Page 31 of Worshiping Faith

Fredricks. Of course. The nasty drunk guard. Figures.

“No, Jinx,” I say evenly. “Fredricks is already in a world of shit. He’s not busting up anyone.”

Jinx still looks skeptical, rubbing his knuckles against his thighs in short, jerky movements.

“Is there anything else we need to know?” I ask. “Does Fredricks have anyone else dealing for him?”

Jinx hesitates. Then his eyes dart down, away from mine.

Guilt.

“Jinx.” I soften my voice, keeping my expression calm, non-threatening. “You’ve already told us the worst part. Just finish it.”

His jaw works, his lips pressing together so hard they nearly disappear. Then, barely above a whisper, “Quin-Quince,” he mutters.

I exhale.

Another guard.

Of course.

“Fucking Quince,” Dax says.

I hear the underlying should have killed him long ago.

“Are there more?” I ask.

“I don’t know,” Jinx says. He looks at Dax. “I promise I don’t know any more. Quince and Fredricks got the shit.”

I turn to Dax. “We can find out more from Fredricks and Quince. Jinx isn’t the bad guy here.”

Jinx moves behind me. “Yeah, I’m not a bad guy. You know me, Dax. I’m solid. Got your back.”

The door slams open.

Zachs steps in and shoves Fredricks forward.

Fredricks doesn’t even try to catch himself. He hits the floor hard, a wet, broken-sounding thud.

I barely recognize him.

His face is a mess of blood and swelling, split open in places that shouldn’t be possible while still being alive. One eye swollen shut, the other barely open, glassy with pain.

He tries to push up. Fails.

Zachs kicks him, then locks the door behind him, his gaze immediately finding me.

Then Dax.

Then Jinx.

His brows pinch together, like he’s just now noticing the tweaker in the corner.

“You saving him for me?” he asks, nodding at Jinx.

Dax barely spares him a glance.

“Faith wastalkingto him,” Dax answers without looking up. “Turns out Fredricks is more than a drunk,” he adds.