Page 110 of The Fix

“Me, duh.” Mac rolls his eyes, drawing my gaze to the dark bags still present beneath them, and holds a hand out in offering. “Someone didn’t work out in the yard like the rest of the inmates.”

Grasping his hand tight, I yank myself to my feet. “Har har, Mackie.”

The drummer snorts, his face now level with mine, and that’s when I smell it.

The sweet serenity of liquor coating his breath and clinging to me with each moment he sticks close by.

I drop his hand and step back.

Thankfully, he uses the release as means to push my shoulder, spinning me in the direction of the kitchen. “C’mon, there’s mac and cake.”

My stomach rolls.

My hands go clammy.

A plate is thrust into my trembling hands, filled with shit I only pick at when I finally take a seat, and dismiss completely when seats are rotated and Mac ends up back beside me.

He’s perched on the back of the couch, cradling a plate filled with nothing but mac and cheese that does nothing to cover the scent of alcohol clinging to my senses.

Rex drones on about his kids, all the milestones they’ve had since I’ve been gone.

Fin fills everyone in on the updates to his place, the parlor Cedar now owns, which entices the guys to talk about the ink they want next, but I sit silent, hearing none of it.

Because while I’ve missed these men, the ones I call brothers, I can’t stop the churning of my stomach or the impulses threatening to surface.

Ones that scream for me to head to the kitchen and check to see if Rex’s liquor cabinet is fully stocked. Or lean closer to Mac, if only to catch the scent.

Just one …

I miss it.

My mouth goes dry.

The fiending is too much.

Thoughts circling, I thrust to my feet. “I gotta go.”

“Go? You just got here,” someone grumbles but I’m already moving across the room, my mostly full plate in my hands and prepped for the trash.

“Yeah, there’s …” I shake my head, hoping the movement will clear it enough. “Someone I need to see.”

Anna. I need to find Anna.

She’s the only one who matters right now.

Not me, or this demon inside me, or the shit that’s happened in the last few months.

I’m at the elevator when Leo catches up to me and spins me, his hand landing on my shoulder.

The despondent look in his eyes says it all before his words do. “Toby … she’s not here.”

“Then tell me where she is.” My heart hammers, my breathing ragged. “I have to know, Le.”

He shakes his head.

“She’s gone, man.”

Part III

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