erratic behavior on lack of sleep and long hours. The risk was worth it if she found Ryker alive. Ella pushed through the crowd, disgusted by the lack of clothed women. Women walked around naked while some spun around on the stripper poles with their legs spread. She didn’t spot either Ryker or Razor, so she pushed deeper into the crowd. The full-patch members enjoyed the women walking around like servants to them. One man grabbed a female’s tits and licked her nipples without any preamble. They did whatever the hell they wanted with these women and the women let them. As she moved deeper into the room, she saw Razor in the back with a girl kneeling before him. His head was resting on the back of the couch while his arm was out beside him. He was clearly enjoying himself, Ella mused. That was until he spotted her. He sat up a little straighter and glanced toward the door. “What are you doing here?” “I came to bribe you.” She lifted the bottle of fentanyl. “I want to talk to Ryker.” He sucked in a breath, staring at the bottle. “He’s entertaining some bitches in the back. I seriously doubt he wants to talk.” So he was sleeping with other women. The thought made her want to throw up. Part of her wondered why she even bothered. The other part of her knew that more than anything, he needed her help. “I don’t know. I can be pretty persuasive.” She shook the bottle lightly. “Do we have a deal?” He nodded once and she tossed the bottle to him. He waved her back and she went down the darkened hall, the music less intrusive. She knocked on the first door and found another guy fucking three women. Sweat rolled down his meaty back as a smile crossed his face, hips still pumping into one of the women. He made some comment about her joining them. She rolled her eyes and closed the door, going to the second room. Ryker bent over the dresser, snorting a row of powder. He was alone, and he looked a mess. His dark hair was greasy. Coke covered the dresser, the effects of feeding an addict’s habit. Her heart broke as she took in the effects of his drug abuse. He’d told her he’d been clean for a while. To see him relapse nearly ripped her apart. She stared at him a moment, debating what to do next. “You shouldn’t be here, Ella.” Tears filled his eyes and he tried to wipe the powder from his face. “You need to stay away from me.” “Says who? Your father?” He swallowed. “I’m not a good person. I can’t love you like you need.” His voice broke as he spoke to her. “I tried.” He sniffled. “I did. I gave it an honest effort.” He turned away from her. “You deserve someone better than a junkie. You deserve someone that will be there to hold you and love you. To cherish you. I can’t do it. I can’t be that guy for you.” She walked around the mess and went to him. “Look at me.” When he did, he had pinpoint pupils. His nose was bleeding and he was a fucked up mess. “Why did you start using again?” She pushed him back to the bed and reached for a tissue from the box on the dresser. “I thought we worked out that craving.” “They injected me as punishment for being with you.” He blew out a breath. “Ella, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought you into this. I don’t think I can get you out of it unless you stay away from me. If you stay away from me, everything will be okay again. They won’t bother you if I leave you alone.” She wiped the blood from his nose. Every word he said broke her heart. They’d forced him into a relapse. It explained the video. She tossed the tissue into the trash, noticing that he was working his way through a gram of cocaine. They were sadistic bastards. His own fucking father was as evil as they came. “Ella, you need to leave.” He grabbed her hand but instead of pushing her away, he pulled her to him. She stumbled, falling to the bed beside him. A moment of panic rushed through her as he moved on top of her.