Epic Sins (Epic Fail #1)(12)
“You don’t look too good.” He grabs a bottle of water from the table near the door and tosses it onto the bed in front of me. My fingers are tingling as I reach for the cool bottle.
There’s a loud knock at the door, and Mick doesn’t wait for either of us to answer before he comes in. “This situation is not good.” He folds his arms across his chest and walks closer to the bed. “That girl OD’d. She’s dead.”
“Holy shit,” Heath says immediately.
“What?” I ask, my mouth suddenly dry.
“She coded as soon as they put her in the ambulance. One of the paramedics just called to tell me that she was D.O.A.” Mick shakes his head then looks back to me. “You okay?” he asks.
“No, I’m not.” I don’t want to tell him about the birth certificate she had dropped on the floor before she passed out.
His eyes sweep the room quickly. “The police are asking us to clear the bus while they collect her belongings.” He nods toward the flask and the other items that fell from her bag. “Grab what you need. I booked a suite for you at the Marriott for the rest of the day.”
Heath picks up the birth certificate, folds it and shoves it into his back pocket. Why would he do that?
I try to ignore his act and address Mick. “I’m going home. Can you get me a ride back to my house?” I have a home just west of Philadelphia that I rarely spend any time at. My housekeeper, Peggy, is there more than I am.
He nods and leaves the room.
I grab a tee shirt from the floor and put it on, walking past Heath. I pat my back pocket to make sure my phone and wallet are still there and walk off the bus barefoot, steamy August air filling my lungs. I begin sweating immediately, and my shirt is already stuck to my back. A dozen or so police officers are waiting to board the bus, and I slide into the back of the black car parked in front it. Before the door closes, Heath is in the car with me.
“I’m not going to the hotel,” I remind him, annoyed.
“I know,” he says.
“I don’t remember inviting you to my house.”
“You didn’t,” he responds.
He looks out the window as we pull away from the concert venue. There is yellow tape spanning a large area around the bus, and people are gathering with their phones extended in the air, taking pictures of everything unfolding in front of them. There are girls screaming, and a few touch the window as we drive slowly through the crowd.
Heath takes out his phone and his thumbs fly over his keyboard. “I’m letting Dax and Tristan know what happened and where we’re going.”
“Do you expect me to have a f*cking party back at my house?” I lash out at him and he huffs.
“I’m letting them know that we’re okay, *. Their bus is on the other side of the lot, and I’m sure they would want to know that it wasn’t one of us taken away in that ambulance.”
“Fine. But my house isn’t open for everyone. You’re not even invited.”
I slouch down in the seat and close my eyes. I want to burn the image of that birth certificate from my brain, but it’s all I see.
Kai David Armstrong-Moore
Fuck.
Sam
Present
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
Age 23
“HEY,” CASSIE SAYS, pulling me out of my haze. I’ve been in a fog all morning, unable to shake the cobwebs from my head. I haven’t slept in what seems like days. This time of year is especially difficult. My parents’ birthdays are this week, and it’s an unwelcome reminder that they aren’t here with me.
I shake my head and force a smile. “Sorry, it’s been a rough week.”
Cassie knows all too well how hard it is on me. She’s dried my tears on more than one occasion. “I’m so glad you have your aunt. She’s awesome and can help in any situation.” Her words of encouragement do anything but that. They only remind me of everything I have lost.
“Aunt Peggy’s the best,” I respond, thankful that I have her support.
Cassie pulls me against her firmly and squeezes. “You’re amazing, Sam. You know that?” I let her pull me tighter. “I say this all of the time, but I’m so proud of you. You went to college, got a nursing degree and now you’re here, in one of the best neonatal intensive care units in the state. You did this all yourself.” She hugs me tighter and then releases me to look into my eyes. “And you brought me along for the ride.”
“I’m not doing it alone,” I say humbly. “I’m still living in my Aunt’s house.” My aunt took me in right after my parents were killed. She has a large home in Villanova and I have my own space there.
Aunt Peggy’s a personal assistant and housekeeper to some guy who moved to the area when I was in nursing school. I think she said he’s a musician or something like that. He’s barely ever home, and she basically takes care of everything while he’s away. She’s been doing this type of work her entire life. The last family she worked for moved out to California when their daughter landed a role in a television sitcom. She worked for them for almost twenty years, and they were devastated when she told them she couldn’t move with them. We argued about it, actually. She insisted that she stay with me, and I feel tremendous guilt over this. I wish she was able to go out to California; it would force me to finally do things for myself and on my own.