But there was nothing.
No reaction.
Five seconds of agony that felt like an eternity as I held Shea’s daughter in my arms.
Then Kallie was coughing and crying and Shea was there, nearly delirious as she yanked at my arms to get to her while I held Kallie close and stumbled with her onto the shore.
Gently, I laid her on the sand while my world spun. My spirit roared. My head screamed.
Shea dropped to her knees.
Frantically she ran her hands over her daughter’s face, trembling fingers through Kallie’s drenched hair, pushing it back.
Shaking.
Shaking.
Shaking.
She chanted, “She’s okay…she’s okay,” again and again and again as she touched her all over, reassuring herself.
She’s okay.
Lyrik was on his phone, his voice sounding just about as frantic as my mind. He shouted the address and told them to hurry. No doubt he had an ambulance on the way.
“She’s okay,” Shea said again like the reality had finally taken hold, and she swallowed deep, pulling a crying Kallie into her arms. She was crying, too, as she hugged her and rocked her while she looked toward the sky, like she was sending up a prayer. “She’s okay.”
Bile burned in my gut when I looked back at Austin. He was still nailed to the same spot. Fists full of hair that he tried to rip from his head. Eyes full of horror and memories and dread.
She’s okay.
She’s okay.
He wasn’t okay.
It felt like an hour passed, but it really was only a few minutes before three paramedics rounded the side of the house. They took the walkway down onto the beach, and I moved to stand beside Shea who refused to let Kallie go while they examined her.
Lyrik, Ash, and Zee gathered behind me. The combined nerves and energy and a thick slick of shock ricocheted between us all.
Austin had disappeared.
“We need to take her in to have her checked out by a doctor and get an X-ray of her lungs to be sure they’re clear, but it looks like she was a very lucky girl.” One of the younger paramedics gave Shea a reassuring smile. “I think she’s going to be just fine.”
“Oh my God, thank you.” She hugged Kallie closer, still in shock.
“Why don’t you get dressed?” he urged. “We have to strap her to the stretcher to move her safely in the ambulance. Does that sound okay?”
Reluctantly, Shea nodded and allowed Kallie to be lifted from her arms.
“Come on, baby,” I whispered, helping her to her shaky feet. She seemed to be operating on autopilot as she pulled her clothes over her wet swimsuit while they strapped Kallie onto a little board.
We followed them around to the front of the house, and Shea climbed into the back of the ambulance with Kallie, a blanket around her shoulders, her hair matted, tangled, and littered with sand.
Tremors kept rolling through her and I knew my girl was coming apart.
I gripped her by the face. “I’ll be right behind you,” I promised.
She squeezed her eyes shut. “Okay.”
I turned to the guys. “Watch my brother.” My voice was coarse and rough, filled with my own kind a creeping fear.
“We’ve got him,” Lyrik promised with a shake of his head. “Go take care of your girls.”
In the Suburban, I followed the ambulance, those twenty minutes it took to get to the hospital almost unbearable.
They unloaded Kallie and took her straight to a curtained-off room. Shea held her on the bed, again refusing to let her go. Awkwardly, I stood at the side, doing my best to keep my cool while they messed with Kallie, checking her, prodding at her, the little girl’s face swimming with fear and alarm, but always obedient and respectful.
All I wanted was to take it away. Make it better.
Four hours later, they released Kallie.
She’s okay.
Shea picked her up and into her arms, frantically kissed the side of her head, the tremors that held her before still rocking through her body. “I’ve got you, Butterfly,” she whispered to Kallie who appeared almost as exhausted as her mother.
I approached them, pulled both of them to me, and wrapped them in the whole of my arms. “Are you okay?”
I didn’t really know who I was asking, but Shea nodded at my chest. “I just need to go home.”
“Okay, let’s get you both out of here.”
I wrapped an arm around Shea’s waist and began to steer them back through the corridors, discharge papers in my hand as I led them down the hall and out of the emergency room. The large sliding doors skated open to the early night.
Lights flashed.
Flash.
Flash.
Flash.
I blinked against the surprise of it, and Shea yelped in mortified shock, cringing and burying her face in my chest while hugging Kallie closer to her.