Sex Junkie (Cowboy Addiction 1)

“So basically he wasn’t your boyfriend. He was your drug dealer. You swapped favors.” Grant shook his head. His Adam’s apple twitched as he swallowed. “What a sick motherfucker.”

She shrugged. “I guess you’re right. He wasn’t compassionate, loving, or kind. We didn’t go out. He never wanted me to walk beside him if we left the building together, and he never bought me anything, other than drugs. No, I guess he wasn’t my boyfriend.”

“Morgan, this is a battle you’ll always have,” Grant said. “You can rely on us for now, but you’ll always have the cravings. You just have to learn to be stronger than the temptation to use again.”

“I know. A year or so ago, I went to a few meetings in Memphis. I didn’t want to stay on drugs. I just couldn’t get off them.”

“You may not see it now, but when Kilo kicked you out, it was the best thing that could’ve happened to you,” Blake said.

“I realize that, too,” she agreed. “If he hadn’t asked me to leave, I would’ve stayed right there until I either overdosed or the police busted Kilo.”

“Do you want to talk about anything that happened with Kilo?” Grant asked.

“No,” she replied. A second later, she changed her mind. “Yes.”

“He beat you, didn’t he?” Grant asked.

“Yes. Kilo was very violent.”

Grant’s eyes turned as cold as ice. He looked away from the bed and clenched his fists. “Then I guess it’s time for me to give Mr. Kilo a call. There are a few things I’d like to say to him.”

“No, you can’t.”

“Yes I can, and I will. Where’s your phone?”

“You don’t understand,” Morgan said, grasping at a lost cause. “If you contact him, the only thing you’ll do is provoke him.”

“He should worry about agitating me,” Grant said, steadfast in his pursuit for her cell. “Damn it, Morgan. Where’s your purse?”

She swallowed hard. Her eyes darted to a nearby chair piled high with her clothing.

“Here?” he asked, tossing aside panties, bras, jeans, and shirts. When Grant reached the bottom of her dirty laundry, stark determination marked his face as he fished her phone out of her purse. “From now on, when I ask you a question, you provide an answer or face the punishment.”

“If you call him, he will kill me.”

“Bullshit!” Grant screamed, rushing the bed. Morgan twisted against the ties binding her. He was in her face, pointing his finger within an inch of her nose. She stilled against his fury, understanding he wouldn’t listen now. His anger drove him. Tightly drawn cords pulsed in his neck. “You listen to me, woman, and you listen well.

“You are a precious human being. Regardless of the poor choices you’ve made, Blake and I still love you. That said, whether we loved you or not, you’re our best friends’ sister. You’re a woman. No one has the right to abuse you.”

Morgan looked at her hands. “Untie me.”

“No.”

“Then what makes you any different than Kilo?”

“You know the answer to that,” Grant retorted, backing away. “I love you and would never hurt you.”

“Kilo may have loved me, too.”

“Like hell he did!” Blake interjected. “Love isn’t a serum, Morgan. It isn’t the juice for a junkie, and you damn well realize I’m telling you the straight of things.”

“At one time, Kilo loved me.” Morgan was holding on by a thread. Grant couldn’t call Kilo. If Grant minded his own business, maybe someday she and Kilo could reconcile long enough to make a few deals when absolutely necessary.

“You’re afraid of losing Kilo altogether. If you don’t have him, where will you go when the cravings intensify? Hmm? When you need just a small fix to tide you over, what will you do?” Grant taunted her.

Oh God, she was slipping again and Grant apparently recognized her inevitable fall. The angst of desiring her drug all over again sent her reeling. “I

want to leave. Now!”