Junkie (Broken Doll #1)

by Heather C. Leigh

  I was at my base of operations when we got word of the executions. George went ballistic, with Jimmy being a childhood friend. The two of them joined up under the old boss and were as close as brothers. I was pissed, not only because my men were brutally murdered, but also because I honestly didn’t think Cuchillo had the balls to start a war with me. The fact that he did, and did it so brutally, only meant one thing. Brick in Houston had accepted his deal and the two of them had joined forces. They were going to try to overthrow my operation and take Austin for themselves.

  And they might actually succeed.

  By the time we pacified George and gathered our men for an emergency meeting at my house, I was agitated to the point of losing my shit and it was my turn being the one who had to be calmed.

  We rode in three big SUVs back to the house. The second mine stopped, I flung open the door and stormed into the house, my body exploding in a torrent of rage and my vision tinged with red.

  “Goddamn fucking motherfucking shithole cuntfaced bastard! I’m going to rip him into tiny pieces with my bare hands!”

  “Get your shit together, Boss!”

  I whirled around at Milo’s reprimand, ready for a fight. Needing a fight. Anything to let out the anger and frustration caused by the overwhelming feeling of failure. Two of my men would never come back, and it weighed heavy on my mind.

  “Shut the fuck up, Milo!” I strode up to him and bumped his chest with mine. I could see Milo attempting to hold back. His jaw pulsed and his eyes blazed with fire. Stupid prick wanted to hit me. Badly.

  “We can’t win this thing if we can’t sit down and make a goddamn plan because you’re too busy having a hissy fit,” Milo threw back.

  “Fuck you!” I put my palms on the big man’s chest and shoved. Milo stumbled back, his eyes wide. He recovered quickly, red-faced and seething. Milo straightened his suit jacket and lifted a single cocky eyebrow.

  “Like I said before, maybe having pussy living in your house is rubbing off on you, making you all emotional and shit. Hell, it made you turn down the deal Cuchillo offered. A good deal that would make us a lot of fucking money. What’s the problem, you got PMS or something, Boss?”

  At the mention of Miri, I fucking snapped. With a roar, I lowered my head and charged Milo. I smashed into him and his back collided with a glass cabinet filled with little pieces of expensive bullshit. Milo grunted when I knocked the wind out of him. The cabinet went crashing to the tile floor, exploding with a loud bang followed by the sound of shattering glass.

  “Don’t fucking go there with me, Milo!”

  My lieutenant stood and pushed me back. Pissed and desperate to unleash my rage, to cause pain, I cocked my fist to take a swing. Someone behind me grabbed my arm, holding me back from killing my right-hand man.

  “Boss, calm down.”

  The low whisper in my ear did nothing to lessen my fury. In fact, I only fought harder. Milo jumped in and took hold of my other arm, using it to maneuver me into submission. The two men pinned me against the wall while I kicked and demanded to be released. In all my years of working in this business, this was only the second time I had ever lost control. The first was when I found out my little sister was dead. I remembered how that moment felt as if it happened yesterday.

  Out of control. Unable to change anything. Helpless. A failure.

  “Get the fuck out of here, bitch!” Milo’s snarling words made me freeze, my struggle stopping abruptly. There was only one woman in the mansion he could possibly be speaking to. The housekeeper and cook wouldn’t be here this late at night. Just like that, my red-tinged fury iced over, morphing into a cloak of lethal blackness.

  “Let go of me.” My voice was so low and even, it surprised even me. Feyo, the man who helped hold me down, immediately released my arm and stepped back in line with the other men. I inhaled through my nose, willing myself to stay calm enough to speak. “If you don’t get your fucking hands off of me this second, you won’t live to see tomorrow.”

  I heard Miri gasp. She was close. Too fucking close. Too many dangerously explosive men nearby. Myself included. Finally, Milo came to his senses and let go of my arm. With a quick, well-practiced move, I snatched my KA-BAR from my leg and whirled around, pinning Milo to the opposite wall with my forearm while brandishing the long blade. I let the razor-sharp edge graze his skin where it made a pinpoint slice. Blood welled up and a single drop ran down his cheek. Furious, I dug my forearm into his thick neck, watching gleefully as his face turned red and his dark eyes flared with rage. Our noses bumped as I threw down the gauntlet once and for all.

