Beyond Addiction by Kit Rocha Read Free Book Online Page B

poured himself a generous helping of whiskey. “I’m sorry, man. I am. If I’d had any other option—”
    “Forget Fleming’s men,” he interrupted. “Or Beckett’s, or whoever the fuck took over. The other sector leaders could want your head.”
    It was true enough. For the first time in forever, the thought of dying stirred a twinge of regret. He’d been barreling toward death for so long, it was hard to believe he could still have a reason to live. But there she was, upstairs in a bathtub, trusting him to get her through this.
    “My head, yeah.” He knocked his glass against the whiskey bottle. “If it comes to that, they can have it. But if you keep Trix safe, O’Kane’ll keep you safe. Believe me, Shipp. That man has more pull with the other sectors than anyone else.”
    “If you’re so ready to die—if you’re not after that pull yourself—then what are you doing with Ginger up there?”
    “You know that favor you owe me?”
    “No need to be delicate,” Shipp shot back. “You saved my life. I remember.”
    It hadn’t been a big deal—for Finn. He’d been cold already, still grieving the loss of Tracy. But he’d been in the wrong place at the right time, and so fucking tired of watching good people die. “Yeah, well, I didn’t save hers.”
    “Did you take a whack to the head? Because you...” Shipp trailed off, his confused expression easing as realization dawned. “That’s her.”
    Finn drank his shot. Then he poured another and drank that, too. The physical burn helped to distract him from the one in his chest, the rising tangle of grief and rage he still couldn’t face dead on, because it was fresh again. Raw.
    He hadn’t saved Trix’s life. She’d saved her own. “Fleming gave her enough of the good stuff to OD a half-dozen times over. He did it to trap her. To take her from me, because he didn’t like me having anything beautiful in my life.”
    Shipp muttered another curse, this time under his breath. “That’s a lot of history. Lot of baggage.”
    “That’s a lot of debt,” Finn corrected. But it was his, not Shipp’s, so he sighed as he poured a third shot. “No one inside Five has any reason to look in this direction, unless one of your clients admits who sells him his illegal stims. I wouldn’t bring danger down on you and Alya.”
    “Someone always talks.”
    “Only if someone asks the right questions. Last I saw, they were all waiting for us to make a dash for O’Kane’s territory.”
    Shipp nodded and took a long drag off his cigarette. “What’s your plan?”
    He only had one—the one that would redeem and break him at the same time. “Get her home.”
    “ After that, big guy.”
    That was the question, wasn’t it? If there could be an after in a world where Trix was alive but he wasn’t welcome in the home she couldn’t—and shouldn’t—leave. “Fuck if I know.”
    “Fair enough.” Shipp shoved the nearly empty bottle of whiskey at him. “Does she know you don’t know?”
    He’d already had enough liquor to fuzz his nerves, but he dumped the rest of the amber liquid into his glass anyway. “We’ve been running for our damn lives. Not a lot of time for chats about our hopes and dreams.”
    “Doesn’t take long to say, ‘Don’t make big eyes at me, honey, I’m kinda planning on dying,’ does it?”
    No time at all. The real killer was all the time they would waste arguing about it afterwards—time she’d spend distracted from the goal of getting her ass safely home. “You’re an asshole, you know that?”
    Shipp laughed. “Of course I am. If I was a nice guy, you wouldn’t come around anymore.”
    “Doesn’t explain why Alya puts up with you.”
    “She loves me. That makes up for damn near anything.”
    Oh, that was a dangerous fucking thought. Like waving a prime cut of steak under the nose of a starving dog. “Now you’re just bragging.”
    Shipp sobered, a muscle in his jaw clenching. “Shit, Finn. It’s no kind of