Red walked over and put a hand on Roni’s back. “Can I get you anything, sweetheart?”

Roni shook her head. “I just don’t believe it, Red. The battle going on in his head must be vicious. One side fighting to stay clean, the other giving in to the lure of drugs.” The words fell out so fast, she couldn’t stop her voice from escalating. “And where’s his truck? I heard two officers asking for him at the registration desk. Did he commit a crime? Was he carjacked? Did he even see Simone? Was she using again? Nobody will tell me anything!”

“Oh, baby girl.” Red put her arms around her, stroking her back as she cried on her shoulder. “All I know right now is that he never made it to the shelter, and they found his truck still running in the middle of the road in Parkvale.”

“I don’t understand any of this. I’d know if Quincy was in a bad place, even if he didn’t tell me. I’d sense it. I know I would.” Roni wiped her eyes as Truman came out through double doors, his shoulders rounded in his flannel shirt, his face a mask of pain. “Truman!” She ran to him. “How is he? What’s happening? Can I see him?”

“He’s good. He wants to see you. I’ll take you back.” He looked over her shoulder at Bullet and Diesel, and some sort of silent message passed between them that included a single nod and made the men stand taller, their hands fisting.

As Truman walked her through the emergency room, she said, “What was that? What were you saying to them?”

“It’s best if Quincy tells you.”

He opened the curtain, and she saw Quincy sitting on the edge of the hospital bed wringing his hands, a bruise and scratches streaking the side of his face. He lifted his grief-laden eyes, and tears flooded hers as she ran to him and threw her arms around him, sobbing.

“I’m sorry,” Quincy said, holding her tight. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

She held him tighter, unable to speak through her sobs, anger, sadness, and confusion. She needed this—to be in his arms, to see that he was alive. His scruff scratched her cheek as he kissed it, and the familiar feel drove her heartache deeper. She clung to him until she got a handle on her sobs, at least mostly. She pushed free from his grip, holding his arms, but the tears in his eyes slayed her.

“You almost died.”

His jaw clenched. “I’m sorry, beautiful. I promise, I did not use those drugs.”

“I want to believe that, and I don’t believe you would, but I’ve read all about denial, so don’t play me for a fool.” Tears spilled from her eyes. “That hurts too much.”

“I’m not. Simone’s ex, Puck, injected me with them.”

The air rushed from her lungs, tears flooding her eyes again.

“It’s true, baby. He tried to kill me in order to send a message to the club.”