Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 121728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
He had to guess that Sadie’s choice of drug was meth. Unfortunately, the Demons had plenty of it, along with a source and the opportunity to get plenty more.
But he knew for a fact, the Demons weren’t giving their ice away for free. A price was paid, either in cash or by barter. And if Sadie recently escaped rehab, she most likely didn’t have the first type of payment.
“If anyone is aware of where I’m standing, it’s me. Believe me, I wish I wasn’t here, but it was the only lead I had to find her. Sadie called a friend and mentioned she’d been hanging around this club because they were supplying her with drugs. That friend called me because she had been the first person I called after hearing Sadie left rehab.”
“Was she askin’ that friend for money?”
Her eyes widened. “Yes.”
Fuck. “Did she get it?”
The woman shook her head. “No.”
“If— When you find her, you takin’ her back?”
“To rehab?” She inhaled deeply and stared off into the dark for a few heartbeats. “What other choice do I have?”
He might sound like a cold, heartless bastard by saying this, but… “Could just let her go.”
Sometimes addiction was a losing battle and a time came where it was necessary to wave the white flag. Not everyone could be helped, despite how hard their friends and loved ones tried.
“Then I’ll lose her.”
“Gonna come a point when you gotta stop fightin’. If she ain’t ready to face reality and help herself, anythin’ you do or try’s gonna fail. Might not wanna hear it but some addicts ain’t ever gonna change. Don’t matter how much you want them to. Unless she wants to, shit’s gonna stay the same.” Until…
“Then she’ll die.”
He tipped his head.
Right. The addiction won’t end until her life does.
He understood that only too well.
“I can’t,” she whispered with her fingers pressed to her lips.
He understood that all too well, too.
For fuck’s sake. He had to remember who he was right now. Not Owen Decker. Not even Jake Owens.
He was Hatchet. A DDMC prospect.
That was who he was. That was who he had to be.
Despite her sniffling and rubbing her eyes.
Despite him understanding her pain and desperation.
Despite him having been in her shoes in the past.
“Go home,” he urged softly. “She ain’t here. Woulda told you if she was.”
“You have her picture and with that, my number. Please… If you see her, please, please call me immediately. No matter where she is, I’ll drop everything and come get her.”
He pressed his lips together and nodded.
However, he couldn’t make that promise. He also couldn’t tell her why.
He opened the driver’s door and waited for her to climb into her Accord. Even in the dark, her reluctance was palpable. But after a few moments of hesitation, she finally got in and started her car.
She whispered, “Thank you for trying,” right before he closed the door.
When she put the vehicle in gear and backed out of the spot, he realized he never did get her name.
Fortunately, he had other methods to find out everything about her.
Pulling out his cell phone, he quickly snapped a photo of her license plate as the Honda pulled away.
Then he turned and faced the farmhouse.
He currently wore a Demons prospect cut because of people just like his sister Amelia.
He was about to head back into the Viper’s Den because of people like Sadie, too.
No family was safe from being destroyed by addiction.
And if anyone thought otherwise, they were foolishly mistaken.
Chapter Six
She lived in one of those roach motels that rented rooms monthly or by the week. Her room, an efficiency at best, was on the second floor. And because the doors to those rooms faced the parking lot and the day was unseasonably cold as fuck, he was freezing his damn balls off as he knocked.
If she was inside—and he assumed she was, since her white Accord was parked in the lot—it shouldn’t take long for her to answer.
He’d found out everything he needed to know about her from running her Honda’s plate through the DMV and then running that basic info through the rest of the law enforcement databases.
Sloane Parrish had no criminal history. Unlike her sister Sadie.
But then, drug addicts would do whatever they had to do to get high. Grand and petty larceny, solicitation, breaking and entering, trespassing… The list of potential crimes was endless. And from scanning Sadie Parrish’s rap sheet, the woman had done everything she could to feed her addiction for the past few years.
If she ended up anything like his own sister, that path would continue in a downward spiral. The final destination might end up being just that. Final.
“What are you doing here?” came muffled through the door. “How do you know where I live?”
He’d thought about covering the peephole but that would make her trust him even less. “I can answer all those questions and more if you let me in.”