Come on, Miri. You’ve been through so much more than this. You are strong. You’ve been to hell and back more times than you can remember.
By the time Boss had everything ready and began to wrap the length of rubber tubing around my leg, I had my emotions under control… for the most part. It was my body that betrayed me. I was sweaty, trembling, and curled halfway over my lap as my stomach twisted in pain. If Boss noticed, he didn’t say a word. After tying the tourniquet, his eyes—so unbelievably blue they had to be contact lenses—met mine.
In an unexpectedly tender gesture, Boss’s hand lightly caressed my knee. My eyes zeroed right in on his long fingers rubbing on my bare skin.
“It’ll be okay, doll.”
His misplaced sympathy had the tears burning ruthlessly against the backs of my eyes, dangerously close to overflowing. I was about to split completely open and fall apart in front of this powerful man. I chanced a peek down at his face and the dam nearly broke. Boss was gazing up at me from his position crouched at my feet, with genuine concern. My pulse skittered from the significance in that single look.
How long has it been since anyone gave a shit or looked at me like that? Anyone besides Cat?
My stomach fluttered with something other than the usual knives of pain from withdrawal and my heart leapt. I sniffed and nodded to let Boss know I was ready, then turned away so he wouldn’t see me cry. Cool alcohol tingled on my skin right before the sharp prick of the needle. A tear trickled down my face as the glorious heat entered my bloodstream. The drugs pumped quickly through my body, and brought with them an instant calm, a gentle buzzing from my toes all the way to the top of my skull. My head lolled back as I reveled in the sensation, yet the tears still flowed. No, I wasn’t high. I didn’t get euphoric from H anymore. That benefit disappeared after a month or so of using. After the highs were gone for good, the drug became a necessity just to feel normal, whatever the hell that is. Right now, I felt far from normal.
“Miri.”
“Hmmmm?”
A soft cloth wiped my cheeks. A few minutes later, I vaguely registered the sounds of Boss packing the kit and disposing of the garbage. By the time he finished, my system had accepted the drugs and I was feeling more or less awake and alert—as alert as one could be while nodding on H.
“Miri.” The voice was louder, more forceful. Startled and a little jumpy, I flinched.
“I’m here,” I whispered.
A heavy hand squeezed my shoulder. “Eat. You’ll feel better.”
“What?” I squinted at the beautiful man with the tired eyes.
He doesn’t look scary today. He looks sad. The man’s moods are up and down, kind versus terror inducing, smiling versus scowling.
I had to suppress a giggle at my wandering thoughts.
Boss pointed at the table. I turned my heavy head and my mouth fell open. In place of the zippered kit was a plate of buttered toast and a bowl of fresh fruit.
“Y-you, you made this for me?”
Boss took the chair next to mine and winked. He gave me a wide grin before taking a bite of his own toast. After washing it down with hot coffee, Boss met my curious gaze.
“I don’t cook often, doll. As in never. So instead of burnin’ down the house by attempting to make real food, I toasted a few pieces of bread and scooped fruit out of one bowl into another. But if you want to say I made breakfast, I won’t stop you.” He pointed at my plate with his fork, gave me another wink, and the confusing man continued eating.
I was flabbergasted. How long had it been since someone, anyone, did something for me just because? Something nice? And for the gesture to come from this drug kingpin, a man whose very name put the fear of god into thugs and dealers throughout the city, was mind-boggling.
Even though I wasn’t hungry, I didn’t want to upset Boss or ruin the light mood by rejecting his thoughtfulness. Since my stomach had stopped cramping after getting my dose, I breathed through my mouth and managed to nibble at the corner of a piece of lightly buttered toast. Before I knew it, my plate was clean.
I guess I was hungrier than I thought.
Not only was there never much food at Mason’s apartment, but neither Mason nor I had any inclination to do much of anything except shoot up, lie around, and in his case, fuck, and that was only when Mason was at the apartment, which wasn’t often.
