Chapter 36
1793words
(Loki)
My head was pounding before I even opened my eyes, my throat feeling dryer than the safari desert. Shit. How much did I drink last night? I couldn’t remember, not a dam thing. I groan, turning over in bed, slowly I cracked one eye open. Platinum blond hair was spread out on the pillow beside me. Fucking fantastic. I blinked a couple of times before peering at the figure beside me I didn’t recognise. Her body was limp and covered by nothing but a G-string. I grimaced, feeling repulsed by last night’s shag. It couldn’t have been any good if I couldn’t even remember fucking her.
“Hey...you”, I nudge the girl, not even bothering to pretend to remember her name. I didn’t. “Wake up,” I tried again when she didn’t respond; she groans, turning to face me. My mouth fell open. What the actual fuck! It wasn’t some random girl sleeping in my bed, but Cheryl fucking Price. Lay beside me, her eyes slowly fluttering open, a lazy smile on her lips.
“Hey King,” She greeted me. King?
“What the fuck Cheryl?” I fume, stumbling out of bed faster than a vampire from sunlight. I pull on last night’s jeans and tee. Not bothering with pants.
“Where you going, baby?” she whined, reaching out for me. I stumbling backwards into the wall in an attempt to get away from her.
“I am not your fucking baby,” I snap back, a little too harshly. Cheryl gasps as If I struck her. Her bottom lip quivering, and her eyes filled with tears. Great. Just fucking great.
“But last night, I came to see Storm and after... you-” Cheryl tripped over her words, not bothering to cover her naked body.
“I what?” I demand, my eyes hard.
“You came out of nowhere started grinding on me, telling me how much you needed me, how it was killing you seeing me with another man and that I was your,” She recalled, tears streaming down her face.
“Whatever I said, it wasn’t meant for you!” I dismissed. I didn’t care that I was hurting her. She was nothing but a whore, who’d snaked her way into my pants. Had I seriously been so drunk and stoned last night that I’d fuck Cheryl for she was Scarlett? How In the hell had I gotten them confused, for starters, they didn’t even have the same fucking hair colour! Let alone everything else. A twisted part of me was glad it hadn’t been the real Scarlett. When I did claim her body, I wanted it to last for hours, and I wanted to remember every fucking second of it. “Just get the hell out!” I bark before charging into my bathroom, locking the door behind me. I knew I was being a royal arsehole. But I couldn’t see past my rage to care. I had shagged another girl when all I wanted was Scarlett. If she ever found out... I couldn’t even think about that.
I popped a couple of pain killers, downing half a pint of water, before peeling off my clothes and stepping into the shower. I washed myself three times over, trying to get Cheryl sickly sweet scent off me. I scrapped at my tongue and using mouthwash five times. Yet I still felt fucking dirty. When I finally emerged from the bedroom, Cheryl was long gone. Thank God. I stripped off my bed and tossed the bedding into the wash with the clothes from last night. Putting it on 6 hours deep clean.
A high pitch squeal echoed down the stairs. Was that... Scarlett? Within seconds I was running. Taking the stairs two-three at a time as I made my way toward my Sisters bedroom. As I launched myself up the stairs, I noticed Scarlett slumped on the floor in the doorway. Her eyes were filled with tears, hand over her mouth, staring blankly ahead.
I skidded to a hold, falling to my knees beside her cradling her into my arms. “Scar?! What’s wrong?” I ask her, pressing my forehead ageist hers. When she didn’t answer, I tried again. “Baby, talk to me,” I beg, tears running down my own face. She didn’t speak, her body jolting as she sobbed, a high pitch whimper spluttering from her lips. I kiss her cheeks, her hair. Stroking gently down her arms. I didn’t understand. All I knew was she was hurting, and I wanted to help her. I needed to make everything okay. Seeing her like this was breaking me.
Scarlett pointed toward Storms bedroom, gasping for air as she sobbed and wailed. I frowned, following her gaze. Then just like that, I understood. My beautiful little sister was lying motionless on her bed. Vomit was dripping from her mouth, an empty bottle of booze and pills scattered all over the floor.
I jumped to my feet and rushed to my sister’s side. Putting her into the recovery position.
