I yanked Esme back, hard enough to make her stumble away from the woman who was still holding the damn needle in her hand.
"Have you lost your fucking mind?" I hissed at her. "Are you trying to die?"
"What are you talking about?" the lady asked, blinking like she hadn't just almost drained someone dry.
I turned to her. "Show me your license!"
Everyone in the clinic always complied when I asked. This woman? She just stood there, caught in the headlights.
Esme tried to pull herself away from me. "Why do you care? Don't you want me to die?" she snapped bitterly. "Don't cry and pretend to be merciful. Stay out of my business!"
"Why the fuck would I cry over you?" I muttered. If it weren't for the fact that she was my sister and the walking embodiment of a cautionary tale, I would've walked away and let her pass out face-first in the alley. But I knew how she operated—she'd drag me into her mess tomorrow if I didn't clean it up tonight.