Boss pushed his chair back. The scrape of wood across the floor snapped me back to the present. He stood and smoothed down his perfect shirt and tugged his perfect jacket from the back of his perfect chair and slid it on his perfect shoulders. I thought he was hot in a T-shirt and sweats, but seeing Boss in a tailored navy suit was enough to send blood pulsing between my thighs.
“Don’t worry about the dishes.” Boss’s southern drawl was less obvious this morning, but I still picked up a hint of it here and there. “My housekeeper will take care of them.” He buttoned his jacket, turned to leave the room, and I panicked.
“Wait!”
Boss pivoted until his shrewd gaze landed on me. Once again, when I was the sole focus of those intense blue eyes, my voice failed. His eyebrows raised as if to ask, What the fuck do you want?
I cleared my throat and stood behind my chair, fingers gripping the wood slats. “Ummm, what should I do?” One of my hands found its way into my hair. I wrapped a curl around my finger over and over. “I mean…” I took a quick glance around the huge kitchen. It was incredibly uncomfortable just to be in this stranger’s house, but to be here without him somewhere nearby, knowing other men were all over the place? My anxiety level skyrocketed.
Boss snapped his fingers and a man in a black suit, pressed white shirt, and black tie appeared from who knew where, to stand at Boss’s side.
“Boss.”
“Jase, bring Miri back to her room.”
I swallowed thickly. He was locking me back up. The illusion of being treated kindly splintered to pieces as reality sunk in. I wasn’t a guest. I was a prisoner.
“Miri, I have work to do and will be otherwise occupied for a few hours. One of my men is out shopping for some clothes since it seems I have nothing in the house that will fit you.”
I stared at the floor, not knowing what to do. I wanted to scream at Boss for thinking he could lock me up and keep me here, but really, where would I go? I needed H, and Boss was willing to give it to me. It was knowing I had no choice in the matter that had me shrinking back from Jase as he moved to take my arm.
“No!” I stepped away and tensed every muscle in my body, poised on the balls of my feet, ready to bolt.
Boss grimaced, and spoke in a low voice to his man. “Jase, wait here.” Suddenly, a hand clamped tight around my wrist. I was tripping over my own feet to keep up as Boss dragged me through the kitchen and down the hall to the regal staircase.
“Wait! Please, don’t lock me in.”
My plea went unanswered. I dug in my heels when we reached the bottom step. Boss spun around and shot me a glare so dark I nearly passed out from pure terror. The kind man from the kitchen was gone. Boss, the violent drug lord, the bloodthirsty bastard I heard about on the streets, curled his lip in a derisive sneer. Without a word, he grabbed me by the waist and threw me over his shoulder. My head dangled down his back and my long hair obscured my vision.
“Stop!” I curled my hands into fists and pounded uselessly on his backside. “Put me down!”
I may as well have been a fly buzzing around his head for all the good my protesting did. Boss climbed the stairs and stalked into “my” bedroom to rudely toss me onto the bed. I scrambled to my feet before he could shut the door.
“You can’t do this!” Panicked, I struck out and clawed at his neck and face, terrified at the thought of being locked away in this room.
Lightning quick, Boss pinned my wrists in one hand and shoved me down on the mattress, his heavy body holding me in place. I kicked out at him, aiming for his groin while screaming for help. Boss trapped my legs between his thick thighs and hovere
d over me, his furious face bright red and just inches from mine, welts from my nails standing out in stark relief on his skin.
Boss squeezed my wrists until I whimpered. “Don’t test my patience, Miri. You came to me, you begged me for help, you entered my fucking house. You want more of my drugs? You need to learn how things are done in this world, doll. If you can’t deal with the consequences of your actions, you shouldn’t have started shooting heroin and you most certainly shouldn’t have come here. Now,” he growled. “…this room will be your new home and if you value your life, you will not question a single word I say.” His grip on my wrists tightened to the point I cried out. By now he was so close, our noses almost touched. “Remember, I don’t owe you shit. If anything, you owe me.”
Boss gave me one last terror-inducing glare before releasing me and stepping back. He raised a hand and touched one of the scratches on his neck. When he examined his finger and saw blood, his face darkened.
