5
JAX
Tremors wracked Saint’s body as I tried in vain to get him to lie still. I’d cleaned him up as best I could and put him in my bed; I was pretty sure he’d stashed a supply of Black in his room and there was no f*****g way I’d risk him ingesting more of the s**t.
He’d suffer hard the next couple of nights, but it was the only way through it. We needed to dry him out.
“Jax,” he said, his eyes frantic in the dark. “Jax. I just need… a little. Two or three to help with the…” He clenched his gut, doubling over in pain. “Please, Jax. I know you’ve got some on you. Just a couple. Then I won’t ask again.”
“No.”
“Fine. One. One lousy f*****g p-p-pill. That’s it.”
The request fell on deaf ears.
I pulled a chair up next to the bed and pressed a cold cloth to his forehead. His temperature
