Page 82 of Full Throttle

I would not stop—I couldn’t stop—even if I wanted to.

She was mine to protect.

That would never change, regardless of her hatred for me.

“Fuck,” I muttered, my eyes never leaving the blinking yellow dot on my screen.

Blindly, I leaned over, popping open the glove box before grabbing my emergency pack of cigs.

The box was light in my hands, but I knew the heavy burden it held. My mother’s addiction was one of the darker parts of my childhood. When nicotine couldn’t numb her, she moved to alcohol, and then, eventually, hard drugs. I didn’t start smoking until I was forced into the Bratva, working directly under Kavi. He wanted to make sure that my brother’s debt was paid, and so, he kept a close eye on me, watching me do things people have nightmares about. He made me his weapon, and I had no choice but to follow through with each order he gave. To cope with the bloodshed, I needed something to calm my nerves.

Sex only made me think of Dominique, so fucking a random woman never helped.

Alcohol made me feel like a monster, stirring the demon inside me that came from my mother.

But cigarettes? After that first inhale, I felt like I could breathe for the first time in years.

I only smoked when I intended on taking a life, and that wasn’t the case right now. For fuck's sake, though, I needed to breathe. I needed to clear my head. I needed Dominique to drive back to Sullie’s, slip on my fucking t-shirt, and go to sleep.

Then, and only then, would I be able to go back to my home and get some fucking rest.

As I sat there watching her dot, a pack of cigarettes in hand, my other cell phone began ringing. Without a second glance at the small box, I tossed them back into the glove box and answered.

“Cain.”

“You find her?” Jer’s voice on the other end of the line was filled with anxiety.

I refused to give in to the scoff in my throat. “Found her a while ago, Jer,” I told him, looking up from the screen to the top of the parking garage, catching a glimpse of her yellow Mazda.

“Is she—”

“She’s fine,” I said, cutting him off. “I told Lee the second I found her.”

He was quiet for a moment. “How did you find her?”

“Took the route of the race,” I told him, lying through my teeth.

“Right,” he muttered.

“How’s Ivan?” I asked, needing to the change the fucking subject.

“He woke up around six. Dom and I questioned him, and he gave us a few names, but they aren’t high ranking members,” he explained, sounding frustrated.

“I’ll get more out of him,” I vowed.

In the background, I heard Casey yell for him. At the sound of her voice, another question popped up. “How’s Casey?”

“Craving lasagna and mint chocolate chip ice cream,” he answered, disgusted.

I blinked. “Together?”

He grunted. “Yes.”

“Jesus,” I mumbled my eyes falling back down to the screen to find the yellow dot slowly moving. Instinctively, I shut off my headlights before my eyes shot to the exit of the garage, waiting. “How did the race go?”

“Good. Leon got a new toy, and Dontell brought in twenty grand.”

I found a swell of pride rising in my chest. Leon may be the best, but Dontell was damn good—just like me. A sense of brotherhood had fallen over us since I arrived last fall, and I knew that nothing would keep me from losing it. Jer continued talking, reverting to Ivan and the pointless shit he admitted. These were things I already knew, thing I’d already told everyone.

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