“That was your one mistake.” He looked down and inspected his clothes. “You’re lucky it didn’t get blood on my suit. Make another mistake and you won’t live to see tomorrow.” Boss spun on his heel, left the room, and slammed the door. The click of the lock sealed my fate.
My mind was filled with so many questions—Why was he doing this? What did he want from me? How long would I be here? But I couldn’t focus long enough to come up with any answers. I was too busy shaking from head to toe, gasping for air and fighting the tears stinging my eyes.
What did I get myself into?
I’d jumped out of Mason’s frying pan, directly into a roaring bonfire named Boss.
4
Boss
“We have a shipment of five kilos coming in tomorrow. I got ten guys ready to cut and divide. We’ll have it on the streets in two days.” Shade, the guy in charge of my distribution warehouse, updated me on our current product status. Mexican music blared from speakers, cranked up to drown out our voices in case we were being monitored.
“Good. I want it moved out quickly.”
“Not a problem, Boss.”
Shade had been with me long enough to know how I worked. Drugs came in from suppliers in Mexico, who either got it from Colombia, Venezuela, or manufactured it themselves, and we got it the fuck out of our building as fast as possible. Less chance of being caught with it in our possession. It was easy to get a dealer off for carrying a small amount of heroin. Explaining away several million dollars’ worth of product was much more difficult.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as Shade shifted in his chair. He cleared his throat before speaking. “Boss, Two’s sales have been way up.”
I glanced at Shade, my eyebrows raised. “Really?” Two was one of my laziest, most unmotivated area dealers. He didn’t bother to put pressure on the street dealers beneath him. A sudden increase in sales didn’t make sense.
“A lot,” Shade said, giving me a knowing look. I nodded.
“Put someone on him. I want daily reports.” If Two, aka Thomas Gutierrez, hadn’t backed me up when I took over the city, he would have been out on his ass years ago.
“Got it, Boss.”
Any irregular activity, especially with a dealer like Gutierrez, a guy who preferred spending money to working his area, was something to be monitored. We walked through the building and I made sure the operation was running as it should before I left. Some bosses thought they were too good to do hands-on work. They preferred to rule from the luxury of their home, cigar in their mouth and drink in their hand. It was a big mistake to put all your trust in others. Not being involved in the business was a great way to get fucked, either financially or physically. My predecessor was too busy indulging in his product and his women to realize I was plotting to take him over. Until it was much too late.
Stupid fuck.
I stopped at several of the businesses I used to launder money, including two antique dealers and a restaurant that had to deal with a surprise raid by the police a week ago. They found nothing, of course. It would take a team of forensic accountants years to find any wrongdoing, but cops were annoying as fuck. They knew my name, knew what I did, and were pissed as hell that they could never pin anything on me.
After speaking with the manager for several hours about the visit from Austin’s finest, I had Frank bring me back to the house. What was sure to become a blinding headache if I didn’t relax soon pressed at the inside of my skull. Of course there would be no rest. There never was. The second I walked through the door, Jase flew down the stairs, panting and red-faced, sweat dripping from his temples.
“Boss, the girl…”
Without thinking, I seized the lapels of his jacket and body slammed him against the nearest wall. Jase hit with such force, the pictures shook. One frame fell to the floor and shattered. Jase’s breath left his lungs with a loud whoosh and his head thunked against the hard surface. I got right up in his face, inexplicable rage pulsing through my veins. With a quick flick of my wrist, I had a blade out of its sheath and in my hand, the cold steel pressed against Jase’s cheek.
“What the fuck did you do to her?”
Jase’s eyes went wide and he held his hands up by his head. “Nothing, Boss. I swear.”
I held him back with a hand to his chest, the knife still a millimeter away from slicing into his flesh. “Then tell me what the fuck is going on. Now.”
“S-she’s been breaking everything in her room, Boss. T-tried to throw stuff against the window to get out. Shattered the mirror in the bathroom, the lamps, all of the drawers in the dresser. We… we didn’t want her to hurt herself.” He cringed away from the dagger.
