Quinn swallowed hard and ignored the way Jimmy put the battered tin on the coffee table, took out a mirror, and expertly tapped a pile of coke on top of it from a baggie.
“There’s a word out that Burned Skulls are looking for a business partner around these parts.”
Jimmy chuckled low and dark. Then he chopped up the coke with a razorblade he’d gotten out of the tin and divided it into three neat lines.
He grabbed a rolled up bill from the box and held it to Quinn. “You want a line?”
And this was it. The moment where Quinn could snort the coke, get his cousin’s trust, and maybe, just maybe make a difference in the future decisions of the MacGregor family. If he just threw away his sobriety and…he wanted to. He really fucking wanted to. He couldn’t take his eyes off the bill.
It took everything he had to lift his gaze from it to look at Jimmy.
“Come on, cuz. You really gonna do me like that? You know I just got out of rehab.”