Page 109 of Relapse

“Every second we stand here listening to this bullshit,” he says coldly, “Blair’s a sitting duck in that apartment.”

Smoke curls slowly from Noir’s pistol while Mikey hangs limp in the restraints with half his face missing.

Dead.

Just like that.

Even Reaper looks slightly thrown off.

I stand there staring at Mikey’s body for a second too long before my eyes cut back to Noir.

“What the fuck was that?”

Noir calmly tucks the pistol back into his waistband like he didn’t just splatter the only person in the room who was starting to sound believable.

“He was wasting time.”

“He could’ve been telling the truth.”

“Oh fuck that. The proof is right fucking there on his phone.”

“Proof that suddenly showed up after he said his phone was missing all day.”

Noir’s jaw tightens slightly, but his voice stays cold.

“And while we stand here debating whether the junkie dealer was actually being honest for the first time in his pathetic life, Blair’s sitting in your apartment with Dante’s men knowing exactly where she is.”

That lands hard and fucking ugly. Because as much as I hate the guy, he’s right.

Even if Mikey was telling the truth, the messages exist. Dante knows where Blair is. Somebody put all of it there, and whoever did it knows too fucking much.

Noir steps closer, eyes hard on mine.

“If Dante knows where she is, we don’t have time to play fucking detective.”

Something twists low in my stomach, because I don’t fucking know what the fuck to believe anymore.

Before I can answer, my phone suddenly vibrates violently in my pocket and I pull it out.

Everybody’s attention snaps toward me instantly.

Mina.

I answer immediately.

“What?”

Bass screams through the speaker loud enough to distort her voice completely. Then panic hits through the line hard enough my pulse spikes instantly.

“Dagger—”

Gunshots crack somewhere through the phone.

People screaming.

Mina crying.

Everything inside me locks instantly.