I moved it close enough to graze his skin. “What the fuck does that mean?”
Jase swallowed, his wide gaze fixed on the knife. “We were a-afraid she’d cut her wrists or s-something, so George and I… w-we had no choice. We, uh, we handcuffed her to the bed, Boss.”
“Why wasn’t I called?” The fury that ripped through me at the thought of the two big men holding down my tiny redhead and cuffing her to the bed frame turned my vision red.
“We…” Jase swallowed again, his eyes still focused on the gleaming blade. “We d-didn’t think you wanted to be bothered with it, Boss.”
“I want to know everything that happens in my organization. Especially in my own fucking house.” I pushed Jase away, returned the blade to its sheath, and stuck a finger in his face. “Don’t ever touch her without my permission. She’s mine.” I held out a hand. “Give me the goddamn key to the motherfucking cuffs.”
He scrambled to dig in his pocket and dropped the small key on my palm. I pointed at the broken picture frame.
“Clean up this mess, then get out of my sight.” Jase didn’t have to be told twice. He fled down the hall as I took the stairs three at a time, heart hammering so hard I could hear it.
If they hurt Miri… fuck! I stopped outside her room to rest my head against the door. I needed a minute to calm down or I would only scare her. It wouldn’t do any good for me to enter the room wild-eyed and seething. I breathed in and out through my nose and waited several agonizing minutes until my pulse slowed, even though every cell in my body urged me to break down the door and make sure the girl was okay.
Once I was more or less composed, I smoothed down my suit and adjusted the cuffs. On a deep inhale, I opened the door. When I stepped inside, the room was near pitch black. The heavy curtains were pulled shut and every light was off. Nothing happened when I flicked the switch, and I remembered Jase saying something about Miri breaking the lamps. There was a small bit of light coming from the hall, so I left the door open and crossed to the side of the bed. When I got close, I could see Miri was asleep. Her wrists were shackled above her head, the cuffs threaded around a thick bedpost.
I had to forcibly relax at the sight or I’d punch the fuck out of something, and I hated losing control.
Miri appeared so small, so tiny in the bed. But she seemed to be relatively unharmed, though it was too da
rk to be certain, and I needed to know. When I used the key to open the first cuff, the metallic click startled Miri and she immediately kicked wildly and screamed in a pathetically hoarse voice.
“Get the fuck away from me!”
Jesus Christ, this girl was fiery. I had to give her credit. The diminutive little thing was still fighting despite the obvious futility of her struggle. She knew there was no way she was getting out of her bonds or this house unless I allowed it.
“Stop.” I spoke with a quiet authority and Miri froze in place. She was so upset I could see the whites of her eyes as they rolled in my direction. Her pupils were dilated, so I knew she had recently received a dose.
“You.” I could barely hear her, her voice was so raw.
“I’m taking off the cuffs. Hold still.” I unlocked the second cuff and opened each one.
The minute Miri’s wrists were free she pulled away, kneeled on the bed, hauled back, and slapped me right across the face. Hard. She raised her other hand to do the same and I snatched it midair. When her free arm pulled back to slap me again, I grabbed that one as well and pinned them to her sides.
“I’d think twice about doing that again if I were you.” Thoroughly frustrated, head pounding, and now supremely pissed on top of my already shitty day, I stared her down. There might not have been much light in the room, but I had no doubt Miri could see my furious expression. She either didn’t give a shit or had some sort of death wish.
“Fuck you,” she rasped.
As surprisingly sexy as her anger was, I had more than enough of the blatant disrespect flying out of her pouty mouth. A growl tore from my chest. With Miri’s wrists in my hands, I propelled my body forward, shoving her back, using my weight to hold her down on the bed. I clamped her legs in between my strong thighs. No need to let her sneak in a kick to the nuts. If that happened, I wasn’t certain I could stop myself from doing something to the feisty girl I might end up regretting.
Junkie (Broken Doll #1) Page 6
