Chapter 10
Chapter ten
Chapter Seven
Noir
I catch Blair before she fully hits the ground.
One second she’s standing in front of me beneath flashing neon lights and falling foam, pupils blown wide while bass shakes violently through the beach hard enough to vibrate up my spine—
The next her knees buckle completely.
“Fuck.”
I grab her around the waist fast, dragging her hard against my chest before she collapses face-first into the foam-covered floor.
Her body folds into mine instantly.
Too limp.
Too fucking limp.
Ice floods my bloodstream so fast it physically hurts.
Not again.
“Blair.” My hand slides up to her jaw, forcing her face upward slightly. “Hey. Look at me.”
Nothing coherent comes back, just a weak little sound while her lashes flutter unevenly against her cheeks.
Shit.
Panic detonates ugly and immediate because for half a second all I see is hospital lights again.
White walls.
Blood on Dagger’s hands.
Her barely breathing while medics shoved us out of the room because there wasn’t a fucking thing either of us could do anymore.
That helpless feeling never actually left. It just buried itself somewhere deeper where I could pretend it wasn’t rotting holes through me.
And despite everything me and Dagger did to drag Blair away from this world—to erase ourselves from her life before it swallowed her too—she keeps throwing herself straight back toward the same destruction like she’s daring us not to lose her next.
Around us, the foam party keeps raging like the apocalypse isn’t currently happening in my fucking arms.
Bodies slam together blindly through clouds of bubbles.
Nobody notices.
Nobody gives a fuck.
A guy crashes into my shoulder while dancing past, spilling vodka all over himself before disappearing back into the crowd laughing.
Another girl screams happily nearby while foam cannons blast again overhead.
Everything around us keeps moving.
Meanwhile my pulse is hammering hard enough to split my ribs apart.
“Blair.”
I shake her slightly this time.
Her head rolls weakly against my shoulder, lips parting softly while her chest still rises against mine in uneven breaths.
Still breathing.
Thank fuck.
Then somebody slams into me hard enough to nearly knock Blair sideways.
“What the fuck is going on?”
A girl stares up at me through smeared blue glitter and panic.
Dark hair and a tiny rave outfit.
Recognition hits instantly.
Mina.
I remember her immediately—Brynne’s friend from Florida. Loud mouth. Always laughing. Always somehow convincing Brynne to make even worse decisions than usual.
Haven’t seen her since before everything fell apart.
Memories suddenly flood back, punching me hard enough to stop me cold for half a second.
Brynne dancing barefoot on kitchen counters while Mina screamed lyrics beside her drunk off tequila and whatever else they could find.
The two of them chain-smoking behind warehouse raves while Dagger bitched about them stealing his cigarettes.
Mina even yelled at me once because I apparently “glared like a serial killer at children.”
I mean, I probably did, but not on purpose.
Judging by the horror spreading across her face right now?
She’snot very happy to see me.
“Noir?” she says slowly.
My jaw tightens immediately.
Fantastic.
“Move.”
“The fuck I will.” Her eyes snap down toward Blair unconscious against my chest before lifting back to me sharply. “Why are you carrying my unconscious new friend around like a fucking kidnapper?”
“Your friend?” I shoot back immediately. “You know Blair?”
“Answer the fucking question, creep!”
“For fuck sakes, I’m not kidnapping her,” I snap, adjusting Blair higher against my chest when her head lolls weakly against my shoulder. “She passed out from whatever the fuck you two were taking.”
The anger flickering across Mina’s face stutters briefly.
Not gone.
Just overtaken by alarm.
“Wait what? Oh shit!”
She reaches toward Blair instinctively, fingers brushing her arm while panic flashes across her expression.
“Relax, she’s breathing,” I say shortly. “She’ll be fine. I just need to get her out of here.”
“Oh hell no.” Mina immediately steps further into my path. “You are not taking her anywhere, mister stranger danger.”
A sharp pulse of irritation shoots through me.
“I’m not a fucking stranger, Mina, and I really don’t have time for this right now.”
Her eyes narrow instantly.
Then her eyes drag slowly over Blair in my arms.
Over the way I’m holding her.
The way my hand stays locked around her waist like I’m scared to let go, and I watch the exact moment she pieces it together.
Not just that I know Blair.
That I care about her.
That this is personal.
Her face goes completely horrified.
“You have got to be kidding me,” she mutters.
