BLOOD AND BONE | rewritten

47

Rainey perched a hand on her hip as she rapped on the strongman's door. "Shires." No answer. "Don't make me wait," she snapped. But he said nothing to that either. Had he really been looking for her or was this Jaxon's idea to make a fool out of her?

Huffing loud enough to punctuate her point, she said, "I don't care if you're naked. I'm coming in."

Surprisingly, the door was unlocked. Rainey threw it open to make a grand entrance, but all her thoughts flew out the window when she took in what was inside.

Holy shit.

Shires' quarters were in complete disarray. Sheets of paper were left balled under the desk. His blanket was half dragged off the bed and bundled on the floor beside his discarded uniform jacket. The curtains had been closed so violently several rings were torn off the rod.

Rainey might have guessed he'd put up a fight while being kidnapped from this room if not for the fact he was still there. Her breath actually caught in her throat when she finally focused on him. He'd always struck her as quiet and withdrawn, albeit easy on the eyes. But god, he looked terrible now. Half-dead, even.

"Damn Shires, I never pegged you as someone who'd enjoy a wild night, but I see I was pleasantly mistaken." She looked to his desk, which was devoid of knickknacks. Well, aside for a straw she knew people used for inhaling drugs.

At the sound of her voice, he looked up with bloodshot eyes, his pupils blown too wide in the light. From where she stood in the threshold, Rainey could see the beads of sweat on his skin. His movements, on the rare occasion he made them, were stiff and strange, as if it was not really him who inhabited his body. He really was drugged out of his mind, wasn't he?

Shires' eyes were wide enough for Rainey to see more white than brown as he glanced to either side. As if trapped in there with an invisible enemy. "Close the door," he demanded through a shudder, his raspy voice worse than ever. "Close it. Now."

Rainey had never heard him assertive before. Raising a brow at how out of character he was acting, she kicked the door closed with an ankle. Now she was on the wrong side.

For the first time in as long as she could remember, there were no words waiting on the tip of Rainey's tongue. The sight of someone as stoic as Shires reduced to a huddled, shivering mess on the ground left her with nothing. What was she even meant to do? As many terrible decisions as she had made in the name of fun, drugs were never one of them. Cigarettes were as close as she ever got to addiction, and even then, all it took to make her stop was the realization that smoker breath wasn't attractive.

As she watched Shires wipe his profusely running nose with the back of a hand, she suspected this was not so simple.

With slow strides, she went to the desk. "Necro, huh? At least you do big-boy drugs."