You promised me you wouldn’t be like Dad.
You promised.
I scream for help down the alleyway, praying that someone will hear me. But nobody comes. “I’m going to get help. You need an ambulance.”
Adam shakes his head, the barest tilt. His cold fingers press my arm. “Lyss.”
It sounds wrong, broken and slurred. But he says it again, as my face crumples. “Ly-ss.”
“I’m here.” I’m crying now, pushing his hair back from his face with trembling fingers. “I’ve got you, Ad. It’s going to be alright. You’re going to be fine. I’m taking you home, and Chess is going to beat your ass for panicking us all. Or he can hold you down, and I’ll do it.”
He mumbles something, and I lean closer, trying to hear. I press my ear up against his mouth as my heart tears and rips, trying to make out the words.
“Won…der.”
“Wonder?” I’ve heard of it, heard the whispers, but I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter where you were. Help is coming.”
I shift, trying to slide his head off my lap so I can bang on the emergency door, run to the front of the club and get himhelp.
But my brother twists under my hands. His limbs begin to jerk, arms and legs twisting like a stiff, broken doll. And the noises – I will never forget these noises. Moans that cut off from his lips, stolen away by the rain that still pelts our faces as he seizes.
He doesn’t stop. Not for a long time. Too long.
He’s so cold. I tug at my jacket, ripping it off and wrapping it around him.
Rocking him.
Because I know. As his breathing slows, turns to a gurgle as the heroin fills his bloodstream. As it steals the space in his lungs.
My brother will not be coming home.
So I hold him. I hold him, and I talk. I tell him my favorite memories of when we were little, the three of us causing chaos through the clubhouse, hiding from my father and Rab as they stomped up and down, pretending they couldn’t see us.
I tell him the good memories, and I push the bad ones away.
I keep talking even after he stops moving.
I stay with him for a long time. Until it’s light outside, and the rain has stopped.
Until Chess comes, his face wet with tears as he pries my icy, numb fingers off his cold best friend. As he wraps a blanket around me and carries me away, even as my fingers shred hisface beneath my nails for trying to separate us. For leaving him there.
Iscream.
I scream for Adam. For my twin.
We were never supposed to be separated. And I don’t knowwhy– I have no explanation, no reason at all for why my brother, my fearless, strong twin, ended up in an alleyway so far away from our territory with his veins full of heroin and a needle in his arm.
All I have is a single word.
Wonder.
26 – Aiden
Kayden is awake. I know he is. Both of us are watching the drama unfolding on the floor.
We’ve seen Buck in this position before.
But Alyss – she’s pale. Too pale, as she stares at him.
