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her hand away from her mouth and stared at her as she smiled.
    I wanted more of it.
    I wanted to hear her laugh.
    I leaned over, stretched my arm across the space that separated the two tables and tapped the klepto on the shoulder. The lady she was with continued to rant and rave about the cold coffee and the fact that the tables were too small.
    I grabbed the bread basket off our table and tipped my chin towards her tote bag.
    “Open it,” I said, watching as she stared back at me with skeptical eyes.
    I chucked the bread basket into her tote bag, followed by the ketchup bottle on our table. Lacey giggled, handing me the salt and pepper shakers next.
    I turned to her.
    “Give it a go,” I told her.
    Her smile spread wide across her face. The smile I earned and the one I became a fiend for.
    She threw the sugar packets into the woman’s tote bag.
    “What are you doing?” The grumpy woman yelled. “Nina, for crying out loud you’re taking their condiments!”
    “Oh, Provie, shut up. They offered,” the nice one argued.
    Lacey leaned back in her chair and the smile that spread across her face became ingrained to my memory.
    It was that moment, for purely selfish reasons, I vowed to keep her smiling and make her laugh more often. Because when she smiled at me, when she laughed with me, I felt like fighting instead of quitting, living instead of dying.
    Lacey became my hope, and I gravitated to her like an electric current. She made me forget it was me who sold those innocent kids the drugs that ended their young lives. The same drugs Christine ingested when she killed herself. She pulled me into her light reminding me there was still good in the world, still things that were pure and untainted by filth.
    Until last night.
    I turned the water off, pushing my fingers through my hair and away from my face. The minute I drove my dick into that virgin pussy and tore her to shreds I tainted her. I ruined Lacey, selfishly taking something from her, something a piece of shit like me didn’t deserve. 
    I didn’t bother with a towel, and stepped out of the bathroom into the scene of the crime, staring at the desk where I fucked her.
    Fucked her.
    Her first time.
    The fucking blood on my dick was the evidence.
    Tainted by filth.
    Branded by me.
    The deeper I got inside of her, the deeper I drew my mark in her, branding her mine. Not just because I was the only one to have her but because the beast inside me threatened to never let her go.
    I was fucked.
    I had wanted her and more than wanting her, I wanted to ruin myself.  I used Lacey mindlessly, to take away my pain, to secure a way out of this hell—to fuck the sweet little thing that’s had my head up in knots for some time now.
    I never banked on wanting her to make me feel. Instead of craving numbness, I yearned to feel and not the pain and suffering I was used to but the sweet agony of being inside her. It was ironic that she brought me pleasure, something foreign to me, and I brought her pain, something she came here last night looking to be freed from.
    “Blackie, please look at me,” she pleaded.
    “I’m done looking at you, Lace.”
    As much as I was fixed on Lacey, I was nobody’s hero. I wasn’t some guy here to rescue her and take care of her. I was the kind of guy her father put a lot of effort into keeping her away from. I was the devil, and she was a goddamn angel.
    I clipped her wings last night, and it was my job to fix that. I’d go talk to her, smooth shit over and tell her I was sorry for being a world class dick. The thought alone made me sick but severing the light she provided me with…that shit was vile.
    I was fucked in so many ways and had no one to blame but myself…I wouldn’t blame it on the drugs either because I wasn’t a pussy like that.
    Fucked beyond repair.
    A dead man walking.
    I grabbed my jeans, pulling them up my legs when my door opened and Wolf strode through.
    “Put that shit away,” he said, tipping his chin towards