Lessons in Corruption (The Fallen Men 1) - Page 86

King’s familiar voice kicked me into gear, triggering the natural obedience that sat deep in the heart of my psyche while also reminding me that I was more than capable of dealing with this calamity.

Calmly, I followed his commands. Benny’s paroxysms weren’t as violent as they had been even thirty seconds ago but his hair was soaked through with cold sweat and his beautiful lips were purple. He was unresponsive when I tried to speak with him, which nearly made sheer terror overtake me again but then Warren was in the hallway, his cell phone to his ear calling the ambulance.

Vaguely, I listened to King as I stroked Benny’s sweet, clammy forehead.

“What the fuck did you give him?” he ground out.

He sounded horrible, menacing and full of violent fury like one of Satan’s vengeful angels. There was a sound of clanging metal as King proved his wrath by slamming Carson back against the lockers.

“I don’t know, man. The guy said it was just some Ecstasy or some shit like that,” Carson whimpered through his tears.

I didn’t want to look away from Benny’s face because it was the only way I could monitor his thin, reedy breaths but I had no trouble imagining the petrifaction on Carson’s face.

Another rattling clang. “Who’d you get it from?”

“I don’t know! Some guy at Evergreen Gas.”

“What the fuck were you thinkin’ doin’ random drugs on fuckin’ campus?” King growled.

Carson’s pause was long and full of something heavy and dark.

Another crash as King threw him brutally against the metal at his back. “Fuckin’ talk. That kid is laid low because of you and I want to know why.”

“We hook up, okay?” Carson admitted in a broken whisper that ended on a sob. “We meet up at the gas station and usually drive around or come back to campus to find a quiet place to hook-up because I don’t want anyone knowing we do that shit together, okay?”

Somehow, even through my already considerable shock and horror at the situation, this surprised me and not in a good way. Tears pricked the backs of my eyes as I leaned down to kiss a now still and unconscious Benny’s forehead.

“My sweet Benny, why didn’t you tell me?” I whispered.

He must have been so confused and excited about his secret hook-up with one of the hottest guys at EBA. It made me furious that Carson would subject sweet, loving Benny to secrecy and gross hook ups but it made me want to literally (and I was an English teacher so I really did mean literally) kill Carson to know that he’d given Benny drugs.

“And the drugs?” King continued, totally unfazed, totally focused on getting the information he needed.

“I don’t know, I heard that it made sex better,” Carson mumbled.

“Fucking pathetic,” King spat out.

There was a spluttering sound and I imagined that King was pressing his arm harder across Carson’s throat.

I wanted him to keep it there until Carson couldn’t breathe anymore.

“Cressida, the police said they’ll be here in ten minutes tops,” Warren said to me as he took a crouch beside us.

I looked up briefly to see his eyes wide and his skin pale as he stared down at the prone Benito.

“He’s such a good kid,” I whispered and only realized that I was crying when tears slipped into my open mouth.

“He’s going to be okay,” Warren assured me, but he didn’t sound sure.

“Is he?” Carson croaked out.

“Shut the fuck up,” King roared into his face. “You think you deserve to breathe, let alone talk when you got that kid fuckin’ overdosing in a goddamn hallway? You’re lucky I don’t put your cowardly ass in the hospital too.”

“King,” I murmured quietly.

He heard, though, and just like he had done with me, my voice brought him calm.

Flashbacks toyed with the edges of my vision as the sound of sirens came from down the street.

I spent the night at the hospital.

Benny’s family told me I didn’t have to stay but I could tell that Arturo and Anna Lucia, the proprietors of the fancy La Gustosa restaurant and Benito’s guardians after his parents died in a car accident a few years ago, were happy to have me sit with them. They both cried when they saw me, not because we had any special bond but because, apparently, Benny had told them about me. I started crying too when they wrapped me in their semolina-scented arms and prattled on about how much Benny loved me and how grateful they were that he felt he had someone to talk to.

So, we sat together, my hands in Anna Lucia’s, while Benny’s stomach was pumped and then he was given some kind of anti-fentanyl drug called Naloxone to mitigate the effects of the chemical already in his system. Apparently, the first few hours were the most dangerous in these kinds of situations so it was a relief when the clock struck midnight and Benny was still breathing.

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