Page 4 of Blue

“She wanted to smoke a bowl earlier,” Kane said to Sam. “Blue has eighths. Take a hit off of this shit.” He passed the bowl.

Sam blew a stream of smoke toward the ceiling. “Fuck, that’s good. How much?”

My attention was on the hallway, willing a petite blonde to come striding into the room. I didn’t care if she was high. I fucking needed Kiss back in my orbit.

“Blue?”

I turned to Kane and cocked a brow.

“Do you have a bag for my friend?”

I reached into my pocket and tossed a baggie onto the table. Sam inspected the buds, opened the baggie, and sniffed the weed.

Cruz stared at the doorway. Two girls came into the trailer. One had curly red hair hanging to her juicy ass.A tight T-shirt had been altered with a pair of scissors to make room for her tits. The other had short, dark hair, and she clung to a guy with a shaved head and a face full of tatts. The guy’s gaze lingered for a moment on Cruz, then went to Sam. The redhead smiled and waved at Cruz. Maybe I’d been idolizing the wrong Heller.

“Anyone you know?” I asked with a smirk on my face.

Cruz’s only reply was a barely discernable nod.

“I’ll take another bag.” Sam reached into his pocket and pulled out a couple of balloons mixed in with his money. “Cash or trade?”

“Cash.” Fuck heroin. I owned my truths. One hit, and I’d be hooked. Maybe that’s why I understood Kiss and the appeal of just saying fuck it and letting addiction have me. I stuffed the money into my pocket.

Cruz casually stood, but his hand tapped against his thigh. “Time to go.”

Not yet. I needed in the back bedroom where a girl was fucked up on heroin and Xanax.

Before I could speak, Cruz draped an arm over my shoulder. “Through the bedroom.” We weaved through the short, crowded hall.

“Is there a problem?” Kane asked, following us into the bedroom.

“Not with you and me,” Cruz said to Kane. “But I don’t like your friends.”

Bile rose into my throat. Needles covered the top of the dresser. Blood splatter from junkies dotted the walls. Kiss and another girl sat on the bed with a couple of guys. She looked like shit. Dark bruises circled her eyes. How long had she been binging?

Her gaze connected with mine, and tears filled her eyes. She whispered, “Blue,” and shook her head. “Why are you here?”

I rushed to her side, and she curled into herself.

“Why the fuck areyouhere?” I asked. “Fuck, Kiss. Why are you doing this?”

“I’m sorry,” she almost didn’t speak the words, but her lips moved.

“You should be. Are you smoking or shooting?” Both were a death sentence for this girl. I flung her paraphernalia, a straw and foils, across the room. “You’re fucking better than this.”

“Stop,” she whimpered.

“Dude, what’s your problem?” one of the guys on the bed asked as he tightened a tourniquet on his arm.

Cruz crossed to the window, pried it open, and shoved out the screen. “I’m not fucking around,” he said to me. “We need to go, now.”

“What the fuck is going on?” Kane raked his fingers through his hair.

“Do you know him?” Sam asked Kiss.

“She does, and she’s coming with me.” I grabbed her hand, pulled her to me, and lifted her into my arms.

“I need my backpack.”

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