  “Don’t ever talk about Miri again. Don’t speak to her. Don’t look at her. Don’t even fucking think about her. She has absolutely nothing to do with me turning down that prick’s shitty deal.” Even with his air cut off, Milo managed to scowl. “I don’t deal in whores and I sure as fuck don’t deal in human slavery. Got it?” I dragged the blade down and the cut opened to half an inch. A steady flow of dark blood welled from the gash, dripping down Milo’s chin and onto his suit. I had to hold back a sneer.

  Fucking disgusting.

  Reluctantly, Milo gave a sharp nod of understanding. I stepped back, carefully wiping the knife on his jacket before returning it to its sheath. His suit was already ruined—no sense in trashing mine as well. My eyes flicked over to Miri. She looked as if she just woke up, no makeup, dressed in teeny tiny sleep shorts and a matching tank, her fiery hair piled on her head, and her mouth hanging open in shock. I met frightened green eyes and tipped my chin to let her know everything was okay. There was still work to be done, so I spun on my heel, told one of them to call someone to clean up the mess, and beckoned the rest of my men to follow me to the office.

  As much as I’d have loved to throw Miri over my shoulder, take her to bed, and bury myself between her thighs all night long, I had a war to plan.

  * * *

  Fuck, I was tired.

  Two of my men were dead—a clear signal of my rival’s intent to take me out—I had another fucking fight with Milo when we needed more than ever to work together to demolish our enemy, and I was frustrated from not getting a single moment with Miri in over a week, alone or otherwise.

  When I passed the closed door of her room, I paused. She’d looked devastated earlier when she saw me lose my shit in the foyer. I winced at the thought of Miri seeing me like that, completely out of control, but she looked as if she understood. It was a camaraderie of sorts. Miri knew what it meant to be out of control. She knew pain.

  It went against my nature to seek comfort from another person. Influenced by years of being on my own, I’m sure. Yet I wanted it, badly. Moving as quietly as possible, I slipped into her room and undressed. Miri was lying on her side, her back to the door. The sweet scent of her skin filled the room and drew me in like a moth to a flame. I couldn’t leave now if I wanted to.

  I didn’t want to.

  I should have gone to my own room, slept in my own bed, and left Miri alone so she wouldn’t get caught up in my shit any more than she already was. But I was too selfish, in too deep. I needed her like I needed air to breathe. I slid between the cool sheets and pressed my body to Miri’s back, letting her warmth seep into my cold skin and icy heart. She made a small sound, a contented little moan, and I knew, as I wrapped my arms around her waist and curled around her small body, I knew I was in love with this girl. The one who’d stumbled into my life and transformed it forever.

  As my eyelids grew heavy, sleep pulling me under, my subconscious reminded me that I would likely have to make a choice soon. Miri or my job. I refused to trap her in this life when she deserved so much more. But I was certain I didn’t have the strength to make the right decision. I was selfish. Greedy. Hungry for more.

  Tomorrow. I would worry about it tomorrow. Living for the moment, I buried my nose in Miri’s hair and breathed in her scent, allowing dreams of a future I would never have to fill my mind as I drifted off.

  Miri

&
nbsp; The skin around my eyes was puffy and heavy as I blinked back the morning light streaming into the room. My lids were so swollen, I could hardly see through the thin slits. I began to roll over to cover my head with the pillow when I remembered last night. Jag and Milo, fighting—the snarls and curses I heard them shout at each other. Milo staring with those terrifying eyes as if he wanted to kill me with his bare hands. Going to bed and crying myself to sleep with the knowledge that a real relationship with Jag would never be possible. My throat constricted and my eyes burned. I couldn’t cry. I wouldn’t cry. I mean, my God, it just wasn’t possible to have any more tears after shedding so many last night.

  A soft snuffle made me bolt upright in fear. I glanced over and blinked multiple times to be certain of what I saw. To my surprise, Jag was laying next to me in the bed, sprawled on his back, long arms outstretched. His gorgeous face was slack with sleep, and I frowned at the large purple bruise discoloring one cheek.

  He came to me last night?

