Page 38 of Winter's End

Hillary settled into the couch beside me, clearly enjoying Stanley’s simmering rage. I basked in it too, even with the scars to remind me how vicious he was.

“We need to put on a united front,” Camden smiled, playing good cop to Stan’s bad cop.

Hillary linked her fingers through mine and winked. “We won’t have a problem with that, will we, Loggie-bear?”

“Not at all, dearest,” I answered dryly, but giving her one hell of a side-eye. She was enjoying this too much.

“Most of the attendees are in the top five percent, if not one-percenters,” Camden said. “The Governor and Mayor will be there, and Georgio has relatives flying in. It’s important our families appear to be as united as ever.”

Family flying in … I made a note to bring that up at the next Misfit Meeting. What was my life coming to?

“And they will.” It was my turn to respond—Hill had been taking the weight for most of this meeting. “All we’ve ever done is pretend; the gala won’t be any different.”

I stood and slid on my suit jacket from the back of the couch, smoothing my palms over the material before buttoning it.

“I have another meeting. I hope I don’t have to see you fuckers until the ball.”

I nodded to Hill and tossed off a salute to the two men I’d put into a grave myself.

Logan Eccles:I need your help.

Travis Blacksheep:… Ok?

Logan Eccles:Meet me at Kirby Park at 7.

Travis Blacksheep:I have to work at 7. I’ll see you at 6:30?

Travis Blacksheep:Logan?

Travis Blacksheep: …

Logan Eccles:7.

Travis Blacksheep:…

Travis Blacksheep:Fuck, okay, I’ll be there for 7.

My will power took a fucking beating as I waited for Travis to show up.

I sat in my car for an hour. The packet of powder taunted me in the center console, just waiting to be inhaled and absorbed into my addicted fucking brain.

It was solely my ego that had stopped me until this point; the satisfaction in knowing the chemical didn’t have its claws in me every day made me want to do better—to be more than a junkie businessman who couldn’t function without a hit.

That, and the picture of a pained and disappointed Princess if she found out I relapsed. The little boy with mommy issues wanted Winter to be proud of me. A shrink could tell me all the ways I was fucked up fromthatone later.

I sat in the spring sun as it crested over the mountain. May was warm in these parts, and I cracked my windows to let in the fresh air; it didn’t do a fucking thing to calm the gnawing hunger in my chest.

Travis’ pathetic excuse for a car rolled up another twenty minutes later. How he could have so much swagger when he was dirt-ass poor was beyond me.

I palmed the packet and got out of my vehicle, moving to sit on the warm hood while I waited for his driver’s side door to fall off.

“I’m not your lackey, you know,” he fumed as he got out of his junk-drawer on wheels.

“You’re still here.” I folded my arms smugly.

“Yeah, and now I’m regretting it.” He glared at me warily before dropping his shoulders and sitting down uninvited beside me. The hood creaked under our combined weight. “What do you want, Logan?”

I swallowed, all arrogance leaving me as I contemplated just telling him to fuck off and melting into drug-addled oblivion. I couldn’t come this far and fuck it all up. But I couldn’t trust myself to do it on my own.

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