Page 42 of Ice
I pulled up outside his crappy little shack about twenty minutes later, having ignored the constant buzzing of my phone in my pocket. I didn’t give a fuck who was trying to reach me. It was either Reacher, or someone else from the club who’d demand that I come home, or it would be her. Trying to convince me that my new premature firing problem didn’t make me less of a man, or some shit. We both knew that was bullshit. I was a disappointment in every possible way.
The fact was that, in every aspect of my life, I was better and more capable of everything, when I was being fuelled by an illegal substance.
“Ice, buddy, this is unexpected. I heard you’d died or something.” Mitch looked like shit. His greasy dark hair was sticking up, and he looked like he hadn’t eaten in months.
“You still killing yourself with that shit, huh?”
He frowned. “So you’re not here to buy?”
I rested my helmet on my bike.
“Not that crap, no. You know what I need.”
He nodded, and disappeared. I knew to never go inside that place. I did it once, but never again. A lot of his clients used on the premises, and so the place stank like vomit and shit, and Jesus… that’s why I don’t touch H. It destroys people. Coke wasn’t so bad. It took a long time to do lasting damage, and I planned to enjoy the ride.
“Here.”
“Usual rate?”
He smirked. “You wish. Add twenty on.”
I shrugged, because I just fucking wanted it, regardless of the cost, financial or otherwise. I stared at the small bag in my hand, knowing there was no going back.
“It’s good shit, right? Not cut with some poison.”
He counted the cash I’d handed him, and laughed.
“It’s the same shit you were taking before, Ice. Don’t be a stranger now.”
I waited until he disappeared inside the wooden shack, and then I stared back down at that tiny bag in my hand. They all wanted me off this stuff, but I was nothing without it. Useless. Worthless. A shell of the man I could be. I could be what she needed. I could give her what she needed.
A quick glance around me told that I couldn’t do this out here. The wind would steal it away from me. I took a deep breath and headed into his hovel, ready to make everything right again.
Lissa
Igotdressed,andmadeit as far as the door of Ice’s room before it crashed open, and Reacher stood there, with his blonde wife behind him.
He glared around the room, like he suspected I’d hidden Ice in here after all.
“What happened?”
I swallowed hard, crumbling a little under the weight of his disapproval, and anger.
“That’s confidential.”
“Bullshit. Confidential is for therapy. This wasn’t therapy. I’m not sure what the fuck it was, but let’s be honest… you shouldn’t be here.”
“Dammit, Reacher. Will you stop yelling at her and let her speak?” His wife stepped between us. “I’m Alicia. Clearly I’m his better half. Are you okay, love?”
I rubbed at my face, my head throbbing from crying.
“I didn’t mean to.”
Reacher grunted, and she shot him another glare.
“Tell us about it. I know you didn’t mean any harm.”
I wrapped one trembling hand in the other, wishing I could fix this mess.
