Page 70 of Red Hot Harmony

A pungent smell streamed inside and attacked my nostrils. The wind was changing directions again and the underbrush on the hillside beyond my property shivered and shook.

I called Snowflake again. Went to the kitchen. Looked under the table, only to find his Super Chewer collection spread out all over.

Went back to the terrace. Stared at the layer of ash floating in my pool.

The picture was sad and disturbing.

Then I heard Snowflake’s bark. Distant, distressed sounds. Seconds later, I saw him squeezing his tiny body through the door crack of the pool house.

“You scared me, little shit!” I yelled at him and strode forward to bring him inside. The air was horrible and I didn’t want him to get sick.

He made more noise. Apparently, he was full of defiance about something.

“Get in here,” I called, marching across the back yard in my socks.

Snowflake spun, scratched the door, and disappeared into the pool house.

“Oh, come on!” I flung up my arms. “Why do you wanna be difficult when I have to get ready for a party?”

More barking came.

“This isn’t funny!” I said as I entered. And my stomach bottomed out at the sight of Malik on the floor. “Fuck.”

Panic rendered me motionless for a brief moment.

I was frozen from head to toe, almost having an out-of-body experience. Then my backup generator kicked in. Everything flashed and buzzed and pushed.

I dropped to my knees and went for his pulse, my actions almost automatic, my brain functioning on an entirely different channel from my body.

Malik was a big motherfucker and I knew I wouldn’t be able to move him if I needed to. He was sprawled out on the floor by the couch, his head tilted up at a weird angle, resting against the padded base, arms and legs askew.

I attempted to move him so that I could get to the artery in his neck.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” I heard myself cursing as I felt a weak thrum beneath his cold, sweat-drenched skin.

I pulled at his eyelid to check his pupils.

Dilated.

Somewhere deep down, I’d known this was a possibility. In fact, every addict risked relapsing every second of every day. Drugs did that to you unfortunately, but I always thought we were better than this. I always thoughthewas better than this.Better than me.

Snowflake anxiously shoved his nose into Malik’s fist, then licked his knuckles.

It was then that I realized he was holding something in his hand, clutching it for dear life. Heart pounding, I pried his stiff fingers open and my breath got stuck in my throat. There, in the cradle of his palm, was his cross. The one he hardly ever took off.

Seeing it like this—disowned—made my guts twist.

I bit back the acid rising up to my throat and plucked the necklace out of his grip, then shoved it into the back pocket of my jeans.

For safekeeping.

Somewhere between my slapping the shit out of a two-hundred-fifty-pound man and making the 911 call, I lost time.

I didn’t remember much of my race across the yard or how I picked up my phone and dialed the three digits I’d always hoped I’d never have to use.

Snowflake limped after me as I rushed back outside and into the pool house with the operator still on the line. She was asking questions and doing her best to keep me calm until the paramedics’ arrival, but I was freaking out.

I was beyond that invisible wall Malik and I knew very intimately, and he was halfway to the grave now, on the floor, his face turning ashen.

---