Bodies and lights blurred around him, making Neil nauseous. He clawed bloody lines down Nicky's arm as he fought to get free. Nicky didn't let go until they'd reached the middle of the dance floor. He pulled Neil up against him and caught Neil's chin in his fingers to force his head back.

Nicky's kiss was harder than Neil expected it to be, and there was more than just tongue in it. Beneath the burn of vodka Nicky shared with him was the sweet tang of cracker dust. Neil didn't mean to swallow, but it hurt too much to hold it in his mouth.

"This is how the game goes," Nicky said against his lips. "Stop fighting if you want to survive."

"Fuck you," Neil snarled.

"Good luck, Neil."

Nicky let go and vanished into the throng of dancers too fast for Neil to follow. The sudden loss of support made him fall. He couldn't feel his legs. It took serious work to get into a crouch, and a couple strangers had to help him up from there. Neil used the momentum to stumble away, but he didn't know which way he was supposed to be going. He couldn't see the exit through all these people, especially with the lights flashing all around him.

A hand came up against the small of his back and shoved. The push got him free of the crowd and sent him crashing into the back wall. Andrew propped his shoulder against the dark paint just out of arm's reach. Neil wanted to rip his throat open, but it was taking everything he had to just stay standing. He settled for channeling his hatred into a fierce look.

"Such ingratitude," Andrew said. "Those drinks were expensive."

"I hate you."

"Take a number and get in line with the rest of this team. I won't lose any sleep over it."

"Don't sleep. I'll kill you."

"Will you?" Andrew asked. "Will you do it yourself, or will you pay someone else to handle the mess? You certainly have enough money to outsource it to a proper hit man. One wonders what a no-one like you is doing with such a fortune."

"I found it on the sidewalk."

"Really," Andrew drawled. "Is that why you won't spend it, or do you just like looking like a homeless person? The team is split, you know. Most of them think you're trailer trash like Dan. Renee knows better. So do I. I think you're something a little more like us." Andrew leaned toward him and enunciated every syllable. "Runaway."

If Neil was sober, he'd be better steeled to hear that word. With cracker dust in his system and angry music drumming his skin to bits, he couldn't hide his flinch. "Mind your own business."

"Tonight is Mind Neil's Business Night," Andrew said. "Didn't you notice? Give me something real or I won't let you stay here."

"This isn't your team. It isn't your say."