The shit hole of a dressing room stank to high heaven. Sweat and alcohol and desperation clung to the worn-out furniture and filthy carpeting.

I looked up when the haggard waitress peeked her head in the door, her gaze fixed on Pierce.

“Havoc—you got ten minutes!” she boomed, her lip curled into a sneer. “And nobody better pass out tonight. You’re wearing out your welcome.”

“Got it, Cruella.” Pierce snickered as he reached for the blunt. “We’ll be there.”

She flipped him the bird. “And don’t call me Cruella.”

He looked her up and down with glassy eyes. “You’re right, sweetheart. Cruella Deville was kinda hot.”

She slammed the flimsy door, nearly knocking the cheap plywood off its one good hinge.

The bar had seen better days. It was a dive when I played here at sixteen, and if possible, it was worse now. Not that I cared much about my surroundings at the moment. I was too high to notice. But apparently not high enough. I could still see Taryn’s stricken face as she stood in my living room. No amount of drugs could wipe the image from my mind.

Which was ironic, since drugs were the reason I sent her away in the first place.

When she showed up last night and witnessed the scene with my old man, I saw it as a sign. I buried myself in her sweet body, hoping that she’d save me from myself and the cravings. It worked for a minute. But sure as shit, as soon as she slipped out of my arms, I started bargaining.

Just a little something to take the edge off.

After formulating an elaborate scheme to sneak away and feed the beast, the truth hit me. Taryn couldn’t save me. Nobody could. So in a moment of clarity, I lobbed a few verbal grenades, hit all the soft spots. And she left.

Then I took an Oxy, and waited for the void to swallow me. But it didn’t. She was there, like a sliver embedded in my mind.

“Noble.” Pierce jabbed me in the ribs and shoved a small mirror into my hand. “Take a bump. You look like you’re ready to pass out.”

Closing one eye, I looked down at the powder. “Coke?”

“Not unless you’re buying, dude.” He laughed. “That’s Crystal.”

Shrugging, I took the straw. Meth. Coke. It didn’t really matter. The Oxy was kicking my ass. And besides, I was only going to do a line.

The white granules hit the back of my throat, and I winced, tears springing to my eyes.

“Hurts so good, don’t it?” Pierce chortled.

As soon as the euphoria crept over me, all my good intentions fell by the wayside. One line was never going to be enough.

I clutched the mirror when Pierce made a grab for it. “I’m not done.”

I gave him a smile to hide the edge in my voice. My heightened awareness brought with it the notion that four of us were sharing this paltry stash.

I snorted the next line before Pierce got any ideas. “Does your guy deliver? This shit ain’t gonna last.”

He clapped me on the shoulder. “No worries, dude. My guy will get someone to make a run, as long as you got cash.”

Cash I had. It was my common sense that had left the building. My gaze shifted to the door when a familiar voice scratched the inside of my brain.

“Get out of my way, or I’ll put your ass on the ground,” Cameron bellowed, knocking someone aside as he barreled through the door with Logan on his heels. They wore equal looks of disgust as they scanned the room.

“Cameron, dude!” Pierce exclaimed as he jumped to his feet. “Long time, no see.”

My brother tore his heavy gaze from mine for a second to take in my friend. “Pierce,” he muttered.

Frenetic energy crackled between Cameron and me. Even in my fucked-up state, I felt it.

“We got a show,” Pierce said, stepping out of the line of fire. “Y’all stick around. We’ll party when we’re done.”

I thought about responding, but the effort was beyond me. Rooted to the shitty couch, I watched listlessly while Pierce and his crew scurried to gather their stuff.

“You want me to make that call, Chase?” Pierce raised a brow. “The dude does business at that titty bar off Airport Row. I could always go for a lap dance.”

I nodded. “Sounds good.”

“You can come too, little brother,” Pierce said to Cameron as he headed for the exit. “Good drugs and easy women. We’ll make a night of it.”

As soon as the door slammed shut, Cameron grabbed the mirror I didn’t realize I was holding. “What the fuck are you doing?” he seethed. “Are you fucking crazy?”

I grabbed a beer from the table. “You need to run along. This is a private party. By invitation only.”

Cameron laced his hands behind his head and muttered to himself while Logan leaned against the wall, his features schooled into a mask.

I reached for the blunt, and Cameron grabbed my hand. “Don’t make me drag you out of here,” he growled.

It took all of three seconds before I was on my feet, nose-to-nose with my baby brother and his ticking jaw.

“You’d need a forklift to drag me anywhere.” I felt the scowl coat my face, the combination of the speed and adrenaline pushing me over the edge. “Get out of here. I don’t need a chaperone.”

Logan pounced like a cat, his fingers coiling around my bicep. “You’re going to need a fucking doctor if you don’t come with us.”

The madman currently in control of my body caught Logan’s wrist and twisted hard. “We can get a room for two.” I smiled, tightening my grip. “Because you know I ain’t going down alone.”

“Fine by me,” Logan spat. “I got a few minutes to kill, and I’d love to put you on your ass. You’ve been asking for it for days.”

The door burst open, and the owner of the bar stepped in, a Louisville Slugger at his side. The old man hadn’t changed a bit since I was sixteen.

“You having a problem with these guys, Noble?” His brow furrowed as he gave Logan a once over. “Cage,” he grumbled. “You’re not any more welcome in my bar than your old man. I told you that years ago.”

“I’m just here for my friend.” Logan looked down at the bat in the old man’s beefy paw. “And that little toothpick you’re carrying don’t scare me one bit.”

When the rational side of my brain made one final attempt to assert its will, I lifted my hands in surrender.

“We were just leaving.” I patted the old man on the arm as I strode by.

My attempt at a carefree swagger was hard to maintain as I bounced off the walls, the red exit sign at the back of the building growing closer with every stride. I pushed through the door, sweat pouring off my brow as I staggered to my car.

Cameron grabbed the door handle when I slid behind the wheel. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Back to the loft,” I said, my most reassuring smile in place. “You didn’t give me much choice now, did you?”

“Get out,” he ordered. “You can’t drive.”

I shrugged, and Cameron loosened his grip. It was almost too easy, fooling my brother with that lame ploy. I slammed the door and then turned the key.

“Chase!” He beat on the window, his hazel eyes blazing with fury. “Open the fucking door.”

Cameron took futile steps to block my path. But he wasn’t fast enough. Dirt and gravel spit from my tires as I careened toward the entrance, leaving my brother under the street lamp.

I popped the last Oxy into my mouth as Cameron’s silhouette grew smaller in the rearview mirror. The farther I drove, the fainter the shadow became until it disappeared altogether, and there was nothing left but my own eyes, staring back at me in the reflection.

My smile melted as I took stock of what I’d become. I no longer feared the monster inside of me. I embraced him.