Page 42 of Savage Spades

“How well this date goes.”

He smirked before pulling the truck away from the curb. “I have to run by my apartment really fast.”

“The one your sister is staying at?” she asked.

He nodded. “Yeah. I have to pick up a few things for the clubhouse.”

She sat back in the seat as he drove. The scent of his woodsy cologne relaxed her, and they stayed in comfortable silence until he pulled up to the apartment complex.

“Come on,” he said as he turned off the truck.

She hesitated. “You want me to meet your sister?”

His sister was his only family member besides his dad, who was in prison. What if his sister didn’t like her?

“She’ll be ecstatic to see me with a girl.”

That put her a little bit more at ease. He got out of the truck and she followed behind him up the stairs until they came to a stop at a black apartment door. Kit unlocked the door and walked in first.

“Megan,” he called. She stepped in behind him and closed the door. “She’s probably out. Feel free to look around. I just have to grab a few things.”

He disappeared and she looked around the small, one-bedroom apartment. It was a pretty standard bachelor pad with minimum furniture but a massive TV. The place was clean--probably due to his sister.

“Fuck!” Kit’s voice echoed through the apartment.

Cam ran toward the sound, stopping in her tracks as she saw a dark-haired woman passed out on the bathroom floor. Kit crouched down next to her and shook her.

“Megan!” he yelled before checking her pulse.

Cam grabbed her phone from her back pocket and called 911.

“Nine-one-one. What’s your location?” the operator asked.

She looked over at Kit. “What’s the address?”

“Three forty-one Pick Street,” Kit said.

She repeated the address to the operator.

“What’s your emergency?”

“Um, my friend’s sister passed out and--”

“She overdosed,” Kit interrupted. He stood up and went to the sink and cupped his hands under the water. Once he had enough, he threw it on his sister’s face in an attempt to shock her back awake. When nothing happened, he slammed his fist into the wall.

Chapter Fifteen

Kit

They wheeled Megan down a long hallway and through a set of double doors. He was utterly useless as he stood there, staring at the closed doors. Cam tugged on his arm. In the chaos of finding Megan, he’d almost forgotten she was there.

Kit followed her to the waiting area where they sat in a couple of old, cushioned, red chairs. He’d believed Megan. She’d looked so much better than the last time he’d seen her. His hands formed fists as he thought about it. How long had she been shooting up? Had she been hooked on drugs this whole time? Was it their argument that sent her over the edge? Cam placed a hand on his knee that he hadn’t realized he’d been bouncing. He looked at her concerned face, and ran a hand over his face.

“I’m sorry...” he started.

“Don't be.” She scooted closer to him and rubbed a hand down his arm. “She’ll be okay.”

He wanted to believe that, but he didn’t know. Megan still had a heartbeat when the ambulance got to the apartment, but it was faint. Who knows how much shit she’d pushed into her veins. He should have told her ‘no’ when she wanted to come back. Coming back to the same places can be triggering for a drug addict. He’d known that, but he still allowed her to stay in his apartment. Like an enabler; he’d given her everything she’d needed to keep using drugs. Had she even really gone to rehab, or was everything she told him a lie?

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