Page 100 of Pretty Black

“I’m sorry.” Iris’ words were barely audible.

“Aspen, fucking call 911.” I pressed my fingers to his pulse. It felt weak. “I think he’s overdosing.” Panic ate at my chest. My entire world lay in my arms, and what if we weren’t fast enough?

“Put him on his side.” Aspen sprinted into the room, phone against his ear already. He’d just gotten up for coffee, and I’d been filling him in when Iris got home. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. He slumped over, hit the table, and passed out.” I rolled him to his side. “Iris.” I turned his head, and his lips were blue. “His lips.”

“Fuck. How’s his pulse?”

“Weak.” Iris sucked for air weakly, more like he was having an asthma attack than an overdose.

Aspen dug in his pocket, pulling out a little white plastic something. “Hi, yes, we have a suspected overdose.” He shoved the phone at me. “Give them your address.”

I fumbled the phone but caught it, bringing it to my ear and gave the woman my address. She said she’d already dispatched an ambulance and then asked me to explain what happened. I retold the story while Aspen shoved the end of what I assumed was Narcan in Iris’ nostril and squeezed.

“Is he breathing?” the operator asked.

“Barely.”

Nothing happened.

The operator kept talking to me, but I couldn’t process anything she was saying, willing Iris to come back. The commotion seemed to have woken the rest of the house in batches, everyone coming out of their rooms. No one asked. The scene was evident. They went to work. Someone picked up the phone to talk to the operator. Royal went downstairs to wait for the paramedics.

“Why isn’t he waking up?” I put my fingers on his pulse point again.

“He might need a second dose,” Aspen said softly.

“Do you have another?” I asked, my tone was frantic.

“I don’t. I carry it—” He glanced around the foyer. “Who has Narcan?”

“River put some in the kitchen, I think.” Lowe darted out, returning with it.

Aspen glanced at his watch. “We can give him another dose in a minute.”

“How far out is the ambulance?” I asked whoever had taken my phone.

“Eight minutes,” Alister replied, voice quivering.

“Please just fucking wake up. Please.” I knew he didn’t mean this. I knew it in my soul. “Iris, don’t you fucking dare go. I just got you back. I fucking forbid it.” I didn’t care who heard me. I needed Iris to absorb the message.

Lowe dropped to his knees next to us, handing the Narcan to Aspen. He slipped it into Iris’ other nostril and dispensed it, and I held my breath.

Felix and Elijah joined the party, going into medical mode until the paramedics arrived.

Iris trembled, half sitting as he gasped. He clutched at his chest. I tried to pull him into my arms, but he fought me. He shook and backed away from me, gasping. He dug his fingernails into his chest, coughing and grunting through his teeth.

He wouldn’t let anyone touch him. He acted like a feral cat, hissing at anyone who got too close. He clawed at his skin and shook.

Iris resisted, finding his voice. “I’m fine.” He took great gasping breaths.

The rest passed in a blur.

They wouldn’t let me in the ambulance with him.

We rode in silence to the hospital, and then it occurred to me I had to call River before he saw it on some fucking website.

“Hello?” a sleepy River answered.

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