“Call 911!” I command Scarlett, not daring to take my eyes from Storm. She wasn’t breathing, and I could barely feel my sister pulse. Vomit was still blocking her airways. I tip her head over the side of the bed, allowing for the vomit to pour out of her mouth. I didn’t care that it was going over me. I wasn’t going to let my little sister die. When the vomit was finally all out, I rechecked her breathing. Her chest showed no sign of movement, and I couldn’t feel any indication she was alive. There was just nothing. Without fully letting myself dwell on what that could mean, I turned Storm onto her back and starting CPR. Thanking God that I had been trained a few summers back when I had worked as a lifeguard down by the lake.
“Is she breathing?” Scarlett wailed from the doorway. I don’t answer, counting my steps. Nothing. I tried again counting from the beginning, forcing myself to stay calm to save Storms life. Suddenly she started choking. I tip her onto her side. Letting her threw up before finally, she took a gasping breath.
“Storm, can you hear me?” I ask, trying to keep my voice calm. She didn’t answer. I put my fingers to her neck again, feeling for a pulse....weak, but there it was. Her breathing was shallow, but for now, at least she was taking air into her lungs.
“How long on that ambulance?” I called to Scarlett, peering over my shoulder at her. She was still crying in the doorway, but her phone was pressed to her ear. “Who long?” I asked again. But before she could answer, I heard the familiar sound of sirloins in the distance. They are coming. I almost cried out in relief.
“Storm, can you hear me? The ambulance is coming. You are going to be okay,” I promise her, squeezing her cold between my fingers. “Scar baby, can you go and direct them please,” I instruct, my voice unnaturally collected. I didn’t hear her reply, didn’t even turn my head to make sure she had obeyed. But after a moment, I listened to her footsteps thumping down the staircase, the front door banging against the side table. I stroked my sister smooth cheek, her hair. My hand still holder hers. My cheeks felt wet with tears. I hadn’t realised I had been crying. I felt far away, as if I was watching the whole thing unfold from somebody else’s eyes.
“You’re going to be okay,” I tell Storm, more to reassure myself more than anything.
Soon I heard three sets of footsteps charging up the stairs. “We are in here!” I called out. It too only second before two paramedics appear in the doorway and file into my sister’s bedroom.
“Sir, please can I ask you to step back for us,” One of them directed, ushering me away. Reluctantly I do, as they ask, my shoulder sagging as I let them take responsibility over the situation. I pull Scarlett into my arms, letting her sob into my bare chest.
“Hello, can you hear me Storm,” The male paramedic questions to no avail. He squeezes her shoulders, But there was still no response. Then he begins to checks her airways. Then the lady paramedic comes over to us, clipboard in hand.
“Can I just get some details from you, Mr...?” the lady questions.
“Loki Morganstar, I’m her older brother. This is Scarlett Winters, she’s family and was the one to find Storm uncontentious,” I explain, trying to give her as much information as possible to help in any way I can. I stroke my fingers down Scarlett’s back as she takes another shaky breath. Watching as the other paramedic checks Storms breathe and pulse.
“Are you over twenty-one, Loki?” The lady asks me.
“No, I’m eighteen, Storm’s seventeen.”
“And where are your parents? Has anyone been in touch with them?” she enquires, writing down scribbled notes as she speaks.
“Dad’s away in New York for business, and Mum left possibly two-three ago. Shit, I should call them,” I realise, cursing myself for not thinking about it sooner. Mum would freak out when she found out; god, I hoped she wasn’t driving. I touching my leg, searching for my phone and remembered I was still only wearing a towel. Heavy footsteps come charging up the stairs.
“Scarlett!” Shouts Adam frantically, “Scarlett!” Adam appears in the doorway, his eyes locking on Storm’s lifeless body. “Oh fuck!” He cries out, falling to his knees. Scarlett wriggles out from my grip to go to her brother side.
“Sorry, Loki,” The parametric says, gently turning my attention back to her. She gives me a sad smile. “Is Storm Allergic to anything you know of?”
“No, but she has an asthma pump,” I recall, peering back to my sister. The man was placing a mask over Storms mouth, assisting in pumping air into her lunges.
“Would you be able to locate that for me?” She advises. I nod, moving away from her to reach into Storms bedside draw, finding her spare pump. I hold it out to the paramedic. “Thank you”, she smiles, taking the pump from me and writing down the subscription details before pocketing it. “If you could please give your parents a call for me. Maybe find some clothes while you’re there. So you can escort Storm to the hospital when we are ready to go,” The lady counsels.
“You think she will be okay?” I beg, my voice cracking.
“It’s hard to tell at this point, Loki, but I promise you we will do everything we can to help,” She assures me, giving me a dig of her head before moving to assist her colleague.
