Page 30 of Dirty Beasts: Chance

“Yeah, well, you and I also know that even if you know the demons follow you, we also can’t help trying to run and hide anyway.”

A sigh through pursed lips. “That’s the truth.”

“She showed him another way. Face it, deal with it, and let it go. Forgive yourself and choose to be better.”

“Wish it was that easy.”

“Simple, yes. Easy, no.”

She quirks her eyebrow, full of sarcasm. “And let me guess, she showed him the sweetness he needed to face his demons and overcome them, and now the beauty and the beast live happily ever after, the end.”

I snort. “Pretty much.”

“Nice for them. Really. But not everyone gets that ending.”

“You’re not even interested in trying for it?”

She frowns at me. “You’re offering?”

“Would you accept, if I was?”

“You can’t offer that to me.” She shakes her head. “You’re deluding yourself if you think you can.”

“I could try. I can’t guarantee anything. But I could sure as fuck try.” I slip my hand down the denim until I touch skin—smooth, warm, soft. “And I would promise to do my best to give it to you. Everyone deserves a shot at happy, mama.”

“Not me,” she whispers.

“Why not?” I cup her thigh, the back of it, just above the crease of her knee. “You murder a nun or something?”

A snort of laughter rips from her. “God, Chance. No. I just…don’t.”

“Because you got hooked on some of the most addictive, destructive shit on the planet?”

“Partially.”

“That doesn’t mean you don’t deserve good, Annika,” I say. “You got clean. You’re still clean. You’re gonna stay clean.” I squeeze. “Youfoughtfor it, mama. And now you’re clean, you’re alive, and you’re on your way to good. Why can’t I be part of that path?”

“Why would you want to be?” she whispers. “You barely know me. Just met me.”

“Maybe something in my soul recognizes something in yours.”

“I did bad shit when I was tweaking, Chance. I did bad shit to get another hit. I’ve done bad shit so I don’t have to pay Alvin back on my knees.” She swallows hard. “Ireallydon’t wanna have to pay Alvin back on my knees, Chance.”

“You won’t, Annika.”

“You don’t know that.” Her eyes drop, lids sliding closed.

I cup her jaw. “Look at me.”

She shakes her head. “No.”

“Annika, look at me.” She shakes her head, eyes closed tight; I lift her chin, rub my thumb over her lips. “Look at me, mama. Please.”

Her eyes open, not wet exactly, but sort of shimmery, fighting it and losing. “What, Chance? You’re gonna save me? You’re gonna break your vow and kill Alvin for me? Because that’s what it will take. Hewantsme. Hewantsme to owe him because he knows eventually I’ll get desperate enough that I’ll have no choice but to pay him that way. He knows it. He fuckingknowsI will, because I fuckinghave!” Her voice cracks, but it’s thin as a razor and sharp as one. “That what you want to know,Chance? That I sucked dick to get a hit? That I was exactly thatfuckingdesperate?”

I allow no reaction on my features. Not shock—which I do not feel—nor disgust, which I do not feel either. Nor pity. Nothing but, I hope, compassion. “I know perfectly goddamn well what that fucking drug will do. Where it’ll take you. What it’ll make you do.”

“No fucking way you know where it took me, Chance. You’re a man. A dealer takes one look at me and assumes if I need a hit, he stands a damn good chance of getting me to blow him for a baggie. Heassumesit.”