Page 68 of Corrupt

I didn’t like that thought though, so I shoved it down and took the metal stairs two at a time, the stupid flutter in my chest waiting to detonate.

I unlocked the door.

Tristan glanced up from the sofa.

He’d found pieces of himself from the night before. Suit trousers back on, his white shirt loose and open at the throat, sleeves rolled to his elbows. He was leaning forward, elbows on his knees, staring at the coffee table.

I smiled, lifting the takeaway bags. “Hope you like Greek food.”

Tristan gave me a small, odd smile. And I saw why.

On the coffee table, right in front of him, lying atop the glass and pretending to be innocent, was a foil packet.

Pretty Poison.

My stomach dropped. Sharp, ugly, immediate.

Right. Of course. I’d meant to stash it in the duffel. Didn’t. Because apparently, I was a piss-poor drug dealer who left designer MDMA in plain sight of the one man who absolutely shouldn’t see it. More than that, it was a reminder. A mirror. This was why Tristan Hale-Fitzroy shouldn’t be in my space.

I dropped the food onto the kitchen counter and went to him. He sat back on the sofa, watching me as if trying to read my face. I sighed, moved around the coffee table, and dropped beside him.

“You know what I do,” I said.

“Yep.” Tristan nodded once. “I do.”

“So this can’t be a shock.”

“It’s not…” He picked up the packet between two fingers, careful, curious. “It’s… not cocaine.”

“No.”

“What is it?”

“How are you with your drug lingo?”

He huffed a soft laugh. “I’m a criminal barrister, Razor. Not a nun.”

“Mandy.” I waited. “Top shelf. MDMA if you want the lab coat version.”

He looked down at the label. “Pretty Poison.”

“A new brand.”

“Is it… legitimate?”

“To take? It’s clean. Pure.” I rubbed my hand over my jaw. “Not half-baked, if that’s what you’re asking.”

He swallowed. Looked away. “To be fair, I’m not even sure what I’m asking.”

“Least it ain’t that you wanna take it.”

Silence stretched between us. Then he looked at me. And there was something behind those blue eyes I couldn’t name. Not fear, not confusion. It was sharper. Hungrier.

“It’s… for sex, right?”

“Don’t call it the Love Buzz for no reason.”

“So…this was what Ollie took. With Benji.”