Page 22 of Smoke and Mirrors
“It was my fault. I made him throw it away.” My cheeks flamed. “He mixed it with alcohol and I kind of flipped out.”
Raz gave me a long, calculated stare. “And what happened?”
“He threw the whole bottle out the window and it was gone the next morning.”
He sighed deeply. A long stretch of silence passed between us and I could only begin to speculate what he was thinking.
“So his pain has not gotten better?” he asked in a flat voice.
“No, it doesn’t seem to be.”
“Then he needs more than pain management.”
I glanced up. “Believe me, I tried telling him that. But you know how stubborn he is.”
Razvan huffed out a breath, regarding me cooly as he tipped his chin upward. He seemed to be deciding whether to stab, burn, or kiss me. If he chose the latter, I promised I wouldn’t hold it against him this time.
“And why should I help again?” He ran his tongue along his teeth. “I was already generous once. Now I’m being begged again three days later? I’m reminded of a junkie that needs a fix.”
“Connor isnota junkie!” I finally lost my cool.
“He mixed with booze, no?” Razvan rubbed the dark stubble on his jaw.
“He was having a really hard day. The pain is unbearable to him, Raz. He’s really suffering.” My desperation grew like a balloon on the verge of popping. At any moment, I was ready to fall to my knees and truly beg.
“Poor human,” he sneered. “Yes, nothing but a life of pain and suffering. I wouldn’t know anything about that, not even if I had beg anyone for relief.”
His sarcasm bled through like acid. Like Hunter, he’d been sold to a carnival, abused and drugged for entertainment. But even worse, he was the first and only shifter in his family for generations. They had long since forgotten about their dragon heritage and saw his shift as a curse. His own family sold their son away.
I bit my tongue, fighting the urge to snap back.You couldn’t have suffered all that badly if you’re still here.But I truly didn’t know why Razvan was still in this business now that he was free. And I couldn’t make this about him and me again. I had to remember who I was here for.
“Raz, Connor’s always been good to you. He considers you a friend. Can you please put aside whatever this is between you and me? For him? He’d do it for you.”
“I’m not a pill dispensary,” the tattooed dragon shifter growled. “I helped him once and was happy to do it. You fucked up and expect the same generosity again? Not happening, not without telling me what I get out of this.”
“How about your full pay for closing night?” I crossed my arms, mimicking his stance. “Instead of getting cheated out of it?”
His eyes heated as his lips curled into a snarl. “What are you getting at?”
“Connor can’t perform when he’s in pain. If he’s not part of the show, attendees will walk out. They might demand refunds. And they sure as hell won’t see your act, or Hunter’s, or anyone else’s. His absence will make the whole show suffer, which means we all take the hit on our paychecks when this is over.”
Another uncomfortable silence. He could take one of those knives on the table behind him and use it to cut the tension between us. The air in this tent felt stifling and hot. I couldn’t begin to tell if it was the weather, his dragon shift heating up, or the mounting tension due to us being alone in this tent with its messy bed.
His shoulders cut through the air abruptly as he turned, rounding the table to rummage through a backpack leaning against one of the tent supports. I stood frozen, watching, not wanting to blow this chance by saying or doing something to make him change his mind.
After a moment, Raz returned to me holding a small, plastic baggie in his tattooed palm. Inside it were six white round tablets.
“This is not exactly the same, it’s generic,” he muttered. “But it’ll do the job.”
“Thank you, Razvan,” I whispered, reaching toward his open palm.
Just before my skin could make contact with his, he closed his fingers around the pills and yanked it out of my reach.
“Remember, this has nothing to do with me and you,” he snarled. “I’m covering my own ass. And Connor owes me now.”
I swallowed the dry lump in my throat. “Got it,” I choked out. “I’ll let him know.”
Without another word he dropped the baggie into my hand, seemingly careful to not touch my skin directly. It hurt more than I cared to admit.
