Desperately Devastated (Addicted To You, Book Nine) by Lucy Covington

I knew I was in no condition to have an important conversation, but I wasn’t thinking clearly. Besides, I needed to find out what he knew about Jimbo’s murder.
    I found myself outside the bar with the cell phone pressed to my ear.
    He answered on the first ring. “Where are you right now?” he asked, a tension in his voice that was unmistakable.
    “Don’t worry about me,” I slurred.
    “Are you intoxicated, Justin?”
    “Tell me what the fuck is going on.”
    He sighed. “I think you should come and speak to me in person. I’m in D.C. but we can get you a flight out first thing in the morning.”
    “I’m not going to D.C. to talk to you,” I said, swaying a little, pressing my back against the cold brick wall of the building. A punk couple with piercings, tattoos and combat boots strode by me, holding hands.
    “You’re not safe on the street anymore,” Driscoll said. “Do you understand that?”
    “Do you know who killed Jimbo?” I asked him.
    There was a long pause. “No,” he said, finally. “But we have our suspicions.”
    “I don’t see why I’m in so much danger. You think whoever killed him wants to kill me, too?”
    Another long pause. “I can’t be sure. But we need to be very cautious.”
    I shook my head as the whole thing started to click into place. “Jimbo was working with you, wasn’t he?” I asked, my voice shaking with rage and frustration and…a cold sliver of fear.
    “Yes,” Agent Driscoll said. “We can’t be sure, but it’s possible that someone found out he was cooperating with our investigation of Quarry Davenport.”
    “Jesus, you must think I’m a fucking idiot,” I whispered.
    “Justin, listen to me.”
    “No, fuck that. You listen to me, Driscoll,” I spit. “You screwed up and got my friend killed and now you want to screw around with my life too?” My voice was getting louder and louder. A bouncer glanced at me from nearby.
    “Calm down and let’s talk about this.”
    “You probably don’t even know if there’s someone leaking shit to Quarry from inside the FBI, do you?”
    “It’s far more likely that James told somebody who told Quarry.”
    “You don’t know that, though. Do you?”
    He didn’t say anything.
    “That’s what I thought.”
    “Listen to me, Justin. You are not safe anymore. The biggest mistake we made was underestimating Quarry and the best chance is for you to come to D.C. and meet with us so we can establish a plan for your safety.”
    “I’m not going to do that. And don’t contact me again unless you plan on arresting me.” I hung up the phone and put it in my pocket. No more phone calls, I decided. That one had been bad enough to last me awhile.
    The bouncer was giving me a cautious sidelong glance. I stared back at him.
    “Something bothering you?” I challenged him.
    “Nope,” he said, looking away and shaking his head.
    “Good,” I said, my hands still shaking. “Now let me back in. I’ve got some drinking to do.”
    A minute later, I was back in the bar and the beer was flowing again. There was no thought involved, nothing except my decision to get as blasted and fucked up as I’d ever been in my life.
    I wasn’t talking to anybody, I wasn’t socializing or partying.
    No, the point was to forget. Forget everything.
    Some hours later, the bar closed down and I stumbled out into the dark and mostly empty street. My awareness had narrowed down to the smallest pinpoints of blurred vision and echoing sounds that mixed together in my brain like some new, strange cocktail.
    After stumbling along for a bit, I didn’t really even know or care where I was anymore. A sensation of overwhelming exhaustion overcame my whole body and soul.
    Not long after that, I tried to keep walking but couldn’t do it anymore.
    I told myself I’d simply sit down for a minute and try and recoup my energy and get sober.
    But seconds after sitting down on the sidewalk beside an old jewelry store, my back against plate glass, I