Page 168 of Feed Your Fiends

“Bart doesn’t trust anyone fully. He thinks Gant’s emotional, weak, a pussy who can’t even get in a car. Just ask Silas.”

Hale’s eyes flick to the door. To the hallway beyond where his father is being treated, but he doesn’t interrupt.

“He knew Gant wouldn’t allow Hale, his brother and childhood friend, to just,poof, disappear for the sake of money. He knows Gant differs from him in that way. Gant didn’t trust Bart either, and he knew there was no way Bart and Hale could both leave that penthouse alive. Once Bart found out he’d tampered with the drink arrangement, it would be brutal for him and Hale.”

“I still don’t understand,” I say.

“Gant knew Bart trusted that his and Hale’s drinks would be clean. So, Gant was confident Bart would take either his, or the one meant for Hale instead for the toast.”

“So Gant told you to lace them all, so there was no Russian roulette,” I say, nausea overtaking me. “He willingly poisoned himself…”

“Then why didn’t I overdose?” Hale asks, brows knitted.

“You’ve been clean for a few months, not years. Your tolerance is triple that of Gant’s or even Bart’s, who uses socially. He knew he’d come close to overdosing, so he had a plan.”

“The Naloxone,” I whisper. “When he attacked Bart, it was the vial he was after.”

Zedd nods. “That wasn’t his plan, though. One vial? And on Bart, no less? Too risky.”

“Then?” Hale asks, and for the first time, Zedd shows true distress.

“Bart rarely visited the penthouse, but when he did, he had raging parties. Overdoses weren’t uncommon. Gant witnessed a few. Anyway, Bart kept vials in the medicine cabinet just in case.”

My throat grows dry as I remember the feel of the little, orange-topped vial beneath my fingertips.

“I was supposed to steal another vial as plan A and B because I couldn’t bring one to the penthouse. He’d check me but…” He chokes, his eyes flying to Gant before he squeezes them shut and breathes. “I couldn’t. Bart had counted them before I even arrived. That’s when he put one in his breast pocket. He kept the other in the drawer as a test to Gant and me both. Right before the toast, he slipped into the cabinet to check, and one was missing.”

“He thought Gant took it?” I whisper.

“That’s why he gave that Gant that hug during his speech. He was trying to feel it on him. He’d already pat me down, shoved my head into the stove, and threatened to burn my face if I didn’t tell him where it was.”

I eye a piece of Zedd’s dirty blonde hair near his temple. It’s singed.

“But I didn’t take it, and I didn’t think Gant did either. The plan was for me to take them mid-speech, but of course, Bart had planned to swoop in and snatch them just before.” His watery eyes fly to me, and his voice cracks as he asks. “Where did you get it? The last vial.”

“I…” My mind’s too blank and too full as I gaze from Gant’s peaceful face to Zedd again. “From the medicine cabinet… Right before Bart got to it.” My heart thuds to a stop at the revelation. “I was looking for the key cards to open the bedroom Silas was in. I grabbed a vial by mistake. I’d left it in the bedroom with my serving tray when I spoke to Silas, and once I understood what was happening, I ran for it.”

Zedd nods bitterly. “Gant thought I’d swoop in with the extra vial. I was supposed to save him, but I couldn’t.”

“Fucking hell,” Hale rasps, his chest rising and falling rapidly like he’d been holding his breath.

“That’s…” I can barely breathe. “So fucking stupid and dangerous! He should’ve known that Bart would’ve pulled a stunt like that!”

“He put too much of his faith in Bart’s vial. He knew he had it on him.”

“I don’t care if he had twenty on him! He could’ve—” I hiccup. I can’t get the words out.

“And you say I’m the irresponsible one,” Hale hisses. “I would’ve never let him do something so idiotic.”

“He said he had no choice. He needed Bart gone, and he needed to kiss death for you to forgive him.” Zedd’s eyes land on me, and my heart shrinks, withers and dies because I had told him to get on his deathbed. I’d sworn that was the only way. But…but… I never thought he would’ve taken me seriously, but he did.

“But vials aside, he miscalculated his tolerance too. He didn’t shoot back his whole glass like Bart. He drank just enough for Bart to drink his a second later. Still, he hasn’t partied in a year. His tolerance is gone. I tried to be so meticulous…” Zedd sinks into a chair. “It wasn’t supposed to be such a close call.”

“But you said ingestion is slower. He reacted almost immediately and so did Bart,” I say.

“It’s cumulative, like I said. He snacked on a few sweets in front of Bart so that Hale wouldn’t be tipped off that they weren’t eating anything at all.”

Hale shakes his head. “No way you explain it, does it make sense! I could’ve acted high if that’s what he needed.”

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