Despite the futility of it, Miri wriggled beneath me, screaming and cursing, her voice a whisper soft, but clearly infuriated rasp. I waited patiently on top of Miri, holding her tight until she wore herself out. Yeah, the easy route would be to shut her up by returning the slap. Fuck, the one she laid on me was hard enough to put the copper taste of blood on my tongue. Anyone else would have gotten his or her throat slit or a bullet in the head for that. But it seemed beyond even my level of cruelty to beat on such a small, weak human, and I just didn’t have it in me today to take her life. The mere thought of it nearly stopped my heart. I shook my head and focused on Miri.
“Are you done having your tantrum?”
Miri said nothing. Her chest heaved as she caught her breath. Miri’s head listed to the side, certainly to avoid eye contact. I stood and held out a hand to help her to her feet. When she sneered at it, I rolled my eyes to hide the heat that shot to my groin. With an evil smirk, I snatched her by the waist, and threw her over my shoulder. She immediately clawed at my back and I heard the rip of stitches and fabric tearing apart.
Another suit all fucked up and wrinkled.
“I’m beginning to think you like being in this position, doll.”
“Fuck you.” She landed a weak blow on my backside before giving up. It appeared I had actually managed to drain the fight from her. While I was glad since my head was throbbing and I was more than fed up, the fact that Miri’s fire was snuffed sort of disturbed me. I liked that side of her, the tenacious, passionate girl beneath the pale, beautiful, wrecked surface.
“You say that an awful lot, doll. You offerin’?” I knew she didn’t want me to fuck her, but I wasn’t expecting the gasp or the shudder that wracked her body. Hmmm. “Is that a yes?”
Her response was instant. “No.”
I laughed at her petulance and opened the door to my bedroom. In two steps, I crossed the room and dumped her right onto the middle of my king-sized bed. I forced myself not to think about how I'd have to burn the sheets if the girl was bleeding from anywhere and focused on the moment. Miri scrambled to her knees while I locked the door and pocketed the key. Her eyes darted from me to the door and back.
“Plotting your escape?” Unhurried, I loosened my tie and pulled it off, the silk whispering as it slid through my collar. Then I shrugged off my jacket and threw it in the garbage can. The tie along with it. In the large walk-in closet, I toed off my shoes and placed them on a shelf. When I came out, Miri was still frozen on the mattress.
I walked over to the bed and sat, waiting for her to look at me. Stubborn as she was, it took several minutes before she turned. Once she did, I spoke.
“Now, we’re going to have that talk.”
Miri
Trapped. Moved from one prison to another. I was trapped in this room, on this bed, with a man who proved he could easily overpower me like a tiger fighting a kitten. Anger radiated off him in waves as he reclined against the headboard, legs crossed at the ankles, hiding his fury by acting as if holding a woman hostage was a normal, everyday occurrence. I swallowed and glanced at his annoyingly handsome face and spotted a bright red handprint across his cheek. The drugs really made me do some really stupid shit, though I wasn’t sure I could blame all of my anger on heroin. I flinched, realizing I was probably safer chained to the bed in the other room than here with Boss after hitting him. My pulse floundered at the thought.
Shit.
Maybe apologizing would lessen whatever punishment I was about to receive. “I-I didn’t mean to hit you. I’m sorry.”
Boss put a hand to his cheek, the tips of his fingers scraping over the stubble. “I see. You’re sorry.” His gleaming eyes narrowed. “Too bad I don’t believe a word of it.” My heart skipped a beat and fear skittered down my spine. My stomach twisted in a familiar way, the drugs in my body keeping it in a constant state of discomfort. “You meant to hit me. You wanted to hit me.” In a flash, Boss twisted his torso and grabbed my face in one hand, squeezing my cheeks hard enough to keep me from even thinking about trying to get free. “I’m giving you that one hit. One, Miri. You were scared. You had been chained to a bed. I get that.”
He shifted closer, our noses almost touching. My face ached from the pressure of his fingers digging into my flesh, yet despite the pain I couldn’t help but notice the brilliant flecks of turquoise within those deep blue irises. “Do it again, and don’t doubt what I say, doll. You will regret the day you ever came here.”
