Part 190 (1/2)

”In here. Hurry. Oh G.o.d, Dad!”

”Oh sweet Jesus.” He was down beside her in an instant.

”I found him-he was alive. Then he stopped breathing.” The muscles in

her arms screamed as she continued to pump. ”The ambulance. Did she

call the ambulance?”

”She called Pete. Got us on his car phone.”

”G.o.dd.a.m.nit. I told her to call an ambulance. He needs an ambulance.”

Her head flashed up, her eyes met Pete's. ”d.a.m.n you, can't you see he's

going to die if he doesn't get help? Call.”

He nodded. He had no intention of calling an ambulance. A public

ambulance. But instead, walked quickly to phone a discreet and very

private clinic.

”Stop, Emma. Stop, he's breathing.”

”can't-11

Brian took her arms, felt the muscles tremble. ”You've done it, baby.

He's breathing.”

Dazed, she stared down at the shallow but steady rise and fall of

Stevie's chest.

SomETimEs HE SCREAMED. Sometimes he cried. While Stevie's body

detoxed, new pains snuck in. Little imps of torment, pulsing in the

abscesses along his arms, in the tender flesh he'd abused-between his

toes, in his groin. They capered along his skin, first hot, then cold.

He could see them, sometimes he could actually see them, with their tiny

red eyes and hungry mouths, tap-dancing over his body before they

plunged their teeth into him.

Hysteria would follow, with a manic strength that forced the staff to