The Broken Pieces of Us (The Devil's Dust #2.1)

“You know her?” he questions, nodding toward who I assume is Scarlett. His beady eyes watching me closely, his face smug.

“Yeah, I do,” I respond. I’m almost one hundred percent sure this is Scarlett. I look back down at her and notice how strung out she looks. Her head is hung over the bed, her mouth parted open. She’s toked out of her damn mind. I cannot leave her like this. I can’t walk away from her in such a mess.

“What is she hooked on?” I ask, looking around the nightstand for some kind of sign what she may be addicted to.

“That one? She takes whatever I give her, and gives whatever I ask,” he sneers, his tone arrogant and pissing me off. My head snaps up from looking at Scarlett, glaring at him.

“Not anymore,” I inform harshly. I reach down and place my arm under Scarlett’s neck gently and one under her thin back, lifting her from the stained bed.

As soon as her back leaves the mattress, I feel cold steal press against the back of my neck, sending a shiver through my spine and regret that I let him out of my sight. I know better.

“I don’t think that’s an option, old man. Now put her down,” he demands, pressing a gun to the back of my head. I inhale slowly, laying Scarlett back on the bed.

“Give me your wallet,” he instructs, tapping the gun on the back of my neck. I turn my head slightly gritting my teeth. This cannot be fucking happening. I look back down at Scarlett, that face that reminds me of Babs is killing me. I wasn’t there for Babs, and in return, Babs isn’t here for Scarlett. I can’t walk away. I close my eyes and prepare myself for what I’m about to do.

I reach my hand up, like I’m grabbing my wallet. When I have my hand up just enough, I slam my elbow down on the druggie’s inner arm, making him fire the weapon before dropping it. I look at Scarlett briefly, just to make sure she wasn’t hit by the stray bullet. I turn my gaze back to the druggy, who is looking down at the gun that dropped by my feet, his eyes off me. I stalk forward and grab the back of his head and his wet hair, and bash my forehead into his skull.

Pain swamps through my scalp as the guy stumbles back before falling to his ass. I shake my head, trying to clear the blurry vison from the impact. I walk up to the fucking prick and slam my boot into his gut. He has to be the guy in charge. He let Scarlett do this to herself, feeding her drugs for whatever he desires. He grunts in pain, grabbing his stomach. I pull my gun from my waist and point it at him.

“I am taking her, do you understand me?” I growl, my upper lip curling with irritation, my tone rough and furious. I’ll kill every motherfucking strung out person in this house before I leave without Scarlett.

He nods profusely, his hair that was once slicked back now disheveled. I squint at him, taking in his suddenly frightened face. I am not sure if he is a pimp, drug lord, or what he is, but I don’t trust him. I aim my gun at his shoulder and pull the trigger, slamming a lug right into his flesh. He screams, clawing at his arm where I just shot him.

I turn and head back to the bed, quickly grabbing Scarlett’s limp body, and throwing her over my shoulder. She weighs next to nothing, and that concerns me. I head down the stairs. The three people who were on the couch asleep, now in the middle of an orgy. As soon as I step outside, I’m introduced to crisp clean air. I inhale deeply, trying to get that toxic shit that was in that house out of my lungs. Reaching my car, I place Scarlett in the passenger side, buckle her in, and jump in.

I drive silently, nothing but the sound of the tires on the freeway. I take my eyes off the road and back to Scarlett, her face is so thin and pale, her nose pinker than it should be. Was she like this when Babs was alive? Surely Babs wouldn’t let Scarlett do this to herself. A small strand of dark red hair falls in front of her face. Off instinct, I take my grip from the steering wheel and brush it behind her ear softly.

I pull my hand from her face and place my hand back on the steering wheel, looking at the pavement. I hesitated looking for Scarlett when Doc gave me the information. Thought it would be pointless. After looking at Scarlett and the condition she is in, I might be the only one to save her. Maybe we can save each other.





I pull into the club, get out, unbuckle Scarlett, throw her over my shoulder, and head inside the club.

“Who the fuck is that?” Old Guy asks in a high-pitched voice, pointing at Scarlett.

“This is Babs’ niece,” I reply shortly, heading back to my room.

“What the hell are you doing with her?” Old Guy questions, following me down the hall.

“I dunno. I couldn’t leave her where I found her,” I answer, kicking my door open and placing her half-naked body down on the bed.

“Damn, she looks rough,” Old Guy remarks, surveying Scarlett’s scrawny figure. I scoff and pull a blanket over her body. The thought of him eyeing her angers me.

“We are going to need Doc for sure,” Old Guy informs, shaking his head in dismay.