Boss released my chin and I turned away, shame scorching my face and neck while terror knotted and swelled in my stomach. It was bad enough to be humiliated and handcuffed to a bed by his men, but to know there was nothing I could do to escape, or more precisely, if I managed to escape, I had nowhere to go and Boss would likely have me killed. Well, that knowledge was worse than anything that had been done to me since I stupidly wandered onto his property.
“I’m glad you understand,” he said as if I had agreed to some unspoken agreement. “I expect you to behave from now on. Period. I don’t like messes and I really don’t appreciate having my things broken.” I glanced over to see him reclining on the bed, his hands tucked behind his head. “I’m thinking you need to spend all of your time chained to the bed if your behavior is going to continue.”
I felt the blood rush from my face. Nausea threatened to upheave my stomach. “I-I can’t… I mean, I don’t want to stay in my room all the time.”
Boss sat up and tilted his head to one side. “What was that?”
My palms were slick and clammy. “I-I don’t like being confined. It… it scares me.” I closed my eyes and thought about all the times my mom locked me in the closet for hours upon end whenever I pissed her off, which was all the time. The isolation was worse than her just going on and hitting me.
“Why would I allow you to wander free in my house after you destroyed my guest room? After you slapped me?” He shifted closer, his brow knitting. I stared at his face, unable to comprehend how someone so utterly terrifying could still be so beautiful it almost hurt to look at him. Boss appeared to be thinking over my request, so I stayed quiet. “If I didn’t lock you in your room, would you behave?”
I blinked in surprise. “Yes. I would. I promise.”
“There are men in my house and on the grounds at all times as well as cameras. You won’t be able to escape, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
Once again, I looked away. This time, I merely shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I have nowhere else to go.” My eyes misted over and my throat tightened. I could feel the weight of Boss’s gaze while the heavy silence went on for what felt like forever.
He let out a long sigh, his expression annoyed though his sapphire eyes shone with something more... heated. “Jesus Christ. Fuck. All right. I’ll give you free rein of the house. You can do whatever you want, within reason. Sleep, read—I have a rather large library downstairs—or walk the grounds.”
Boss leaned in and entered my personal space. He was so close I couldn’t help myself. I inhaled sharply through my nose, taking pleasure in the rich cologne he used combined with the luxurious soap and the underlying scent of him.
My body vibrated with tension. The way he looked at me, carnal, hungry, I wondered if Boss was finally ready to demand payment in exchange for his hospitality. He had me in his bedroom, on his bed, and already proved he could subdue me quite easily. I waited for a sign, for anything to indicate it was time to pay his fee. The thought reminded me of how harsh my reality had been over the past six months.
“Nothing is free.”
I held my breath, waiting. Instead of unzipping his pants, a finger slid beneath my chin to gently lift my head until I was staring at the stunning face of the most complicated man I had ever met.
“I might be giving you this small bit of freedom, but don’t get hurt, don’t make a mess, and don’t snoop.” Boss’s expression hardened. “Not only is there nothing on the premises to find, I don’t like people poking around in my busi
ness. And I despise disorder. My men will be watching. Make no mistake, there will be no second chance. No handcuffs. No locked rooms.” The way he said the last part sent a sharp shudder through my frail body as Boss revealed another glimpse of the ruthless drug lord behind the handsome facade.
“I won’t snoop.”
Boss nodded and released my chin. He gave me one last smoldering look before standing up, then stopped next to a tall piece of furniture and took something out of his pocket before heading for the bathroom.
“I’m tired and need a shower. The key is on the dresser. You can show yourself out.”
He closed the bathroom door behind him, leaving me completely baffled. A drug lord who compromised? One who was kind? Yeah right. I guess I would find out how kind Boss was.
I shivered, unsure if it was caused by fear or desire.
Boss
“What are you doing, Boss? Really? I don’t fucking get where your head’s at. She’s just Smith’s cast-off junkie whore and you’re going to trust her in your house? At least when you kept her locked up you knew she couldn’t fuck with your shit or get in the way.”
