you okay?” she asks, her voice gentle.
I nod and sniff.
“Okay, Lucy. You’re going to feel a little pressure.” The doctor glances at Bones. “I need you to hold her head back for me.”
Bones grips her chin and tilts her head back to where it rests on Grave’s chest.
“Nooo,” she cries out, fighting them as the doctor feeds the tube down her nose. She chokes, and her body jerks.
Titan looks up at us, walks over to the bathroom door, and shuts them both in our faces, but that doesn’t block out her cries.
THIRTY-THREE
GRAVE
ISIT IN the waiting room at the hospital with April on my right and Emilee on my left. By the time Dr. Lane had finished pumping her stomach, the ambulance arrived.
Lucy is going to be admitted and kept for a seventy-two-hour hold.
No one has spoken. I was surprised to see my brother show up at Lucy’s penthouse. I had April call Dr. Lane. He probably immediately called Titan, who then called Bones. I know what they thought. April called the doctor crying about a girl named Lucy, and they thought I was fucked up with her.
It’s happened before, so I can’t blame them. But I’ve never done drugs wanting to commit suicide. April was right—Lucy was crying out for help. And I’m thankful she wanted to check on her. Otherwise, she would have died in her bed alone.
April lays her head on my shoulder and looks up at me. Those ice-blue eyes are no longer red from tears, but they look tired. I wrap my arm around her and pull her into me.
“Is she going to be okay?” she asks softly.
“Yeah,” I say, but honestly, I don’t know. Lucy has a long road to recovery. But my main concern is whether she will want to get the help she needs.
The emergency doors open, and I pull away from April to stand when I see Trey and Tanner enter.
“Where is she?” Tanner asks the moment he spots me.
“She’s been admitted.”
“What the fuck happened?” Trey demands.
I run a hand over my hair. “She overdosed.”
