With a muttered curse, Cam rolled out of bed and turned on the light. He dressed quickly and headed out to the main room of his suite. The needlepaks lay on the bar where he’d left them, and he walked woodenly forward and stared down at them.
One hit was all it would take.
One hit would be enough to shut out Miko’s pain, allowing Cam to drift off into dreams and get the sleep he so desperately needed.
He hated himself for even thinking about it, but at the same time, his mouth watered in anticipation. Twenty years he’d been clean… would one hit be enough to send him spiraling back down into the darkness of addiction?
He reached for the packet and then stopped.
Any peace the drug could bring him would only be an illusion. Miko would still be alone and in pain. Cam just wouldn’t be able to feel his screams anymore.
But if he interfered with whatever was going on in the suite down the hall, he’d be throwing away the four years it had taken to build his reputation and earn the trust of the Guild. DeMira wouldn’t thank him for interrupting his new business partner, and God only knew what Draven would do.
He drew in a shaking breath. His fingers closed around the packet, trembling as he removed one of the needlepaks.
Two seconds to inject himself. Five minutes for the drug to start working on his psi-centers.
He only had to endure Miko’s pain for five minutes more…
And how the hell long does Miko have to endure it?
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