  I didn’t remember Jag entering the room, let alone climbing into my bed. Jesus, I must have been out cold. For as long as I’d been at Jag’s house, this was the first time we’d shared a bed for anything other than sex or crashing afterward. My heart was heavy with emotion. I longed to etch this moment into my brain so I could recall it years from now when Jag was a mere blip on the radar of my life.

  Biting my lip, I stared at the gorgeous man, studying every single detail. Just as I did the first time I saw him sleep, I noticed that without the constant demands of his job, Jag looked much, much younger than the gruff boss I saw every day. His tense, always on the defensive attitude was gone, replaced by a relaxed, beautiful and haunted man. Dark stubble grew overnight to cover his angled cheeks and chin, lending a rugged edge to his classically handsome good looks.

  My eyes scrutinized the intricate tattoo on the skin of his left pectoral muscle. The dark, blood red rose was beautifully shaded. A few deep green leaves grew from a thorn-covered stem, and a single drop of blood hung ominously from the tip of one of the thorns. I’d never really looked at the tattoo before. When Jag wasn’t wearing T-shirts, he wore crisp, long-sleeved button-downs, neither of which displayed his art. Every time I saw Jag shirtless, we had been lost in each other, the unquenchable fire burning between us. This was the first time I had a chance to study the design.

  Needing to touch him, I gently traced the curved line of the stem with a fingertip.

  Jag’s hand darted out from his side, snatching my own in a painfully tight grip.

  “Ow!” I fought to pull from his crushing hold.

  “Miri?” When Jag realized what he was doing, a frown tugged at his mouth and he released my hand. Jag sat and rubbed his hands down his cheeks, the scrape of fingers across his stubble practically begging me to lean in and swipe my tongue across the rough surface. “I’m sorry, Miri. I was sleeping, I think. I don’t usually… I mean… I never sleep with anyone so I’m not used to…” Jag’s hands dropped to his lap and he sagged against the headboard. “Are you okay?” Tired blue eyes met mine. The dark circles beneath underlined the extent of his exhaustion.

  “I’m fine. I didn’t mean to startle you.” I glanced away, unsure what to say about last night’s vicious and frightening display. Or about finding him in my bed this morning. In the end, I decided on honesty. “Why are you here, Jag?”

  His sigh was long and weary, one of a man tired of fighting. “I don’t know, Miri. I just wanted to feel normal for one minute of my life.” He twisted his head to trap me with those mesmerizing eyes. “And I missed you.”

  My heart did a flip and I sucked in a loud breath. “I missed you too.”

  With a small smile, the big bad drug lord did something I never, ever thought I’d see. Jag lifted his arm—an invite for me to curl up into the space next to him—for us to cuddle. I didn’t have to think twice to take him up on the offer and scrambled to close the distance. Once I was settled at his side, Jag wrapped his strong arm around me, holding me close. My eyes closed when he pressed a soft kiss to the top of my head.

  “I got a job.” I traced the ridges of his taut stomach.

  “Congratulations.” The smile was evident in his voice even though I couldn’t see it.

  “Thanks. I start Monday.”

  “Motorcycles?”

  “Yes. I can’t wait to work again.” I melted into Jag’s side, basking in his praise and the rare comfort offered in this peaceful moment. No other men watching, no shouting, no one bothering Jag for his time, no ugly looks shot my way—it was both refreshing and relaxing and… normal, just like Jag said he wanted.

  “I’m happy for you, doll. Actually… I’ve been fixin’ to make a career change myself.”

  What?

  As comfortable as I was encased in his arms, I leaned back so I could see his face. “Are you serious?”

  Jag’s mouth curved into a lopsided grin and my heart skipped a beat. “Yeah, I am, doll. I never meant to do this for so long. It was never my plan.” Those beautiful lips pulled down at the corners.

  “But you kept doing it.”

  He nodded. “I did. Once I…” Jag swallowed, his throat rippling before he continued. “…took over all this.” He gestured randomly with a sweep of his arm to indicate everything around us. “I had nothin’ else. Nowhere to go, no other options. This is all I knew.”

