She didn't bother with an umbrella, the cold rain a sharp contrast to the heat building behind her eyes. She'd been here before. Just not this late. Not with this many ignored calls.

Johnny moved to block her view of the chair, running a hand through his already messy hair. His smile was a tight, panicked line.

Rebecca stepped around him. Joey was indeed in the armchair, but he wasn't asleep. His head lolled against the headrest, eyes open but unfocused. His pupils were dark, swallowing pools, even in the dim light of the room.

His words were thick, his movements jerky as he tried and failed to sit up straight. This wasn't the warm haze of beer. This was something else. Something colder.