Six Brothers

Sixteen

The moment of truth. Maxi is dead, has been for half an hour.

There won’t be any reviving that motherfucker.

I untied him once his heart had stopped beating for ten minutes and arranged him on the bed with the girls. The ropes and duct tape are jammed underneath Maxi’s bed, where I doubt anyone will think to look. The rest of the harmless cocaine is flushed down the toilet, with only the strychnine-cut coke left, stashed in small baggies in Anna and Melanie’s purses.

There’s no conceivable reason for anyone to suspect me.

Especially with what I’m about to do next.

My clothes are back on and I’m kneeling in the middle of the room. As I stare at the last line of powder on the mirror, I’m starting to doubt my plan. But the only way to make this look genuine is to make it look like I’ve snorted the same shit that just killed Maxi. I can’t think of any other way to remove myself from the scope of suspicion. This way, those stupid girls will cop the blame for giving us their tainted coke, and I’ll look like a victim as well.

I freeze in position as I hear voices at the door. I strain to hear them over the heavy metal music coming from the party, their voices becoming clearer as I concentrate.

It’s Jazz and someone else, talking heatedly right outside the goddamned door.

Oh my God. Do not come in.

“Get out of my way, bro,” a voice says.

Jase.

Shit, shit, shit! If they come in and see me, perfectly normal and conscious while Maxi is dead and the two girls are passed out, I am screwed.

“Nuh-uh!” Jazz says, his deep laugh just like his father’s. “”It’s not your birthday, little brother. Wait your fuckin’ turn!”

I hear jostling against the door and decide that it’s now or never.

I take a deep breath, grit my teeth and snort hard, the tainted powder slamming into my brain like a blowtorch turned to max.

The strychnine-laced coke burns the inside of my nose and I feel a thin trail of blood thread its way out of my nose, dripping onto my lip. It tastes bitter and metallic all at once, like cola and pennies swirling in my mouth, and I gag on the taste.

The room spins around me and I drop the mirror to the floor, where it shatters into a million pieces. Seven years bad luck? I think I’ve already done my time.

“What was that?” Jase barks outside the door.

I hold up a hand to catch at the blood underneath my nose, trying to stop the mess, but it’s useless. It goes everywhere, down my throat and into my cleavage, soaking into the top of my corset. So much blood for such a small amount of powder.

“You think you’re such hot shit,” Jazz yells outside. I crawl towards the door, my palms and knees collecting sharp pieces of mirrored glass along the way.

“Let me in there, dick!” Jase yells.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Jazz demands, and I hear a fist connect with bone. Ouch. “There were only ever six brothers, you understand? You little bastard. You’re probably not even his.”

Their footsteps and voices recede as I get to my feet.

I grab for the doorknob as my vision clouds and a fresh avalanche of blood begins to pour out of my nose. I choke as I wrench the door open and stumble into the hallway. The music in the place is so loud it’s deafening, and I’m trying to yell, but I can’t hear myself above the Metallica bursting through the empty hallway.

They were just here. Where did they go?

I limp along as Enter Sandman pulses through me, and the strychnine bores holes in my brain. I fall to my knees, suddenly panicking that I’m in serious trouble right now.

I had better not fucking die, I think to myself as I crawl towards the kitchen. Surely there’ll be someone in there.

I round the corner, still choking and bleeding from my burning nose. It shouldn’t hurt this bad, just one tiny line. My brain is screaming, my entire body is buzzing angrily, and the blood won’t stop pouring out of my nose.

I stop and lean against the wall inside the kitchen. Nobody.

Fuck!

I breathe quickly, pinching the bridge of my nose to try and stem the flow of blood. Then I think it’s probably better to let it bleed and get as much of the strychnine-laced coke out of my body as possible. A build up of blood bursts free and splatters on my chest as I wobble back to my feet and inch along the wall, back out to the hallway.

I head for the row of bedrooms at the far end of the hall. At least one of them must be occupied.

But they’re not. I knock on the first one—Dornan’s door—and wait, followed by the second and third doors. I’m crying out for help by now, I need someone to find me and call an ambulance before this shit kills me.

This was the stupidest idea ever.

I finally reach Jase’s door, but I’m almost certain he’s not here.

Should’ve gone the other way. There’s music and noise and I’m an idiot for going down the dark hallway toward the bedrooms, instead of heading for the bar and plenty of people who can help me.

Suddenly, a hand clamps onto my shoulder and I am spun around effortlessly.

Jase!

My relief turns to dread as I see Jazz towering over me, his eyes full of things that he’s promised to do to me.

“You’re wearing the shoes,” he breathes. “Fuuuuuuck.” He slams me against the wall right next to Jase’s door, his body covering mine.

“I’m kind of fucking dying here,” I mutter, pushing my palms against his hard chest.

His hand wraps around my slippery throat, wet from the blood that continues to course from my nose.

“Told you that could be arranged,” he says, grinning wickedly.

Great. He’s going to try and fuck me while this poison tries to kill me from the inside out?

I make my hand into a fist one last time and pound weakly on Jase’s door. The strychnine is in my bloodstream now and my vision is turning splotchy and dull.

“Uh-uh!” Jazz says, grabbing my wrist and wrenching my arm back. “Jase ain’t gonna save you this time, bitch.”

I feel my entire body convulse, as if trying to find a way to expel the poison that circulates within me. My ears buzz angrily and far, far away, I hear a door open and an angry voice.

It’s him, I know it. I can’t make out what he says, but I feel better knowing that he’s found me.

It’s the last thing I hear before I crumple like a piece of tissue paper and everything goes black.