Mina looks between me and Blair again, visibly trying to process it.
Then her expression twists into pure disbelief.
“No,” she says slowly. “Nope. No fucking way. Tell me this isn’t what I think it is,”
I already know exactly where this is headed.
“Mina—”
“That’s Brynne’s little sister!”
“No shit.”
“She’s Blair. Brynne’s Blair!”
“Again,” I bite out sharply, “very aware of that. Jesus, Mina, how much shit did the two of you take?”
“Okay, but you’re holding her like she’s...like she’s—.”
Mina stares at me like she’s watching a car crash happen in slow motion.
“Oh my fuck,” she mutters again. “This is so unbelievably fucked up.”
“She started blacking out in the middle of a foam pit right after one of Dante’s guys spotted her,” I bite out sharply. “Can we maybe unpack the psychological damage later?”
Mina blinks at me.
“Dante’s guys? The fuck does that have to do with anything?”
“Not important right now.”
“The fuck do you mean not important—”
“I mean,” I snap, shifting Blair higher against my chest again, “I don’t have time to explain it while standing in the middle of a fucking foam pit, Mina. I need to get her out of here.”
Mina looks deeply unsatisfied with that answer, but before she can keep arguing, another voice cuts sharply through the noise behind us.
“What the fuck happened?”
Dagger.
Mina turns instantly, and the second she sees him storming toward us through the foam-covered crowd, her expression somehow gets even more horrified.
Because now she’s realizing this isn’t just me.
Dagger’s eyes lock immediately onto Blair unconscious against my chest, his entire body going tight.
“What the fuck did she take?”
“Don’t know, but I’m going to take a guess and say some of your shit with whatever else she could find.”
He’s beside us instantly after that, one hand brushing Blair’s cheek while the other grips the back of her neck gently, checking her over with the kind of panic he’s trying very hard not to show.
Possessive. Protective. Way too fucking familiar.
Jealousy twists low and immediate in my chest watching Dagger touch her like that, checking her over with the same panic ripping through me.
Because she went to him first.
She crawled back into his bed first, and I hate how much that still gets under my skin.
But underneath all the rivalry and possessive bullshit sitting between us, there’s also something steadier there too.
Trust.
Ugly. Complicated. Unspoken trust.
Because if it comes down to Blair?
Dagger would burn this entire city to the ground to keep her breathing.
Same as me, and somehow that’s the only thing stopping me from completely losing my fucking mind right now.
Mina notices the same concern on Dagger that I do immediately.
Her eyes snap slowly between both of us.
Then back to Blair before he jaw drops.
“Oh my god,” she says faintly.
Neither of us answer.
Because honestly?
There’s no explanation on earth making this look less insane right now.
Dagger’s jaw flexes while he checks Blair’s pulse again.
Then his eyes cut sharply toward me.
“Where’s Dante’s guy?”
Gone.
We both know it instantly.
Still, I scan the crowd automatically anyway, eyes sweeping over flashing lights and moving bodies while adrenaline claws violently through my bloodstream.
Nothing.
No dark hoodie and no figure watching from the edge of the crowd.
Just chaos.
“Fuck,” Dagger mutters, scanning the crowd again. “He probably already called it in and is sitting back waiting to see what Dante wants done with the information.”
A cold pulse moves through my chest at that.
Because he’s probably right.
Mina points aggressively between both of us immediately.
“No. Absolutely not.” Mina points aggressively between both of us. “Why are you two acting like emotionally damaged mafia henchmen right now?”
“Because we need to leave,” Dagger says sharply.
“Okay well unfortunately I need at least twelve explanations and probably a therapist before we do that.”
“No time.”
Mina stares at him, then looks back down at Blair hanging unconscious between us while both our hands are still on her.
“Okay well we at the very least acknowledge that this is sick,” she mutters.
Dagger looks up immediately. “What?”
“You two?” She gestures wildly at all of us. “Seriously? Her dead sister’s ex-boyfriend and—” she points at Dagger now “—whatever emotionally constipated biker nightmare you are?”
Dagger blinks once.
“That’s kinda fucking rude.”
“No, what’s rude is whatever the fuck this situation is!” Mina throws her hands up dramatically. “I was having a great night before you two showed up looking like the world’s most toxic episode of Jerry Springer and psychologically waterboarded my high.”
Despite everything happening around us, a rough laugh almost escapes me.
