Page 30 of Worshiping Faith

Jinx doesn’t move.

His fingers twitch at his sides, his eyes jumping between me and Dax, like he’s calculating the odds of survival.

“There’s some bad shit on this island,” I start, keeping my tone gentle but firm. “It can make you really sick. It’s important I know what you took so I can help you, and who gave it to you so they don’t make anyone else sick.”

Jinx licks his lips, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

“You’re not in trouble.” I keep my hands loose at my sides, making sure I don’t look confrontational. “We all need a buzz to get through this shit, right?”

His mouth twitches, like he wants to agree but doesn’t trust it.

“I ain’t no snitch, lady,” he mutters. Then, after a half-second pause, his eyes flick to Dax, and he corrects, “Faith. Madam.”

I swallow. Either he tells me, or Dax handles this his way. And Jinx knows it.

“Let’s just start with what it was, okay?” I say, adjusting my approach. “No names yet.”

His nostrils flare as he exhales. His gaze darts to the floor, then the ceiling, then back to me. His fingers rub together, constant motion, like if he stops moving, he’ll come apart at the seams.

“It was just a little…” He hesitates, rolling his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Crank?” I guess.

His head bobs too fast, like a glitchy nod. “Yeah, yeah, just a little crank. Ain’t got no more.”

Meth.

I bite the inside of my cheek. Meth isn’t just a buzz, it’s a problem.

“Did you find it?” I press.

Jinx’s shoulders hitch, his gaze flashing to Dax again. “I don’t, I don’t go in the other buildings,” he stammers.

“Good,” I say. “So someone gave it to you?”

He nods.

His hands don’t stop moving, his breath coming shallow and uneven, like he’s debating whether he’s about to pass out or bolt.

“I’m gonna need to know who,” I say.

Behind me, Dax shifts his weight, and I feel the energy in the room tighten.

Restless. Impatient. The kind of silent fury that makes men confess before the first punch lands.

Jinx knows it too. His throat bobs in a hard swallow, his eyes bouncing between me and Dax like a pinball.

I laugh lightly, keeping the tension out of my voice, even as it coils tight in my gut. “Listen,” I say, tilting my head. “Dax is pretty hard to temper. I’d really like to do this my way and not his.”

Jinx nods rapidly, his whole body wired too tight.

“You’re gonna tell us either way,” I continue, keeping my voice gentle but steady. “You tell me, and you can head out to the yard on your own.” I pause, letting that sink in. “If we have to let Dax ask the next question…” I shake my head, sighing. “I might have to help you out of here.”

Jinx caves instantly. “Fredricks,” he blurts, too fast, like he’s been holding it in and it just exploded out of his mouth.

I blink. For a second, I don’t even realize he gave a name.

“He’ll bust me up,” Jinx adds, shoulders hunching, like Fredricks might materialize and beat his ass right here.