5:30 PM
Sloss Furnaces
Dane Drake hugged himself against the chill that came from deep inside. He couldn’t shake it. Felt sick as shit. He wanted …
He shuddered. No, he didn’t want, he needed.
Needed it so bad.
One hit … one fucking line of coke and he’d be okay.
His body shook so hard he could barely stand straight. But she’d be here soon and everything would be all right. She always knew what to do.
The sound of tires crunching on gravel jerked his attention to the Lexus rolling into the area designated as staff parking. Relief rushed through him, making his knees want to give way. Jesus, he thought for sure he’d die before she got here.
He licked his lips as she climbed out of the driver’s side of the vehicle. The black skirt she wore was short and tight; the jacket, too. Damn. As sick as he felt, his dick took notice. Made him think about rowdy sex.
Like that was going to happen. This bitch was as cold as ice. She was the kind who’d go Lorena Bobbitt on a guy. His abdomen tightened. Fuck that shit.
Focus, man. She didn’t like it when he got this screwed up. Get it together. Don’t let her see the desperation … or the fear.
He waited for her next to the fence under the overpass. Nobody ever parked this far out of the way. At this time of day the Birmingham landmark was pretty much deserted except for the clerk in the gift shop. Dane didn’t have to worry about anybody looking here for him … or seeing him with her.
“Dane,” she said as she approached, five-hundred-dollar sunglasses shielding her eyes.
His mouth felt so damned dry. His gut was on fire and all knotted up. He needed something … now. Take it slow, talk rationally. Don’t piss her off. “I’m sick.” He took a deep, deliberate breath. “I need …” He swallowed the taste of bile. “ … something and I can’t go to anybody I know.”
She studied him a moment from behind those dark glasses before folding her arms over her chest. “And we both understand the reason you can’t go to anyone, don’t we?”
Shit. Why the fuck was she mad at him? He’d made a mistake. He barely even remembered anything. “It was … it just happened. Got out of control,” he reminded her. Why did she have to make this hard? Sweat beaded on his skin. His body began to shake again. “What was I supposed to do?”
“I saved your ass, Dane.” She moved closer, so close he could smell the faint scent of her perfume. “You know what they’d do to you if they found out.”
Shit. He jerked his head up and down. “I know. You can’t tell.” Panic erupted inside him. “Please.” Fury rushed in on the heels of the panic. She had no right making him feel like scum. His jaw hardened. He was Dane Drake; son of a US fucking senator! “You’ll do what my father pays you to do.”
She reached up. He tensed. When she removed her glasses, she stared straight into his eyes, hers arctic-cold. Then she laughed. “You’re right.” She nodded once in acknowledgment of his puny victory. “Since I pride myself on guaranteeing that a client gets his money’s worth, perhaps
I should give him all the details of our most recent transaction.”
Dane stiffened with the images that flooded his aching brain. Blood. Everywhere. Digging frantically through pockets. He shuddered. Closed his eyes and drove away the mental pictures.
“That’s what I thought.”
Anger spewed again, making him shake even harder. “I’m sick,” he growled.
She held out her hand. “Give me your cell phone.”
His entire body sagged with relief. She was going to help him. He dug his cell from the pocket of his jeans and handed it to her.
After entering a number she closed the phone and handed it back to him. “Make the call. He’ll take care of your needs.”
Dane tried to conceal the tremor in his hand as he took back his phone. Didn’t work.
“Find someplace to lay low for a while.” She tucked her sunglasses back into place. “Don’t talk to anyone. I’ll contact you when it’s safe to come out and play again.”
He nodded.
“Look at me, Dane.”
He stared into those dark lenses.
“Don’t fuck up. You know what will happen if you do.”
He watched her walk back to her car. Yeah, he knew what would happen.
A part of him didn’t give a damn. Wanted this to be over. He shut his eyes tight. Don’t look back! Don’t think about it. All that goddamned blood. His gut seized, doubling him over. He puked. Hard.
The ground tilting around him, he managed to straighten and scrub the back of his hand over his lips.
He’d kept his mouth shut for fifteen years, why the hell did they think he’d do any different now?
One mistake in fifteen years. If his family, including Elizabeth, hadn’t cut him off financially, he wouldn’t have had to take such a drastic measure.
A mistake, that’s all it was. He’d fixed it the only way he could. Even that part had been an accident … a mistake.
He’d done exactly what he had to do. Things just hadn’t gone as planned.
It should have worked.
Whatever. He opened his cell to make the call. Unlike his sister, he didn’t give one damn how this all turned out.
Dane just needed to stop the pain … and the memories.