"I need to get out of here," I say finally, each word carefully controlled. "Give me your keys."

Jay's eyes narrow. "Where are you going?"

"Doesn't matter."

"It does to me."

"Just give me the fucking keys!” My voice splinters, revealing the desperation beneath.

He studies me for a long moment, and I see the exact second he realizes he can't save me from myself. Not tonight. With a heavy sigh that carries the weight of every time he's watched me self-destruct, he pulls out his keys.

"Nate, please," he says softly, holding them just out of reach. "Don't do anything stupid. She needs you."

I snatch the keys, unable to meet his eyes because we both know where I'm heading.

What I'm about to do.

The demons I'm about to welcome back with open arms.

The drive is a fever dream. My knuckles are white against the steering wheel as memories assault me:

The bar.

Scott's smirk.

Like father, like son.

The accident.

Fire blazing.

Glass shattering.

Nora's blood painting the asphalt.

Her eyes fluttering close as I begged her to stay.

The Bait Shop's neon sign cuts through the darkness like a beacon to the damned. The familiar purple glow bathes the street, promising relief in all the wrong places. My feet move on autopilot, carrying me down the path I swore I'd never walk again. He's waiting on that threadbare couch, cigarette smoke curling around him like a snake's welcome. Monty's always waiting. Like a spider that knows the fly will eventually tire of fighting the web.

"Well, well," he drawls, lips curling into that knowing smirk. "The prodigal son returns. What brings you to my humble abode this late at night, Preppy?"

The words stick in my throat like glass. Everything in me screams to turn around, to run, to be better than this.

But I'm so fucking tired of trying to be better.

"I need something."

Monty leans forward, eyes glinting like a predator scenting blood. "Rough night, huh?"

"I need to make it all stop." The confession tastes like surrender.

His grin widens, shark-like in the neon glow. "I thought you were out?"

"I'll give you whatever you want. You want money, fine. You want dirt on Scott Sullivan, whatever. I just need to make it fucking stop."

It's music to Monty's ears, I can see it in his eyes.

"Tell me, kid, how high do you want to fly?"

I hesitate, one last thread of resistance pulling taut. Then Nora's broken body flashes behind my eyes, and the thread snaps.

"As high as I can go," I whisper, each word a nail in my own coffin.

Monty nods, disappearing into the back room. The door creaks like Hell's gates opening, waiting for me to follow. I close my eyes and step through, letting the darkness swallow me whole. Some demons you can't outrun forever.

Sometimes you just have to lie down and let them take you home.

74. Blur

CHAPTER 74

BLUR

NORA