Ryatt wore Cruz’s sweats, and I pulled on his T-shirt.
“We need to wrap your wrists again,” I said as we walked back to the bedroom.
Inside the room, Blue sat in a chair in the corner, and Cruz leaned against the wall. Someone had put the blanket back on the bed. Kiss sat on the end with her hands clasped in her lap, trembling lips, and red-rimmed eyes glossy with unshed tears.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
Chapter Ten
Ryatt
“We need to talk,” Cruz said.
Every fucking bone in my body had passed the point of exhaustion. Not only did my ribs ache, but my stomach was empty, and I was too tired to eat. But it looked like I was having another conversation.
Cruz crossed the room, opened his drawer, and handed me a T-shirt and McKelle a pair of boxers.
“Thanks.” McKelle slipped on the boxers then grabbed the ointment and bandages Levi had left.
Once I pulled the shirt on, I leaned against the dresser. McKelle took my hand in hers and treated the abrasions on my wrists. The smile on her lips didn’t reach her eyes. She was worried. The tension in the room thickened. I could feel the pressure weighing on me.
“What’s going on?” I asked. I could sort of get why Kiss would be here. We were each other’s sponsors in NA, but not in the middle of the night. Anything I had to say to Kiss could wait until morning or at a meeting at the community center over cookies and coffee.
Cruz’s gaze shifted from me to Blue. All Blue and I had in common was Kiss. So why was he tripping?
Blue plucked at the threads of the worn knees of his jeans. “I’m not sure where to start.”
“It’s my fault,” Kiss said as tears slipped onto her cheeks. “Ryatt, I’m so sorry.”
Sorry for what?
“It’s not your fault.” Blue rubbed his palms on his thighs. “None of this is your fault. It’s mine.”
McKelle’s brows pinched. It seemed like we were both confused.
“Storytime,” Cruz said. “Get comfortable.” He opened the window and then tapped a cigarette from his pack. “Because this shit tonight started months ago.”
“I know what you’re going through,” Blue said to me. “A couple months ago some mafia fucks sent a message to Bullet by leaving me for dead at Good Girl Studios.”
“I was trying to get clean,” Kiss said. “It was my fault Blue was hurt. That was enough of a reason for me to go back to heroin. I’d been to rehab,” she said to me. “But I was always looking for a reason to use so I started hitting parties with my dealer.”
A tingle prickled the back of my neck. The only reason they were here was because this story somehow connected to me.
Cruz blew a stream of smoke through the open window. “As soon as Blue was on his feet again, we went looking for her. Trap houses, parties, Washington Street Park.”
“I wasn’t going to lose her to the streets,” Blue said. “I wasn’t giving up on us. I needed Cruz’s help getting into the places where I had a chance of finding Kiss. He’s the Mr. Rodgers of the fucking neighborhood.”
Cruz tapped ash on the windowsill. “I know some people. One of those is a friend. Kane.”
A vibration started low in my gut. I gripped the edge of the dresser to keep my hands from shaking. “I know Kane.”
Cruz nodded. “I know. With the history I have with Kane, I’m surprised we haven’t met before now.”
McKelle’s shoulders stiffened, and she focused on my wounds, dabbing them with ointment. “Cruz knows everyone.”
There was more story here, but I’d wait for her to tell me. Right now, I wanted to know how the fuck Blue, Kiss, and Cruz connected to Kane and the Kings.
“Kane’s place is known for drugs,” Cruz said. “Blue and I hit one of his parties, and Kiss was there.”
