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Chapter Thirty Three

The Events of the Night After Leaving the Club As Told By Nick

I felt like a total jackass leaving Livvy at the club. This wasn’t how the night was supposed to go; we should have been leaving the club together. Then after a night of wild, tied up, passionate monkey sex, I could have woken up with her in my arms and do it all over again.

Instead, I was chasing my idiot brother around Las Vegas to make sure he didn’t screw up his whole life. Some might say that I was butting in where my nose didn’t belong; to those people I say a big “fuck you.”

I had sat quietly by too long. Aaron had been going downhill for years. Unfortunately, for most of that time I was falling right down with him. Now that I finally had my act together, it was time to help Aaron do the same. I didn’t want him to experience the same fear I did. I recalled the days where my chest tightened up so much I could barely breathe; to cope I did more and more cocaine until the pain went away. Aaron had all the classic signs. I knew his drug of choice wasn’t crack; I feared that the track marks I saw on his arms signaled much, much worse.

As I stood outside the club, I was faced with a big problem. Las Vegas was the wedding chapel capital of the world. If Aaron had lied to me (which I would almost bet my life on it), he and Maile could be saying their “I-Do’s” in front of an overweight Elvis impersonator anywhere in the area at that very moment.

Even though I knew it was fruitless, I tried calling him. My attempt resulted in an instant connection to his voicemail. I slammed my phone shut; I was furious.

“Oh my gawd, are you Nick Carter?”

I turned to see a Pam Anderson look alike gawking at me. Her friend looked like Lucy Liu.

“Er,” I said. The last thing I needed was to be slowed down by a couple of girls that I wouldn’t give the time of day.

“You are, aren’t you? Julie, how cool is this? First we see Aaron Carter and now Nick!”

Now they had my attention. Pasting on my best smile, I walked closer to them.

“My brother’s here?” I said. “I haven’t seen him in forever. Do you know where he went?”

“Maybe,” the girl (who I assumed was Julie) said. She tilted her head, batting her fake eyelashes.

“I’d be really grateful,” I said. I tried to mask my annoyance by laying on an extra layer of charm. I sounded so sweet I was giving myself cavities.

“Well, if you promise to come back and dance with us, I think we might know where he went.”

Even though it was a promise I wouldn’t keep, I nodded. “Absolutely. How could I turn down two beautiful ladies?” I asked. I made a point to blatantly check them out. They both smelled strongly of a Britney Spears perfume; it was overwhelming. My mind immediately went to Livvy; she always smelled like warm snickerdoodle cookies. I was falling bad.

“Well, he and this girl went down there,” Julie said, snapping me out of my reverie. “It looked like they went into the wedding chapel, but it was probably the bar next to it, Cantina.”

“Oh this is awesome. He’s going to be so surprised,” I said. It wasn’t a lie; he would be surprised. Just not in a good way.

“Save a dance for me!” I called over my shoulder as I headed quickly down the strip.

I found Catina; it was right next door to Aladdin Wedding Chapel. Hoping that the girls’ tip was reliable, I walked into the chapel.

The place reminded me more of a funeral parlor than a wedding chapel; it was wall to wall flowers. A little old lady who looked about one hundred was dwarfed by the massive desk.

“Did you need some help, deary?” she croaked.

“Have you seen two young kids? One’s a blonde guy. He looks like me except he’s thinner in the face. The girl is shorter than him, shoulder length dark blonde hair.”

“Oh, yes. They came in here,” she said, nodding.

“Are they still here?”

I hoped I wasn’t too late.

“Oh no,” she said, shaking her head. “They thought we did Disney themed weddings. They were misled by our name.”

“Do you know where they went?” I said. Only my brother would think a place called Aladdin Wedding Chapel would be run by Mickey Mouse.

“I suggested Bon Mel Ami Wedding Chapel,” she said. “They said something about wanting a place with fewer flowers.”

I asked for directions to Bon Mel Ami. Leaving her to ponder the idea of too many flowers, I headed farther down the strip. When I found Aaron, I was going to kill him.

The Bon Mel Ami Wedding Chapel was busier than Aladdin Wedding Chapel. They had flowers, but they were tastefully done. I looked around at couples milling around. I worked my way up to the counter. A gentlemen in a nicely tailored suit was taking down names. After taking a booking he would give a couple a beeper that vibrated when it was their turn. It reminded me of waiting for a table at a restaurant.

How romantic, I thought to myself.

“May I help you?” the gentlemen said, interrupting my thought.

“Yeah,” I said. I went into the description of Aaron. The guy broke into a smile.

