"You’re still high, aren’t you?" Rex murmured softly, leaning closer to me, peering at my eyes.
I shoved him back, not even that hard, but Rex went flying off the breakfast stool.
Christ.
My mouth worked as I tried to figure out how I’d done that. Rex wasn’t exactly fucking small.
I stared down at my hands like they’d transformed into the Hulk’s fists as silence fell in the kitchen which, thankfully, housed only my brothers. Either way, I was screwed.
Nyx rumbled, "See what I fucking mean? Don’t know what the hell he’s taken but Marvel must have been doctoring it. Fucker’s turning into Peter Parker."
Pretty goddamn poetic that I’d just likened myself to the Hulk.
"Parker’s DC Comics—"
"Shut the fuck up, Link. Spider-Man’s goddamn Marvel," Steel spat.
"Whichever the hell it is," Nyx argued. "We gotta do something about him."
Rex ambled to his feet, brushing down his cut, studying me like I hadn’t just shoved him off his chair. That was when my heart started pounding, sending adrenaline chugging through my system.
I didn’t know what Rex was thinking, but I didn’t like that look in his eyes.
I jumped to my feet, just as Rex ground out, "Get him."
Like they were all on a goddamn leash, and even though Link and Steel were still bickering about comic books, they surged on me.
Fuck, it was like being taken down by a goddamn bomb as four guys, each over two hundred pounds, barreled into me.
After a childhood of my mother’s boyfriends trying to use me as a punching bag, I was used to scrapping dirty. Though they tried to take me down, I fought hard and fast, even as the sluggish crawl of need slinked through my veins, sped up, I thought, by the unexpected surge of adrenaline.
As I kicked them aside, using tricks that Bear had taught me, blood spurted and bones crunched—some of my own included—I almost made it out of there, which was when Rex called out, "Stand down."
"Fuck," Link panted, rubbing his side where I’d punched him.
Steel shoved a hand to his nose that was bleeding freely. "Motherfucker’s fast."
"See?" Nyx ground out, breathing hard from his bent over position as he caught some air.
"I see it," Rex muttered.
I backed away from them all, muttering, "Just leave me the hell alone—"
A gasp escaped me as the sudden gnawing hunger overwhelmed everything else, buckling my bones, making me topple over so I had to prop myself up on my knees.
The pain of their hits, the concern about their conversation—nothing mattered.
I didn’t give a shit about anything other than the call in my body.
I needed more meth.
Fuck, I’d die without it.
"That’s the beauty of withdrawals," Rex murmured grimly. "They’ll do the work for you."
"Guess I got confirmation he is on something, huh?" Nyx grumbled as he finally straightened up, his breath in order.
I ran out of the room, surprised when they didn’t stop me. I heard Link reply, "See why you said he was like a fucking storm, Nyx. Jesus Christ. Feel like I just got swept up by a goddamn tornado."
Steel grated out, his voice nasal as he stemmed the blood flow, "The fuck is he on?"
"Meth, probably."
I tuned out after Rex spoke, hurrying down the hall. As expected, Prince was in his bedroom, banging Popsicle, and I demanded, "You got some more of that meth from last night?"
He grinned at me. "Good shit, right? Never tasted Hot Ice like it."
The best.
But I wasn’t about to tell him that.
He’d charge me double.
"I got work in a couple hours. I need something to take the edge off."
His eyes narrowed at me as he stopped thrusting. "Tell you what, Lightning. I’ll hit you up if you give me fifteen percent of your cut."
I blinked at him, nostrils flaring as the need for the sweet relief hit me.
At that moment, I realized I’d have offered him my fucking kidney if he’d asked for it.
"Yeah. Deal."
He pointed at the chair where his cut lay. "Got a baggy in my jeans. Grab it then get the fuck outta here."
I got the shit, hurrying out without a backward’s glance. I heard Prince’s chuckle as I scurried out like a fucking rat with cheese in its paws, but I didn’t think anything of it. Wasn’t thinking of anything but getting this nectar into my veins.
I never imagined that my fighting under the influence would gain me a rep that would tear away my short-lived road name and would replace it with one that Nyx had come up with.
Storm.
My temper. My fists. My rage.
Thirteen
Storm
PRESENT
When I woke up on the couch, it was because a bony elbow somehow dug its way into my stomach and a knee nearly castrated me.
Surprise and pain had me yelping, then when Cyan squeaked and almost tumbled off the cushions, I reached out and grabbed her and stopped her from falling.
"Cy?" I rasped dopily. "What are you doing here?"
"I couldn’t sleep, Daddy."
How could I chastise her when it had taken me six hours to finally drift off? This was why I needed pot. And the kid in my arms, the woman sleeping down the hall, were the reasons that was no longer an option open to me.
Pot to mellow down, meth to wake up.
Rather than say another word, I got to my feet and held out my hand. Mutely, she took it, her shoulders slumped as I walked us down to her bedroom.
Hers was the only room that was truly decorated. The same color as her eyes, the walls were a rich jewel-like green, and she had bookcases loaded down with stuff she’d been collecting since she was a kid. Her bed had a canopy and, thank God, was a double.
When I let go of her hand and rounded the other side, I told her, "Climb in."
"But I don’t want to," she said, tone teary.
"Cyan," I rumbled, "get in."
She huffed a little but did as asked, then I hauled the bright blue comforter over her, grabbed the furry blanket that sat at the foot of her bed, and plunked my ass down on top of the covers.
Quiet a second, I laid back, then she heaved a sigh. "That’s better."
A smile curved my lips at the innocent reply, and I closed my eyes, letting her lift my arm so she could burrow into my side. She curled up into such a small ball that her toes dug into my thigh.
Why did kids have such bony toes?
As her tension ebbed, I thought she was close to sleeping, and I allowed the chase and hunt of my thoughts to start up again as I tried to process the many things that had happened today.
Just as I thought she was falling asleep, she whispered, "Daddy?"
I hummed.
"I love you."
It wasn’t like she never told me that, but after the evening I’d had, fuck, those words hit me hard.
If my voice was a little choked when I replied, "I love you too, ladybug," then so be it.
With us huddled together, we fell asleep, but as usual, even without my kid somehow managing to kick me in all the soft places on my body, I woke up when it was still dark.