With my arms crossed and my back to Milo, the muscles spanning my shoulders pulled taut when he callously insulted Miri. I gnashed my teeth to tamp down my anger and continued staring out the kitchen window at the stunning sight in my backyard. Miri was wandering aimlessly around the manicured gardens, wearing the clothes one of my men purchased for her last week. Whoever went to the store chose well. Today, Miri wore a beautiful, loose cotton dress, the material printed with delicate flowers.
It was only ten days ago that Miri came stumbling onto my property and into my life, bringing her red hair, green eyes, and feisty attitude with her. Yes, she was argumentative, and yes, sometimes she stared at me as if she wished me dead. But there were times when I would swear she was looking at me differently. In a way that made me wonder if she might find me attractive. Not nice, not pleasant. I knew she thought me to be cruel, and make no mistake, I was. But sometimes, I felt the weight of her gaze when she thought I wasn’t looking. Miri wanted me, despite the shit I’d said and done to her since she got here. Me? When she was pissed, shouting and fighting like a fiery little storm, my cock turned hard as steel. But now, even watching her do mundane things like meander in the yard, mesmerized me.
In ten short days, Miri somehow made me feel as if I’d known her a lifetime. Milo, however, had become a huge problem. The normally reticent man bitched about Miri louder every day. He refused to understand why I insisted she stay. Each of his increasingly rude and cutting comments made me angrier by the minute. Milo was of the very loud opinion that I should dump Miri on a street corner as if she were worth less than a sack of garbage. Oh, after fucking her and passing her around to every other guy on the premises, then slitting her throat and gleefully watching her bleed to death. How could I forget that part?
To a guy like Milo—to most of the guys in this business—Miri was garbage. She was disposable. Her value began and ended with sex. After what happened to Rose, that mindset infuriated me to the point I was seething with rage. It took extreme amounts of self-control to shove down the urge to spin around and drive my fist into my lieutenant’s throat. Instead of giving in to the violence, I spoke quietly, yet the threat in my tone was crystal clear.
“I don’t answer to you, Milo. I’ve said this before and you know I don’t care to repeat myself.”
My burgeoning anger stemmed mostly from Milo’s lack of giving a fuck. But I couldn’t deny part of it was that I was pissed at myself for wanting Miri in a way I shouldn’t. When my cock throbbed from the fantasies I spun of Miri lying naked on my bed, I shook it off and refocused on the garden. It made me smile to watch Miri track a large yellow butterfly flitting around a cluster of purple flowers. When the insect landed on her bare shoulder, Miri’s face broke into a huge grin. My heart lurched at the sight and my damn cock swelled, stiffening inside my pants.
Miri was still much too thin, her skin sallow and riddled with scars, but the woman in my backyard looked a thousand times better than the filthy, desperate girl from a week and a half ago. Milo grunted and out of the corner of my eye, I saw him staring lasciviously at the vision in the garden. Watching him eye-fuck Miri infuriated me to the point I wanted to dig Milo’s eyes out of his skull with one of my throwing knives. I tore my gaze from Miri to face my lieutenant, who was currently walking a very, very thin line.
“How long will she be here?” Milo hissed, his face a mask of contempt mixed with lust.
So she’s a piece of shit junkie, but he’d obviously still stick his dick in her.
A frown pulled at the edges of my mouth and my molars ground together. “She’ll be here for as long as I fucking say.” Two strides and I was in Milo’s space, our chests bumping . “Besides, it’s none of your fucking business. I. Am. The. Boss. What I say goes, no questions asked. If I tell you I want a goddamn harem of junkie whores living in my house, eating my food, using my drugs, and spending my money, you ask how many to bring. You do not question if it’s a good idea. I’m getting really fucking sick and tired of having this conversation, and I’m warning you, Milo, I won’t have it again.”
Milo’s dark eyes flashed with anger, but he knew his place and backed off. That didn’t stop me from noting his disgust at my show of my power over him.
