Page 45 of Seven+Four

“Oh joy, they are here.” For once I get Lori’s sarcasm.

“You called them! Or did I?” Michael seems confused.

“Now that I think about it…maybe I did.” I can’t remember. My brain feels floaty and bright.

“I didn’t. I think,” Ollie whispers.

“Our only option here is to fake a stroke…or have a real one,” Lori suggests, forcing us into a circle.

“You start. Lie down and try not to die.” Michael points at the ground.

“I don’t want to lie next to those two!” Lori gestures to the two unconscious men.

“We can hear you. Your whispering is very loud,” Gabe lets us know.

“What the fuck happened here?” Rague stops near Ollie and grabs his face. “Why are your pupils blown, kitty?”

“All their pupils are.”

“We might have inhaled some cocaine,” I say.

“Ahhh, stop with the Paddington hard stare,” Lori grumbles at Gabe. “This wasn’t me. Ollie did it!” He throws his bestie under the bus. That’s rough.

“Hey! I just punched the guy after he landed one on me. I didn’t know he was carrying coke in a crappy plastic bag! You antagonized him in the bar,” Ollie states, pointing a finger at Lori.

“Which one hit you?” Rague snarls angrily. He looks barely in control. Ollie waves in parka dude’s direction.

“Raph and Uri are coming.” Gabe sends me a serious look.

“Yay! I miss my caveman. I feel lonely,” Michael moans, laying his head against mine.

Uri is coming? “I’m not high enough for this crap.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, a chorus of laughter resounds around us—usbeing the buzzed ones. My two brothers don’t seem to share the merriment.

“Let me recap,” Gabe starts, staring at his fiancé. “You had a fight with some lowly drug dealers and inhaled an indeterminate amount of cocaine.”

Rague lifts the broken cocaine bag from the floor and, after rubbing some on his pinky, he tastes it.

“It’s pure,” he states before grabbing the front of the man’s parka to pull him up and lay two hard punches on his already bruised face. Rague gets very upset when someone touches his husband.

“Inhaledpurecocaine and then butt-dialed me,” Gabe finishes, taking a picture of parka guy.

“Who did?” Lori asks.

“You did, Little Wasp,” Bez replies, grabbing Lori’s waist and pulling him against his body.

“We could hear you whining about your face creams, singing a Mariah Carey X-mas song, trying to think about the best petty revenge ever planned, and talking to someone about some protein bars,” Gabe explains.

“Oh! The vending machine, my full bladder found it. They taste delicious.” He takes a protein bar out of his pink bag and shows it to his fiancé before pulling his hand back. “Oi, I forgot that I’m mad at you. Yes, I’m very mad even if you are so bloody handsome.” Lori is molding Gabe’s face with his fingers like it’s playdough.

“We should take them to a doctor,” Rague says.

“Chill. We didn’t breathe in that much,” I retort.

“I sent the dealer’s photo to Rami. He keeps an eye on all the pushers around Chicago and should be able to tell us what kind of…” Gabe’s phone beeps, stopping his explanation as he looks at the screen. “The dealer’s name is Jason Andrews. He sells white powder cocaine, the purest in the city, thank fuck.”

“Yay! We just need to ride the high, then. We will be fiiiiine. Let’s go dancing!” Michael exclaims. “Hey! Where’s my glass?”

“Oh my God! That’s exactly what I was thinking…before,” I tell him.

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