Page 44 of Overdose

For a second, she sways into it.

Her breath hitches.

And then she pulls back, spine straightening like she’s been slapped.

“No.” Her voice shakes now, but not with hesitation. With fury. “You don’t get to touch me. Not when all you do is watch. Wait. Show up when I’m fucked up and you decide I’ve had enough.”

I open my mouth then choke on the name that almost slips out.

“Brynn—”

She freezes.

Eyes locked on mine.

I see it—the flicker, the fracture before she looks away. Her face unreadable.

She shakes her head like she didn’t hear it. Like she won’t let herself hear it.

But she did.

We both did.

Her next words are low. Flat.

“Go play your little war somewhere else.”

She turns and storms down the stairs, boots slamming metal with every angry step.

Then, just like that, she’s gone.

Dagger appears at the top of the fire escape like the devil himself just clawed his way up from hell. Boots scuffed, black shirt clinging to his chest, sleeves shoved high to show off the ink coiled down his arms. That smirk—sharp and deliberate—like he’s been watching the whole fucking time.

“Well, shit,” he drawls. “Guess you don’t fuck as good as you think.”

I don’t move. Not yet.

He steps closer, slow, deliberate, voice cool and sharp. “Or maybe it was the part where you fucked her and walked away like she didn’t mean shit. I mean—we both know she doesn’t.”

My fist tightens. “You done?”

“Nah.” He tilts his head, still smirking. “Thought you had it all figured out, didn’t you? Got in there first, left your mark. Must’ve felt good. Until she shoved you off like a dirty fix she didn’t ask for.”

I step toward him, jaw clenched. “You gave her more, didn’t you? After what happened in the bathroom the other night—you still fucking sold to her.”

Dagger just smiles. Doesn’t answer. Doesn’t even blink.

I shove him back a step. “She could fucking die.”

Still nothing.

“You know how fucked up that shit makes her,” I hiss. “If I’ve seen it, Iknowyou have. And you still gave it to her. You still watched her spiral and fucking handed her another hit like it was nothing.”

His smirk grows like I just proved his point.

“You think I don’t know what you’re doing, Noir?” he says finally, voice low, slick with venom. “You think I don’t see you trying to repeat shit? Rewind the tape. Get a second shot?” He leans in, smiling like a wolf. “But Blair’s not her. You can’t change the way it played out by white-knighting her through the same fucking mess.”

He goes still. Just for a beat.