“I got it, Boss.” His gaze flicked past me to the backyard and he openly leered at Miri. My fists ached to smash into his sick face. I needed to get Milo away from me before I did something vicious and irreversible to my right-hand man. He might be very useful and damn good at his job, but no one was irreplaceable.
“I want you to go find Four and work out his section. One or two of his guys haven’t been meeting their quotas. I expect a report in less than an hour.” Milo understood the code we used to discuss business. Because of the potential for eavesdroppers, every dealer was referred to by his area number, not a name.
“Yes, Boss Man.” With a huff, Milo spun and stormed out of the room.
Fuck him.
His constant bitching about Miri really got under my skin to the point where the brutal man inside me was becoming difficult to hold back. Even now, I flexed my forearms under my dress shirt, taking note of the tight leather bands that held my blades.
I learned the art of knife throwing as a bored kid living in the ghetto with no supervision of any kind. As an adult, I simply felt more comfortable with my blades on me at all times. But goddammit. No one questioned me. Ever. Not even Milo, who had been with me since the beginning, was safe from suffering my wrath if he dared to defy me too many times, and he was getting really fucking close to my limit. Apparently, I gave him too much leeway in voicing his opinion.
That would stop immediately.
I stepped back to the window and smiled as Miri wandered through the lush garden, trailing her fingertips over the various plants and flowers lining the stone walkway. The sun shone bright behind her, lighting up her red hair in a fiery halo around her head. Junkie or not, nothing could hide that fact that Miri was gorgeous. Breathtaking.
Movement in my peripheral vision caught my attention and I tracked a member of my security team as he approached Miri. Miri startled when he appeared on the path. The prick slipped out from behind a dense shrub, purposely scaring her. The verbal exchange that followed made the guard grin, but Miri’s back was facing me, so I had to study her body language to decipher her reaction.
From the stiffening of her spine, it was instantly apparent—Miri did not want this asshole anywhere near her. She took a step back as discomfort radiated off her body. I was about to head out the back door when the guard’s hand shot out and caught Miri by the roots of her hair. He yanked hard, twisting her neck, and forced her to her knees on the stone path.
Rage flushed hot over my skin. How dare he lay a goddamn hand my fiery yet frail doll. I flung open the French doors in the kitchen and sprinted across the lush green lawn. Without the thick bulletp
roof glass separating us, I was able to hear Miri’s frightened cries. The pitiful sound speared me right in the heart. I increased my speed and my vision sharpened from a burst of adrenaline.
By the time I reached the garden path, the son of a bitch had Miri pinned facedown on the ground with a hand around her tiny neck. Her billowy dress was shoved up and her underwear pulled down, exposing her pale buttocks as the man used his free hand to fumble with his belt. All of the pent-up anger I’d been harboring toward Milo had finally found an outlet. My brain was running on pure primitive instinct, every bit of rational thinking depleted at the sight of Miri lying beneath this rapist asshole. With a roar, I grabbed the man and tore him off of the tiny, sobbing woman. One flick of my wrist and I had a blade in my hand. He froze when I held it to his throat.
“You motherfucker!” I spat in his face. He put his fists up at first, ready to fight, but when he realized who I was and felt the cold steel against his skin, he drained stark white. The man’s eyes grew so wide they looked as if they would pop right out of his head. I wrapped my hand around his throat and pulled him until we were nose-to-nose. “How dare you touch what belongs to me.”
The guard’s hands clutched at my wrists as he clawed and struggled to keep me from crushing his fragile windpipe. With my other hand, I shifted to hold the blade to his temple. His ghostly pale skin began to turn a deep shade of crimson as the sick bastard fought to pull oxygen into his lungs. Not yet. I didn’t want this to be over so fast. No, he didn’t deserve mercy for what he was going to do, so I lessened my grip long enough for the prick to suck in a breath, only to clamp back down, continuing the torture like a cat playing with a mouse.
No quick and easy death for you, fucking rapist piece of shit.
“I-I didn’t know, Boss,” he wheezed, choking and coughing out his excuse. This fucker must be new, because I’d never seen him before.
Junkie (Broken Doll #1) Page 7
