Page 77 of Scarlet Angel

“You know I did.”

“Did you shoot up with her?”

“Bugger off. I don’t touch it.”

“Did she? Were you watching, or?—”

“She’s not a little tyke, is she? I think she might’ve done some blow. But…what’d she OD on?”

“Heroin.”

“Mate, no. Scout’s honor. Didn’t see that shite.”

I pace the lot. The lights at the nearby intersection flick red.

“Christ. But thank god. I thought you were calling me, saying you’d been shot up.”

“What are you on about?”

“Have you not heard? There’s a hit on Scarlet Gagliano. Official investigation opened. An open hit’s been placed. If you don’t want to be collateral, I suggest you send the ginger packing.”

CHAPTER20

SCARLET

I’ve seen men with grave expressions like Nick’s before. My gaze drops to his waist, searching for the telltale bump beneath his jacket.

“Are you ready?” he asks.

“The nurse left for the wheelchair,” I answer.

“Can’t you walk?” He’s derisive and surly to his sister, but she’s not flustered by his gruff tone.

We’ve been tucked away in accident and emergency all day. The doctor recommended she stay, in an abundance of caution, overnight, but Nick declined. He’s been in and out all day, presumably sorting business.

Curious about her perspective and with little else to say, I asked Lina what he does, and she gave a half-hearted, “What doesn’t he do?”

She drops her head, looking down at her legs. She’s in the clothes I found her in, and there’s a dark stain on her Jodhpurs that looks suspiciously like horse manure.

“Let’s wait for the wheelchair,” I say to Nick, meeting his eyes.

It’s hard to believe this morning he was inside me and we were in sync. At the moment, he has the wild, harried look of a demented serial killer.

“I can’t wait to crawl into my bed,” Lina says, rubbing her temple.

“Have you still got a headache?” I ask.

“I don’t feel good,” she mumbles.

“You’re not going home,” Nick says.

“What?” Lina and I ask simultaneously.

“I found a program that’s going to take you in.”

“I’m not going to rehab.” Her gaze is down, shoulders hunched. “I don’t need it.”

“It’s not up for debate.” He pulls a mobile out of his pocket. “I’ll be outside.”

---