“I’m not a junkie,” I tell him. “I only took ten of those pills. And only on days I worked. I’ve been tired, and stressed, and…”
The words sound even lamer when I say them out loud. There is no excuse for taking them. My head drops into my hands and I groan. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing anymore honestly. But it’s time to pick myself up and reel it back in.
The car is silent and fraught with tension as we continue to drive. I have no more confessions or accusations to level at him, so I keep my mouth shut.
When we pull up to Lachlan’s house, I have to admit I’m a little surprised. I’ve only ever been here once too, and that was when Ronan had to drop Mack off. Not many people know where Lachlan lives, so the fact that I’m one of them is just another reason for me to be nervous. Another reminder that the likelihood of them letting me go anywhere is not good.
Ronan turns off the car and moves to get out, but I grab his arm and halt him.
He looks at me, but doesn’t say a word.
“Thank you,” I whisper. “For looking out for me.”
His eyes soften, and then he gets out, walking around to open my door for me. He unlocks Lachlan’s front door and gestures me inside. I know he won’t be following, so I give him a little smile and then slip on through, leaving him behind in the cold.
Conor is on the sofa, reading through a magazine, but glances up when I shut the door.
“She’s in the bedroom,” he says.
I nod and walk down the hall to find Mack nestled into Lachlan’s bed, staring up at the ceiling.
“Hey.” I smile at her from the doorway. “Mind if I come in?”
“Hey, Sash.” She gives me a weak smile. “Sure, I could use the company.”
I sit down on the edge of the bed, and Mack leans back against the headboard. She still has a few bruises from her ordeal with Mandy and Donovan, but otherwise she appears healthy. She’s a beautiful girl. Petite and fiery. With dark hair and blue eyes like my own. The defeat weighs heavy in those eyes though. Her friend is gone, and Mack thinks she failed her. I would tell her that isn’t true, but the thing I know about guilt is that nothing anyone else says will alleviate it for you. She’ll have to come to that conclusion on her own.
“How are you holding up?” I ask her.
“Nuh-uh.” She shakes her head. “I don’t want to talk about me. Tell me about you. How’s your mom?”
I glance down at the bedspread, and Mack sighs. “I’m sorry, Sash. Things seem to suck for everyone right now.”
I nod in silent agreement.
“Well,” Mack says. “On the bright side, I guess you’ll never have to worry about Donny bothering you again.”
I swallow the lump in my throat at the image of Ronan in that room with him. I knew what he did in that basement. Blaine used to tell me that he was missing a few screws. That he was all sorts of fucked up in the head and that he liked to kill people. I didn’t want to believe it. I still don’t. But that’s what being a part of this life entails. Following the orders that come down the food chain. It doesn’t matter why or how. When the boss wants someone dead, they’re dead.
I can’t feel sorry for the loss of Donovan. He could have screwed me and Ronan both with the information he held over us. And if he was actually loyal to the syndicate, he would have. But instead, he chose to exploit my loyalty. He knew somehow that I would protect Ronan. That I wouldn’t let Donny give him up and make him pay the price for his actions. Because Ronan killed Blaine for me. And Donovan being the opportunist that he was, chose to abuse that from every possible angle. Holding it over me and threatening me constantly to get what he wanted.
But I never gave him my body. My mouth and my hand, but never my body. I think that’s the thing that pissed him off the most. In any case, I won’t miss seeing his face lurking around the club and waiting for his moments to strike.
“I’m glad he’s gone,” I tell Mack.
“Lach said that Ronan really made him suffer for what he did to you.”
I blink up at her, and a million questions drift through my mind. But I can’t voice any of them out loud. Thinking about Ronan’s motives only gives me a splitting headache and an aching chest. Instead, I choose this moment to seize an opportunity of my own selfish desires.
“Mack, I know things aren’t very good for you right now,” I begin. “And I know you’ve done a lot for me already…”
“What is it Sash?” she asks. “Tell me. I’m feeling about as useless as a sack of potatoes right now, so if there’s something I can do to help…”
“Well…” I hesitate. “It’s just that you have some obvious sway with Lachlan. And I was thinking maybe you could run something by him.”
“Like what?”
I look up at her and clear my throat. I’m nervous as hell, and I feel like a coward for asking this of her. But I worry that if I go to him directly he will just turn me down straight out of the gate.