“Take out my coke.”
He obeys, hands shaking.
I use the muzzle of the gun to drag the hem of Haven’s hoodie up where it’s threatening to obscure her plump little tits. Her breath hitches when I draw a circle over her nipple with the cool metal.
Kai takes out the small baggie of white powder and holds it out to me.
I huff out a laugh. Shake my head. Wave the gun down her body.
“Flip her over. Two lines, one on each ass cheek.”
I aim the gun at her head again.
“And Haven, sweet girl? Don’t move. It’s the last of my coke, and I’ll be very, very upset if you spill it.”
Chapter 15
Kai
I gently turn Haven over, my ears ringing. But not loud enough to drown out her desperate, whispered, “Kai, please. Don’t do this.”
Every word stabs into me like a fucking knife.
But I do what Rooke says, because he’s holding a fucking gun on us and I?—
would have done it anyway
—don’t have a choice.
And because some sick part of me wants to see how far I’ll go before I completely lose myself.
I don’t know how the hell to handle coke. I’ve never done it in my life. But the baggie’s small enough that when I tap it lightly with my finger, only a little sprinkles out.
Haven shivers like she can feel those tiny crumbs touching her skin. Maybe she can. My body is electrified. Raw. Pulsing. Desperate.
“Good.” Rooke says, and it’s my turn to shiver when he moves the muzzle to my temple. “Go ahead.”
“I don’t want—“ I cut off when he presses the muzzle harder against me.
I’ve handled enough guns in my life that I know the safety’s off. And with his finger curled around the trigger, all it will take is a loud noise to startle him, and I’m fucking dead.
Haven covered in my blood and brain matter.
The only thing worse than dying would be leaving her alone with him, and we both know it.
I drop my head, close a nostril, and snort up one of the lines. Haven whimpers, but holds still. She’s still wearing the blindfold, but my girl’s clever enough to know there’s some serious shit going down behind her. Above her. Beside her.
Jesus. Mother. Fucking. Christ. What. The. Fuck. Is. This. Shit.
I struggle desperately past the searing numbness to find conscious thought, conscious movement. Falling back. Holding onto the sheets like the bed is a surfboard and I’m riding a fucking tsunami.
All the pain, all the worry, all the emotions are gone in a flash.
Fuck. I’ve never been this clear on anything in my life. It’s like my brain is finally firing on all synapses.
How the fuck can I be questioning a single thing about tonight?
I’m alive.