  Jag shrugged, an attempt to act casual, but after these last couple of months, I knew him better than that. The truth in his eyes betrayed him, hurt flashing behind the fierce blue. I desperately wanted to ask what Jag meant by no options, but didn’t want to ruin the moment or cause the normally tight-lipped man to shut down.

  “What would you do if you quit?”

  Jag dropped his gaze and took one of my hands, threading our fingers together. The butterflies in my stomach fluttered in delight. “I have a lot of money, Miri. I might could take a few years off, learn a trade, figure something out. Maybe just retire and do nothing for a while. Buy a tiny cottage and live on a random beach somewhere. Rock on the back porch and watch the sun rise.” His eyes returned to mine, hesitant. “Maybe you would consider keepin’ me company?”

  My breath left my lungs in a rush. I was so stunned I lost the ability to speak.

  “Miri?” Jag’s brow wrinkled and his cheeks flushed pink.

  Oh my god! Boss is blushing! Answer the man, Miri.

  “I-I would love that.”

  Jag’s frown turned to shock before spreading into a wide grin. “You would really go with me? Leave Austin and start over again?”

  I smiled back. “Yes. I have nothing left here.”

  Suddenly, I was on my back, two hundred plus pounds of sexy man on top of me, kissing me senseless. Jag pulled back, still grinning as he looked down at me. He laughed and the true happiness in the very rare sound sealed the deal.

  Where I had previously been flirting with the edge of danger by getting involved with Jag, I was now falling off the cliff, unable to stop the rapid descent. When I hit the bottom, instead of being caught in the comfort of my feelings for Jag, reality smacked me upside the head.

  I was in love with this intriguing, sometimes violent, overprotective man, but I couldn’t go with him.

  As Jag was busy covering my face and neck with kisses, icy numbness seeped under my skin. I pushed at his chest, but Jag was too heavy and kept kissing me.

  “Jag.” He ignored me and continued his sensual assault. “Jag!”

  A heavy-lidded, sleep-mussed head peeked up from where he was nuzzling my neck.

  “I can’t leave Austin. Not… not without Cat.”

  Jag stared, his face suddenly serious. The playful, happy young man vanished and the fierce drug lord returned in the blink of an eye.

  “Who’s Cat?”

  14

  Boss

  “Milo, I want you to head up the situation with Los Guerreros while I take care of something.”

  Milo stared at me from the other side of my desk
as if I’d just admitted to having a second cock hidden in my pants. He rubbed his chin between thick fingers. My eyes slid to the small cut on his cheek where I’d nicked him with my blade last night. It was already healing, two Steri-Strips stuck over a scab that had formed on the wound.

  “Boss, what could possibly be more important than preparing for a war?”

  While I understood Milo’s concern, especially at a time when things were unstable and could go very bad, very fast, what I did or didn’t do was my own business. As much as I wanted to shut him up permanently for once again questioning my orders, I needed Milo now more than ever if I wanted to stop Los Guerreros from taking over Austin.

  “Nothing is more important than preparing for a war, my friend. That’s why I’ve assigned you to be in charge of it. You’re the best I have. I’m confident you can keep everything under control.” Feeding Milo’s massive ego was always the best way to shut him up and get him to follow commands.

  As expected, this instance was no different. He flashed his gold tooth and grinned, dark eyes glinting with his thirst for blood, crazy fucker.

  “Damn right I’m the fucking best.”

  And he is.

  I nodded. “I’m giving you full control over George and the men under him. Dealers are to keep eyes and ears on the streets, but they are not to do any outright surveillance. Those idiots aren’t trained or equipped to handle a confrontation with El Cuchillo’s men.”

  Only the higher echelons of my organization knew how to deal with enemies. Petty street dealers had one function: move product. That was it. They were not the brains by any means. It would only take one mouthy punk to turn a tense situation into an all-out war.

  Milo stretched, groaning as his spine cracked. “I’ll run everything out of the main warehouse if that’s okay, Boss.”

  “Perfect. I want someone watching those bastards at all times. I’ve taken care of monitoring Brick. A contact in Houston is observing his movements for us. We’ll have several hours’ notice if he’s coming our way.” I stood up and circled the desk, extending a hand to my lieutenant. We’d butted heads a lot lately, but I needed to make sure Milo was committed to stopping El Cuchillo.