Marco dropped his hand from Maxx’s chin and looked down at him with repugnance. “Fucking junkie,” he bit out, spitting in the dirt by my car.

I slowly got into the driver’s seat, not making any sudden movements. Maxx’s breathing was shallow, and he seemed to be struggling to stay awake. He moaned and brought a hand up to his bruised face. “Ouch,” he said softly.

“Should I take him to a hospital?” I asked dumbly. I didn’t know what the hell I was supposed to do.

Marco curled his lip again. “Don’t bother. He’ll live. Though he might wish he hadn’t if Gash decides to finish what he started.”

I had no idea who Gash was. I didn’t know what Marco was referring to. I just wanted to get Maxx out of there. I was feeling the beginning of a panic attack rearing its ugly head.

Marco slammed the passenger door, and I rolled the window down. “Just get him home. And tell him I’ll be by to see him in a few days and that he’d better have one hell of an excuse,” Marco said, his words an obvious threat.

I didn’t bother to comment. I didn’t know what was going on, and right now finding out wasn’t my priority. Getting Maxx out of here in one piece was.

“I don’t even know where he lives,” I said.

“He lives in an apartment above the Quikki Mart downtown. Now get him out of here. Now!” Marco barked, and I jumped.

“Okay, okay. Keep your pants on,” I muttered loud enough for Marco to hear me. He cocked his eyebrow at my statement, and his lips twitched. If I hadn’t known any better, I might have thought he found me amusing. Marco banged the top of my car before walking off.

“Aubrey! Is everything okay?”

Oh god, just kill me now!

Brooks and Catwoman were standing beside my driver’s-side door. Brooks peered down at me, his brows furrowed. His eyes flicked to Maxx, whose lucidity was questionable.

Brooks’s mouth pinched into a line, and his eyes narrowed. “What are you doing with him?” he spat out, clearly unhappy with finding me with Maxx.

Unfortunately for my friend, I didn’t have time for long-winded explanations. “I’m just giving him a lift,” I said, shrugging a shoulder and hoping my excuse would be good enough.

Maxx chose that moment to regain consciousness. He rolled his head and looked at me. He seemed confused by my being there, but then his battered face brightened as his glazed eye focused on me.

“Aubrey, baby,” he slurred, reaching over to drop his hand on my thigh.

“What the f**k, Aubrey? Isn’t this the guy in your group?” Brooks asked, pointedly looking at Maxx’s fingers, which were tracing a line up underneath my skirt. Shit.

I tossed Maxx’s hand away, and he chuckled before closing his one good eye again.

“It’s nothing,” I started to say, but Brooks held up his hand.

“Do you understand what could happen here? He’s f**king loaded, Aubrey! And you’re hanging out with him like this? Inappropriate doesn’t even begin to cover what this is,” Brooks preached, climbing up on that big ol’ soapbox he was becoming so fond of.

I wasn’t in the mood for a lecture, least of all from Brooks. Maxx started making a gurgling sound in his throat, and I was worried he was going to puke in my car.

“We can talk later. I’ve got to go,” I said in a rush. Brooks leaned into my open window and dropped his voice to a whisper. He was invading my personal space in a way I had never seen him do before. I leaned away, feeling uncomfortable. I looked over his shoulder at his date, who seemed less than thrilled by Brooks’s blatant show of male ownership of me. I didn’t blame her, and in truth I felt bad for her.

“Don’t do this, Aubrey. This is illogical and irrational and completely beneath you. Don’t be so stupid,” he said firmly, as if calling me stupid was the magic ticket to get me to listen.

He clearly didn’t know me at all.

“Get away from my car if you don’t want me to drive over your foot,” I warned, revving my engine to emphasize my point.

Brooks glared at me. I glared at him. We were in the middle of a silent showdown. Then Maxx started to heave, and Brooks jerked back from my car. I leaned over Maxx and opened the passenger-side door, pushing his head outside just in time for him to throw up.

“Ew, Brooks. Let’s go,” the girl in the catsuit whined. I didn’t bother to look at either of them. I was too busy rubbing Maxx’s back as he puked his guts out.

I could tell Brooks was hesitating, but finally both he and leather girl walked away. Maxx finally finished mangling his guts and flopped back in the seat with a moan. I got out of the car and hurried around to close his door, careful to avoid the puddle of vomit in the gravel. I felt bile rising in my throat but was able to keep it down.

I watched Maxx for a few minutes, making sure he wasn’t going to be sick again. When I was sure he wasn’t, I got back in the car and pulled out of the parking lot.

The drive to Maxx’s apartment was silent except for the occasional groan. I pulled up in front of the Quikki Mart and hurried around to get Maxx. He was coming around somewhat and was able to get out of the car on his own.

“Come on, Maxx. Let’s get you inside,” I cajoled, trying to get him to move, but he was so stoned that stumbling was the best he could do.

“I just want to sit outside for a bit,” he said, weaving his way around the side of the convenience store and sitting down heavily on a wooden staircase. He leaned his head against the side of the building and brought his hand up to his face. He didn’t seem to be feeling a lot of pain, which was good, because he’d be feeling it in the morning.