After we order drinks, something in my shoulders finally unclenches.
“So, last night,” Finnick starts, leaning forward on his elbows. “This drunk fuck tried to steal my bass when Kam and I were coming back into the hotel.”
“No shit,” Micah laughs. “Did Kam beat his ass or what?”
Kami nearly chokes on her strawberry margarita. “No, no, but it was funny because the guy literally tried taking itfromhim. So Finn yanked back hard enough that he stumbled, tripped, and fell sideways into the fucking fountain in front of the hotel.” She reenacts the whole thing, flailing her arms like she’s drowning, and Micah laughs so hard he wheezes. And I laugh, too. A real, full one. I miss belly laughs. I don’t get them too often anymore.
Kami beams. “See?There’s my guy. I knew you were still alive in there somewhere.”
“Debatable,” I say.
We’re still laughing when my phone vibrates in my pocket. One glance at the screen turns everything to ice. I refrain from groaning. “I need to take this,” I say quietly, pushing up before anyone can ask.
Micah watches me go with knowing eyes. I step out onto the open terrace, the city roaring below.
“Yeah?” I answer.
Nolan doesn’t waste breath. “Old mill on Tenth. Back entrance. Midnight. In and out. No witnesses. No need for a statement.”
I press a hand to my forehead, shutting my eyes. “Fine.”
“Good boy,” Nolan purrs. “Don’t fuck up.”
The line clicks dead.
I let the phone drop to my side. For a long second, I just breathe—slow, shaky—swallowing down the panic that rises with every task. I don’t know why everything feels this hard. Maybe it’s because I could die at any moment.
Shouldn’t I welcome that, then?
I’ve tried killing myself more times than I can count, but none of these fuckers will let me die. Overdoses, mostly—Adriana, Micah, Kami dragging me back when my body tried to quit before my mind was ready.
The worst one, though, was the night I broke my vow and texted Emma. I was high and hollow and bleeding, and the message slipped out before I could stop it. I blocked her immediately after—didn’t even know if it was still her number. Sometimes I almost laugh imagining that text lighting up the wrong phone.
I fucking hate everything without you. I’m not well.
Micah found me in the bathroom of one of those boring, interchangeable hotels and kept me from bleeding out. Since then, I’ve mostly stopped trying to decide when it’ll happen. I figure it’ll come when it comes. Maybe one day the guy in the sky I don’t even believe in will save me.
When I return to the booth, Micah meets my gaze, and it’s all there:I know. I’m sorry. There’s nothing we can do.
Kami brightens when she spots me. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” The lie slips out easily.Practice makes perfect.
She smiles, and launches into another story. I nod and even manage another laugh when Finnick says something sarcastic, but the weight at my waistband feels heavier with every passing second. Like the gun already knows what I’m going to do tonight.
When I step outside after lunch, the smell of the city punches me in the face. I lean against the wall and pull a cigarette from the pack, glancing out at the street. My hands are steady when I light it. The first drag burns my throat. The second barely registers.
Smoke curls up and fades away in the gentle breeze. A couple walks past at the end of the alley, laughing about something small. I can’t hear what it is, and it doesn’t matter. Whatever it is, it’s enough to make them smile.
I watch them until they turn the corner and vanish. For a second, I wonder what it would be like to care about something like that.
The cigarette burns down faster than I expect. I don’t remember taking half the drags. My fingers are numb by the time I flick it away. I crush it under my shoe, harder than necessary.
Then I straighten up and go where I’m supposed to go.
Coke burns down the back of my throat as I tilt my head, snorting the last thin line off the motel nightstand. My nostrils sting, and my eyes water. I wipe the residue from my nose with the back of my hand and pull my black mask down.
Time to work.