Page 2 of Melody

It wasn’t on the nightstand next to Liam’s and it wasn’t on the bed, near as he could tell. That meant it had to be on the floor. He pulled the curtain a little more so it would stay open on his own. Scouring the floor again, he ascertained the girl was for sure not there. The three of them had been sitting next to where Liam lay now—but, to be sure, Kyle checked on the other side of the bed.

Not there. Not the girl nor his vape.

He came back over to the side of the bed where Liam lay and got down on his hands and knees. It was possible his pen was under the bed or the dresser—or even the nightstand or Liam himself. But after checking everywhere else, he knew it had to be under his brother.

Maybe if he just quickly slid his hand down his side…

After debating about it for a long minute, Kyle decided to just go for it. Picking up his brother’s arm, he planned to make it quick.

But something was wrong.

Liam’s arm was stiff.

And cold.

“Lee?” Kyle asked. “Hey, Lee…I just want to find my—” He stopped, finally looking at his brother’s face. There was something off about it, a strange pallor, almost gray. “Liam? Wake up, man!”

There was no response.

“Liam!” Kyle hardly recognized the scream that came from his mouth as he tried to get his brother to open his eyes.

But he knew. It wasn’t going to happen without his help.

Although he’d only seen it in movies, he knew enough about chest compressions to know how they worked—but, before putting his hands on his chest, he lowered his head.

Just as he’d thought. No heartbeat.

“Come on, Lee.” Kyle began the rhythmic pressing of his palms against the center of his brother’s chest when another thought occurred to him. He should be breathing into his mouth. Leaning over, Kyle pinched his brother’s cool nostrils together before lowering his head—but as soon as his lips touched his brother, he couldn’t deny it any longer.

“Liam! Wake the fuck up!” Kyle again pressed his hands on Liam’s chest, pumping up and down, praying the effort and emotions would create the spark.

But it wasn’t—and Kyle stopped, collapsing on his brother as tears streamed down his cheeks.

“Liam…don’t die. I love you, man. You can’t fucking leave.”

But he had—and Kyle wasn’t sure what to do.

What he needed was a fucking smoke. Then he’d be able to think clearly. Picking up Liam’s vape pen, he took a drag.

Grape.

Still, in that second, he felt that jolt to his brain, like a lever being released, letting out all the pressure.

It allowed him to think a little more clearly.

Even while the tears continued to fall, Kyle’s brain started calculating.

His brother was fucking dead.

Of an overdose?

It almost had to be.

Straining to remember more details from the night before, Kyle squeezed his eyes shut, pinching his nose between his finger and thumb. Kyle had gone first. Liam’s reasoning had been so the girl could see what it looked like. Kyle had rested hishead on the back of the bed as that familiar comfort enveloped him like a soft blanket, a sense of absolute contentment weighing his body down.

The heavy arms.

He could hear the stupid girl giggling but he kept his eyes closed—and, even though he hadn’t seen it, he’d heard his brother preparing a dose for her. She’d gasped and then moaned, almost as if Liam had been fingering her and had found her sweet spot. And then, of course, Liam had injected himself.

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