Because honestly?
That’s probably the most accurate description of this entire mess anyone’s ever given.
Blair stirs weakly against my chest while I start forcing us through the crowd fast, one arm locked securely around her.
The foam gets thinner the farther we move from the center of the dance floor, bass still pounding violently behind us while Dagger stays close enough beside me to cover every angle automatically.
Mina hurries after us struggling to keep up through the crowd.
“This is actually insane,” she mutters breathlessly behind us. “Like genuinely criminal behavior.”
“Yeah,” Dagger mutters distractedly while scanning faces around us. “You should probably stay away from us.”
“That feels aggressively obvious now, actually. But unfortunately I’d never forgive myself if I handed my newly adopted emotionally unstable friend over to two men who look like the opening scene of a Dateline episode.”
Dagger snorts quietly beside me.
“That’s kinda dramatic.”
“You literally look like you’ve buried bodies together.”
“Well,” I mutter, adjusting Blair higher against my chest, “we have—”
Mina freezes.
Slowly turns toward both of us.
“…You know what?” she says immediately, holding up a hand. “Never mind. I’m actually not going to ask.”
Probably smart.
A group of drunk guys stumble into our path near one of the bars.
Dagger shoulders straight through them without slowing down. One starts mouthing off until he sees the look on Dagger’s face.
Then immediately decides against it, smart choice man.
Blair makes another weak sound against my chest while her fingers twitch faintly against my shirt. I tighten my grip instinctively.
“Stay with me, baby.”
Her lashes flutter slightly, but theres no real response.
My chest tightens violently anyway.
“She gonna be okay?” Mina asks quieter now.
Neither of us answer immediately.
Because neither of us actually know.
The drugs. The heat.
Whatever the fuck she mixed tonight.
It could go bad fast, again.
“We’ll handle it,” Dagger says finally.
Mina snorts sharply. “That inspires absolutely zero confidence.”
We cut through the outer edge of the festival quickly after that, leaving behind the worst of the lights and bass as we hit the darker stretch of parking lots lining the beach.
The atmosphere changes instantly.
Less noise and people.
My eyes scan automatically while we move between rows of cars.
Every parked vehicle suddenly feels like a potential ambush.
Dante’s people know how we operate.
After what we did to get her back, they know exactly how much Blair matters to us.
“You think they followed us out here?” Dagger asks low enough only I hear.
“Don’t know yet.”
“Real fucking helpful.”
“Shut the fuck up and watch the lot. We wouldn’t even be in this situation if you didn’t let her sneak out of your apartment.”
Mina looks between both of us while wrapping her arms tightly around herself against the cold ocean wind sweeping through the parking area.
“You know,” she mutters, “Brynne used to say you two had the emotional communication skills of feral raccoons.”
Dagger snorts quietly.
“Now that I’m here, witnessing it myself, she wasn’t wrong.”
That hits harder than expected, because for half a second I can hear Brynne laughing again.
Can see her standing between us rolling her eyes while we argued over stupid bullshit like whose turn it was to drive.
Ghosts everywhere.
Always.
My car sits near the far edge of the lot beneath broken streetlights.
Blacked out windows, with untraceable plates. Prepared for situations exactly like this.
Dagger opens the back door immediately while I carefully lower Blair inside first.
She barely stirs.
Mina hesitates beside the car for a second before looking between me and Dagger again.
Then down at Blair sprawled unconscious across the backseat.
Then back at us.
“Okay so you two do know this whole thing is deeply fucked up, right?”
Dagger leans one arm against the roof of the car, breathing hard from adrenaline and panic and rage still pumping through both of us.
“You have no idea.”
Mina stares harder.
“No seriously. Your dead girlfriend’s little sister? Between both of you? That’s like… therapist retirement fund levels of trauma.”
Neither of us answer.
Because what exactly is there to say?
She’s right, this whole thing is fucked.
But the second Blair stumbled into our lives, it stopped mattering whether it was wrong.
All that mattered was keeping her breathing.
Mina mutters something under her breath about needing several years of therapy before climbing into the backseat beside Blair anyway.
I shut the door firmly behind them while my eyes keep scanning the parking lot automatically.
Watching Waiting.
Dagger circles toward the passenger side, still tense enough that I know he’s already thinking ten steps ahead.
Because now that Dante’s men have seen her?
Everything just got worse.