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Giving him a small smile, we fight our way through the dense crowd until we finally reach the staircase.
Tristan leads, but my hand sits securely in his the entire time, as I know he’s taken Quinn’s words to heart.
As we reach the top step, Tristan thankfully lets go of my hand. It’s slightly less crowded up here, but I still stay close as we begin our search. There is a fluorescent-lit bar to our left with a few lounges and tables and stools, and I know this is where people come to make out or to score drugs.
My eyes follow the movements of a young wannabe gangster with baggy pants, a white tank, and a blue bandanna hanging from his back pocket as he works the room, seeking out his prey. My stomach roils, and I feel sick that I know his kind so damn well because I am his kind—a fact I wish I could change.
Tristan follows my line of sight and quickly places his hand on my cheek, turning me to face him. His gentle eyes soften as he wordlessly tells me that I’m nothing like that gangster, but I am.
I shrug him away as unwanted tears well in my eyes.
“I’ll check the girls’ bathroom!” I yell into his ear as I stand on tippy-toes to reach his tall frame.
He nods, and I’m glad he doesn’t insist on waiting outside because I need some time alone. Being in this environment brings back too many unwelcome memories, ones I wish I could permanently erase from my mind.
Pushing my way through groups of people, I finally make it to the bathroom and escape inside, grateful to be alone. It smells like vomit and piss, but I take a minute to center myself and focus on what’s important so we can get the hell out of here.
After checking every stall and coming up empty, I brace my hands over a sink and bend low, taking a deep, calming breath, which makes me feel slightly better. Turning on the faucets, I splash some water onto my heated cheeks and look at my face in the mirror.
I look tired and drained, but I tell myself to man up and get back out there.
A girl in a one-piece tube dress comes stumbling out of a cubicle, wiping her white powdered nose with the back of her hand. My blood instantly boils, and I tell myself to get out before I give her a lecture about using drugs.
Kicking open the door, I find Tristan leaning up against the wall waiting for me.
“Anything?”
“Nothing,” he says with a firm shake of his head.
“You?”
“Nothing. Let’s go find Quinn.”
We make our way back downstairs.
If possible, the crowd has doubled, and I cringe. Finding Quinn will be a nightmare. Tristan senses my dilemma and reaches for my hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
Regardless of how he feels toward me at the moment, he can’t help but come to my rescue during times of crisis. He will forever be my knight in shining armor, and I know I don’t deserve it, but having him on my side makes me stronger and makes everything seem like it’ll be okay.
“There he is!” Tristan yells, gesturing with his head to our far right.
Standing on tippy-toes, I see Quinn scanning the crowd looking for us, and no doubt Polly, as his search looks to have been unsuccessful also.
Tristan suddenly places me in front of him so I’m wrapped in the safety of his huge body. He then proceeds to push his way through the swarms of people, using both hands to clear a path in front of us.
This method proves to be successful as people move, and I stay enclosed in his warmth, feeling safer than ever before. When we finally reach Quinn, he eyes our connection with distaste, but he doesn’t say a word and only looks at Tristan.
“Find her?”
Tristan’s chest rumbles against my back with his reply. “No.”
They continue talking while my eyes scan our surroundings, desperate to find Polly.
Suddenly realizing I’m still engulfed in Tristan’s arms, I take a small sidestep and almost fall over my feet when I do.
Over Quinn’s shoulder, I just make out the side profile of Polly as she secretly talks to the scumbag dealer I saw upstairs. My anger is suddenly amplified, and if I’ve ever been this mad, then I don’t remember when because right about now, I’m on the cusp of murdering her.
Shoving past a stunned Quinn, I practically run to where she stands, shouldering anyone who stands in my way because I’m focused on my mission, and that mission is to kill my sister. I’m about two feet away when my fists begin to twitch, and I give in to my urge and smash my fist into the dealer’s face.
