Page 41 of Overdose

And me? I let him.

Worse—Iwantedhim to.

Jesus, Blair. You’re supposed to be grieving. Investigating. Healing. Not fucking DJs and riding a dealer’s face like it’s your new favorite hobby.

I reach up and tug the hood lower over my face like that might hide the fact I just came harder than I ever have in my entire goddamn life.

I’m so fucked.

And not even in the way Ireallywanted to be.

Eight

Noir

Bass shakesthe bones of the warehouse. It pounds through the floor, pulses through my fingers, hums beneath my skin like something alive and breathing. The crowd below is a sea of bodies—grinding, sweating, drowning in the rhythm I control from up here.

But I don’t give a fuck about any of them.

Tonight, I’m not here for the music.

I’m here for her.

I followed Dagger to that motel because I wanted to see for myself how his little street investigation was going. Wanted to watch him squirm. Watch the fear creep in behind his cocky smirk when it finally hit him that someone out there was playing his game—better.

Someone gutting his empire from the inside.

I expected panic. Chaos. A crack in that smug armor.

What I didn’t expect… was her.

Blair.

She strolled up to the vending machine in cheap black flip-flops, a tight black crop tank clinging to her chest, and a pair of shorts rolled at the waist just enough to give a perfect little peek of that tight ass. Hair messy. Eyes sharp. She looked like sindraped in indifference, like the time she vanished hadn’t left a single mark.

And Dagger—fuckingDagger—was already there. Leaning like he owned the concrete, shooting that fake charm like it actually meant something. I watched him look at her like she was already his.

She rolled her eyes. Laughed at something he said.

Then turned toward the stairs and let him follow.

The second they vanished, I moved too. Quiet. Controlled.

I told myself I was just watching.

But when that motel door shut and I crept close enough to hear her moaning through the paper-thin wall?

Everything in me snapped.

That sound—her soft little cries, the way she begged—it seared through my skull like a blade dipped in acid. I couldseeit. His hands on her. His mouth. Her thighs trembling from the attention I should’ve been the one giving.

I almost killed someone again right there. Just for breathing near me.

If Dagger hadn’t sent his crew off before tailing her upstairs, I would’ve dragged one of them into the alley and spilled every drop of blood just to quiet the noise in my head.

But I couldn’t lose it. Not yet.

There’s still shit to do.