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I knew I wouldn’t get any answers when I got here, but once we were on the inside, I hoped I would get something from him. But he was stonewalling me, and based on how jittery he looked, I wondered if Gelbero was his only concern.
“FNG, take a walk,” I said in a low voice.
He didn’t argue as he opened the door and stepped outside. I turned back to Jack, ready to hash it out with him if he wasn’t honest with me.
“Tell me the truth, are you okay?”
“I’m not in prison,” he snapped, his eyes wild with anger.
I grabbed him by the arm and pulled up his sleeve, fighting him as he tried to get out of my grasp. Fresh needle marks dotted his arm. He was fucking using.
“Jack, what the fuck are you doing?”
He jerked his arm away and ran his hand through his hair as he turned away from me. “Leave it alone.”
“Are you fucking serious? Not a chance in hell.”
“It’s part of the job,” he snapped, spinning back and getting in my face. “Did you honestly think I would get out and this would all be over?”
I stared at him, my jaw ticking angrily as I stared at the man who was slowly disappearing. “No, but you can’t do your job if you’re fucked up. Find a way around it.”
“Don’t you think I’m trying?” He shook out his hands, walking away from me. He was on edge, probably barely holding on. “It’s not just that. When I…before prison, I spent a week fucked up. It did something to me, something that I can’t just push out of my mind.”
“But you didn’t use in prison, right?”
His haunted eyes met mine, and while I was sure now that he didn’t use in prison, I knew there were other things that happened to him. Things he wouldn’t share with me. And as long as he was working this job, he wouldn’t get help.
“No, I didn’t. But now I’m out and…”
“The temptation is there,” I finished.
Sweat trickled down his forehead, just the beginning signs of withdrawal. I didn’t know what to do, how to help him. Maybe I could get on the inside with him.
“Bring me into the fold.”
“Are you fucking crazy?” he laughed. “First, I don’t bring anyone in. I’m here out of sheer luck that I didn’t fucking die in prison. I had to earn every fucking ounce of this guy’s trust. And even then, I’m still under his thumb.”
“Then let me fucking help you,” I insisted.
“No,” he shook his head, swiping his hand under his nose. With every second that passed, he was spiraling out of control.
“You can’t do this on your own,” I snapped, grabbing his arm again. “Let me help you.”
He let out a humorless laugh before his voice turned dark. “No one can help me now.”
“Bullshit. We’re a team. You need me here. You’re falling apart.”
But he wouldn’t listen. He jerked out of my grasp and paced away from me.
“You need to leave. Now.”
“Why? So you can take another hit without me watching? This has gone on long enough. You’re destroying yourself. Every fucking second you stay here is one more that you might not make it out of this alive. I don’t want to hear about you overdosing on the news.”
“It wouldn’t make the headlines anyway,” he muttered.
“Jack—”
“Two months,” he said suddenly. “You know where I am. Give me two fucking months to make some headway.”
