Page 47 of Sin Like the Devil

“Everything we brought with us?” I press the heels of my palms into my weary eyes. “Goddammit, Raine.”

“I’ll figure it out,” Raine says in a frail voice. “Leave me alone.”

This won’t even be the worst of it. He’s in for a world of misery if he doesn’t re-up. Keeping him jacked enough to function but sober enough to avoid overdosing has occupied a lot of the last year.

Lennox usually handles him solo. He’s the protective type, and ever the bleeding heart beneath his aggression, he took Raine under his wing last year when he arrived.

“What do we do?” Lennox worries his lip with his canine.

“We’ve got nothing and no supply routes in here.” I watch as Raine’s teeth start chattering, his entire body still trembling. “You know who controls contraband in Harrowdean.”

“Motherfuck!” Lennox slams a clenched fist against the floor. “I refuse to ask that whore for help.”

“Then Raine will have to detox.”

“Without medical supervision? He could fucking die!”

And knowing the shit that Raine’s spent his life snorting, popping and once upon a time even injecting, that’s a very real possibility. He ended up here for a good reason. Five failed stints in rehab and now this place.

“Can we buy from another patient?” Lennox suggests.

“Who? We don’t know these people.”

“You’re not being very helpful, Xan.” Lennox moves to grip Raine’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s move first.”

Sliding a hand under his arm, I help Lennox manoeuvre Raine between us. He’s limper than a strand of cooked spaghetti and groans in pain at even the slightest movements. This is going to be a nightmare.

“How do we do this?” Lennox mutters to himself.

“There’s no discreet way to do it.”

“We have to try. He can’t stay here, anyone could walk in.”

“Medical wing?”

Raine jerks in our arms. “B-Better leave m-me. No doctors.”

“He’s right,” Lennox agrees unhappily. “I don’t trust these assholes. Not after what they did to us.”

“Let’s just get somewhere private.”

Half-carrying, half-dragging Raine across the room, even with our strength, we stumble several times. He’s a dead weight between us.

We get close to the door before falling into a music stand, causing a loud clatter. Lennox trips and knocks over several chairs on the way down.

“Shit!” he groans.

Grasping Raine’s waist, I hold him upright. “Good job.”

“Fuck off, Xan.”

Lennox makes even more noise, detangling his limbs and awkwardly lumbering to his feet. No one could ever accuse him of being graceful at his size. The lump of meat is deadly in his own right, but subtlety isn’t his forte. It’s why we make such an excellent team.

Just as he’s brushing off his form-fitting sweats to retake his position, the door to the music room crashes open.

“Raine?”

Sweetheart-shaped face dappled with flecks of paint, Ripley’s wild curls are pinned on top of her head by two paintbrushes. She’s in her usual I don’t give a fuck outfit, complete with a slashed black t-shirt depicting some obscure anime show I’ve never heard of.

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