Page 131 of Implode

“Heaven is too intense,” I groan.

I hear some muffled laughter, and I open one eye to take another look—but only because the suspense is killing me. Then the other one opens. Nic, Graham, Angie, Donna, Germain, Penny, Collins, Asher, and Blake are all waiting around my bed—holding some vigil or ceremony of some sort. Flowers are arranged on every smooth surface, and I can’t even see the rest of the room because they are so over-the-top in size. I think there is a window along the opposite side, but it is too claustrophobic in here to really notice.

“This is my funeral,” I mumble, my words coming out airy.

“Is she normally this comical?” Asher asks from the sidelines. “Maybe we should get the doctor.”

“The medicine they gave her to relax her is just making things a bit wonky, I bet,” Donna says softly.

Angie breaks through the group first, joining Nic who seems glued to my side. “You scared the piss out of me, you know that?” she asks, her voice going up an octave with every few words. “Every hour you slept shed time off my own life. Never do that to me again.” Graham wraps an arm around her and pulls her away before she bursts into tears—or hits me. He offers me a weak smile, and I can tell that he is relieved.

My brows scrunch together, as I try to figure out how they got back to Portland so fast from their honeymoon. Donna moves toward the bed and pats me on my leg. Germain looks like he just let go of all the pressure in his shoulders. Penny stays back, rocking on her heels, looking like she doesn’t know whether to cry or smile.

“How long have I been asleep?” I ask, confusion growing as more time passes.

“Into the next day, so about twelve hours,” Nic explains. “You’ve been admitted for tests and monitoring.”

Blake steps out from behind Asher, tears dripping from his eyes. “Claire Bear, don’t ever do that again,” he says bitterly, pulling me toward him to hug me. “You don’t realize how much my life depends on you to be in it.” His words make me cry, and I shudder over the memories that will forever be burned into my brain.

“I’m sorry,” I mouth, scanning the room so everyone knows. “I’m sorry.”

“This was never your fault, Claire,” Graham says. “Angie and I turned our plane around as soon as we realized what Dan was doing. We landed and got here as fast as we could.”

“So, I’m not dead?” I ask for clarification.

Nic’s smile is warm. “No, baby. Everyone important made it out alive.”

“It’s all over,” Graham adds. “And now you can start the next chapter and never have to revisit the one you just endured.”

Tears cascade down my cheeks, and Nic tries to wipe each stream with a tissue. “Okay, you all came, you saw, now leave,” he says bluntly to those in the room. “My girl needs to eat and get her rest.”

I pout out my bottom lip. “But I just slept away half a day.”

“I need time with you to myself. Everyone else can go.”

“My son,” Donna snickers, “a man of great words.”

“Let’s shuffle out of here,” he prompts again, “and give me a chance to really see for myself that Claire is alright.”

“We got the point, man,” Asher teases, as Nic gently pushes everyone from the room.

“Wh—” I reach for my water pitcher but Nic beats me to it, pouring me a cupful over ice. I take a sip and then try to find my voice again. “Which hospital am I at?”

“Portland General.” He walks to the door leading to the hallway and wheels in a food cart meant to feed probably the entire wing I’m on. “I needed to make sure you didn’t get any internal injuries at the hands of that”—Nic runs a hand over the back of his neck—“madman.”

I know his words are being censored. I am sure he has better descriptors but is refraining for my sake. Truth is, though, I have a few of my own. “Is he dead?” I ask, my voice quivering.

He lines up containers of my favorite things onto a tray and helps me move into an upright position by propping pillows behind my back and adjusting the bed settings. “Yes,” he says almost passively. “And my only regret is not getting to him fast enough to do it myself.”

“Who did? Police?”

“Tyler.”

“Oh, hell, Tyler. Is he okay then? I saw his bloody body on the floor outside of Plus None. Where is he?”

Nic hugs me to him. Pulling back, he puts a plastic spoon into my hands, encouraging me to take the first bite of the oatmeal he had delivered. “I’m so sorry you had to go through everything you went through.” He pushes hair off my forehead. “Tyler is fine. He just had a scan done and nothing is broken. He is in the room beside you. I can wheel you over once he wakes up.”

“Oh, thank God he’s okay.”

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