Ivy smacks a hand over her mouth, muffling what sounds like a sob. Reggie goes utterly and completely still. Waylon mumbles something I can’t make out, and I’m...I’m fucking livid.

My vision turns red, and it takes everything in me not to storm over there.

“Hey!” the greasy man barks. “Don’t talk to her like—”

I ignore him, putting my back to everyone as I turn over Waylon’s arms. First the one closest to me, then the other. Reggie’s standing up and making his way toward the strung-out assholes.

“You gave him fucking heroin?” he growls in a voice I hardly recognize.

I clamp down on my molars as I inspect the inside of Waylon’s arms. There. The faintest bruise right smack center in the crook of his arm.

My eyes slide shut.

Christ, Way, what were you thinking?

“Will?”

At the sound of Waylon’s groggy voice, I snap my head up and collide with a pair of bloodshot eyes. He seems to be coming out of his stupor, if only momentarily, because he throws a wary look around. He looks confused. Scared. And fuck, if it doesn’t break my heart.

Even if there’s a part of me that wants to kick his ass for being so goddamn stupid. Selfish. But more than anything, I just feel...sad. Beaten down.

He tries to get up, but his limbs don’t seem to want to cooperate. I gently press him back against the wall. “Easy.”

Fuck, does he need a hospital? Was this his first time using? What is the protocol here?

The fact he’s not so much as flinching from my touch, or barking something vicious my way to get me to back off, is unsettling to say the least. I can handle him fighting me. But this...

“Wh-where?”

“Bootleggers,” I tell him quietly.

“We only gave him a little, I swear!” the lady whines from behind me. “He said yes.”

Fucking Christ.

“He’s drunk off his ass!” Reggie shouts angrily. “You could’ve killed him.”

I flinch.

“Will?”

Ivy’s no longer muffling her sobs behind me. “I h-have to—I c-can’t—”

I crane my head over my shoulder. Fuck, she’s on the verge of a panic attack.

My mouth forms a hard line as I sweep my gaze over the scene behind me. Reggie shoves the man into the wall, threatening to call the cops on him.

“Reggie!” I bark out.

Chest heaving, he keeps his hands fisted into the guy’s ratty shirt and cuts me a look over his shoulder.

“It’s not fucking worth it. Let him go.”

His face seems to redden as he tamps down on his anger. He gives a stiff nod and steps away, abruptly letting the guy go, causing him to stumble.

“Fuckin’ pathetic,” he mutters, walking our way. He notices Ivy then and frowns.