“Oh yes, number 65. Let me buzz them.”

At that moment I was grateful for the amount of people in the room. Aaron didn’t see me until I was within choking range. I pounced on him, grabbing him by the back of his dress shirt.

“Hey! What the---“ he sputtered. I dragged him outside before he could utter a complete sentence. Maile followed, but hung back, staying just inside the building.

“What the fuck are you doing, you little shithead?” I yelled. I gave him another good shake before letting him go. He stumbled back, anger etched across his face.

“I’m getting married,” Aaron said.

“That’s not a good idea,” I said, my voice laced with venom.

“Why, because you told me not to? I’m not a little kid Nick and you’re not my father.”

I looked closer at my little brother. His eyes were unfocused and he seemed to be sweating.

“Aaron, what are you on?” I said quietly.

“What? Nothing. I just want to get married and since someone wouldn’t stand up for us, you’re officially not invited.”

He began to walk back to the door. I grabbed his arm and swung him around. I missed the days when he was much shorter than me; we were almost eye to eye.

“Aaron, you need help,” I said. “Please, don’t do this. You’re high or upped on something and you’re not thinking rationally. Mom and Angel would be heartbroken that they weren’t here. And what about Leslie and Bobbie Jean?”

Aaron just laughed. He wiped his face on his sleeve; his nose was running.

“Why are you even here, man?” he asked.

“I just explained why!” I said impatiently. Without thinking I hit my good hand against my cast. Pain ricocheted through my fingers; I cursed.

“Dude, the roofies didn’t work? I thought those would at least keep you out of my hair until tomorrow,” Aaron said. He wiped his face again. He was beginning to breath heavier; his chest noticeably rose and fell.

“What the fuck are you talking about Aaron?” I said. “What roofies?”

“The ones I put in yours and your girlfriend’s drinks,” Aaron said. “I figured you’d be much more pleasant after a night of drug induced fucking.”

My blood ran cold.

“You,” I said slowly. “You laced those drinks with date rape drug?” My voice cracked; bile backed up in my throat. I thought I was going to be sick.

Aaron laughed. “What’s the big deal? You needed something to loosen you up. You’ve got a stick up your ass. C’mon man, admit it. You were a lot cooler when you were doing smack.”

“One of those drinks wasn’t for me,” I said. My heart was beating so hard it felt like it was going to fly out of my chest.

It was for Brian.

At the moment I didn’t care what Aaron did; he could get married, he could shoot up. I took off down the strip, feeling as if I had sunk into a nightmare that I couldn’t wake up from.

My first stop was the club. After pushing and shoving my way through I confirmed that they weren’t there. I spotted AJ and grabbed his arm.

“Have you seen Livvy?” I said. I gasped for air; my side hurt.

“Yeah,” AJ said. “She said she wasn’t feeling so hot so Brian took her back to the hotel.”

“How was Brian?” I asked.

AJ arched an eyebrow. “Fine. Why?”

I didn’t waste time to explain. Yelling a quick ‘thanks,’ I sprinted towards the Bellagio. After a quick stop at the VIP concierge desk I had another key to the penthouse. The elevator seemed to climb with deliberate slowness.

The second the doors opened to the 32nd floor, I was out, my hand on the knob. I almost forgot to breathe; I had a gut feeling, and it wasn’t good. The door knob turned without the need of my key; it was a bad sign.

I pushed open the door. The entertainment lounge was completely dark. I walked in, turning on a small lamp.

Clothes were strewn everywhere. I recognized some of the articles; the implication made my head spin. As I walked closer to the bedroom I listened for any sound; all around me was nothing but silence. The door stood slightly ajar.

I pushed the door open farther. My toe kicked a very white, very masculine sneaker.

The owner of the sneaker was naked and unconscious in bed, laying next to a very naked, also unconscious Liv.

It was Brian.

I walked over to the bed slowly; trying to convince myself I would wake up any moment. Brian was breathing normally, but was definitely not conscious. With my testosterone flaring and my rationality out the window, I couldn’t help it; I hit him hard. Feeling no better I looked at Liv.

Her coloring didn’t look good; she had a gray palor. Placing my fingers on her neck I checked her pulse. It was extremely slow.

Throwing a sheet over both of them so as not to be plagued with the declaration of the deed that was done, I dialed 911. After being assured that I’d have assistance in moments I stumbled into the bathroom to throw up.

Fate seemed to have purposely kept Livvy and I apart several times before; but this…

This was incomprehensible.

At the moment I had never hated anyone more than my brother.