Page 179 of On The Rocks

She tilted her head. “So, if I don’t kill her, you’ll leave her?”

No. Absolutely fucking not.

The words screamed in my head, but I nodded. “Marc and Baron are here. We can all be back together.”

“Yes! Yes, we can.” She rushed over to me. “I knew it was a sign when I saw the band tagged on my social media. It’s very rude that you didn’t invite me.”

“We wanted it to be a surprise.” The pain abated, and I drew in a slow breath. “Marc came here to see you, especially.”

“He did?” Her voice was a whisper.

“Even if you tried to kill him.”

“I didn’t. I wouldn’t do that.” She stalked away from me. “He knows I didn’t mean it.” Her ability to construct her own fantasy version of events was crumbling. Then she whirled around before I could get to my phone. Her face was back in the smooth lines of control.

There she was. The Irene I’d lived with for years. The woman who never allowed blame to fall on her shoulders.

I swallowed down the knot of fear in my throat. “You can call him.”

She tapped the gun along her temple. “I probably shouldn’t do that.”

“Or Baron.” Slowly, I made my way toward the couch. “Maybe Baron could come here too. We could have our own reunion, right here.”

Lennon moaned from the couch.

“God, I have to dose her again.” Annoyed, Irene stalked over to the black bag on the dining room table.

While her back was to me, I turned my body and slipped my hand into my pocket. I found the button on the correct side of my iPhone and pressed it four times.

I couldn’t tell if it went through, but God, I hoped so.

She came back down the stairs with a small, plastic cylinder.

“What is that?”

“Just some of the good stuff. Keeps her quiet.”

I took a step toward her, fear turning to panic. “What’s the good stuff?”

“I don’t know. I bought it from Andy.”

Her fucking dealer. God knew what that was.

“She doesn’t need any more, Irene. You said you wouldn’t kill her.”

“It’s not going to kill her. Just makes it so she can’t move and stays asleep. It’s fine.”

That didn’t sound like her usual drugs or the kind she should have too much of. “How many times did you dose her?”

“I don’t know. Four, maybe?”

Fear left a wash of ice down my spine. I could only hope it was a low dose. Andy wasn’t the most reliable guy for anything other than street drugs. “Let’s just call Baron. We don’t have to worry about Lennon right now.”

“Don’t say her name.” She set the injector on the side table. “She doesn’t matter. Only I matter.” She seethed. “Wematter.”

The first part was the reality of my situation. She couldn’t even mask that she thought about anyone other than herself right now. How did we not see how dangerous she was before?

I pulled out my phone. “Let’s just call him now.”

---