Junkie (Broken Doll 1)
Page 12
“Yeah, Boss. Got it.” I heard the angry man’s heavy footfalls fade then come to an abrupt stop. “You sure you don’t want me here when you deal with—”
“Goddammit, Milo. Get the fuck out of here before you regret it and I have to get all fucking dirty, which you know irritates the fuck out of me.” Boss snarled at the other man.
His angry threat should have frightened me, especially when combined with Boss’s clear intent on keeping me locked up like a prisoner—and now the sound was coming from right outside the bedroom door. But instead of being alarmed, the smooth sound of his voice sent another chill across my skin. This time, it was the good kind of chill, the kind that pulled a shudder from deep down while simultaneously heating my insides. What, exactly, did that say about me?
Who gets turned on by threats of violence and unlawful imprisonment at the hands of a criminal who treats me as something less than human?
“Okay, Boss.” Boots thumped down the hall and I heard a door open and close.
The only warning I had was the click of a lock before the knob turned. I shut my eyes, bracing myself to come face-to-face with Boss for the first time since that humiliating shower, subsequent captivity, and multiple threats on my life. Despite the oppressive fear and my irrational attraction to the man, I forced my body to remain unmoving on the chair while waiting to find out my fate.
The door swung open, and my eyes opened, immediately landing on him. Boss had yet to notice me, so I took a moment to really study the man. His strong, commanding presence was undeniable, the sharp angles of his profile intimidating. Faced with him again, I remembered how tall, how large Boss was. At least a few inches over six feet, maybe more.
I felt more than saw his gaze land on me. My skin pricked and my stomach twisted with nerves.
“Come with me.” He turned and left, confident I would follow. And I did.
We descended a grand staircase to a marble foyer. Barefoot, I hurried down a wide hall lined with expensive artwork and decorations, struggling to keep up with Boss’s long strides. The hall ended in the enormous kitchen.
Shaking, I stood and fidgeted, waiting.
Boss was fiddling with something on the table, his back to me. It gave me a perfect view of the broad set of his shoulders, muscles bulging under a snug fitting, pressed white dress shirt that probably cost more than every singl
e one of my paychecks from last year combined.
My eyes trailed down the flexing muscles in his back to his tapered waist, lingering on the way his undoubtedly expensive, navy blue dress pants hugged his tight round ass. Despite the danger I was in, the inherent fear the man brought out in others, I couldn’t tear my gaze away from his perfect body, lean with large, well-defined muscles. Muscles I viewed up-close and personal while wet and slick.
“See something you like?”
I blinked and found Boss staring at me with his piercing blue eyes, that damn crooked smirk on his handsome face. My skin blazed from being caught ogling the man’s ass in his own kitchen.
“I wasn’t sure what you wanted me to do or… if… if I should go.” I pretended to forget that Boss said leaving wasn’t an option and kept my eyes on the ground, focused on my bare feet to lessen the weight of his heavy stare. “I don’t have a car… or, or money…” The weight of humiliation pressed down on me. God, I looked so stupid, standing in this immense palace, in front of this powerful man, wearing ill-fitting clothes with track marks up my arms. I was broke, hooked on H, intruding on his home, and now standing in his kitchen asking for… for what?
I don’t have a clue what I’m asking for.
“Sit, Miri.” Boss wrapped his big hands around a kitchen chair and pulled it out, angling it in my direction. I swallowed down the lump in my throat, unable to move or even breathe. My feet were glued to the floor. Boss reached out and put one of those warm, rough hands around my wrist, easily encircling it with room to spare, and tugged me forward. “Sit down. If you behave, this time, I won’t tie you up.”
His tone was gravelly and I knew for a fact he wasn’t joking about tying me up. To be honest, Boss had a hint of amusement in his voice that implied he would enjoy it very much if I flat-out disobeyed.
Screw that. No way was I giving him the satisfaction.
When I sat, I took a chance and glanced at him, unsure what I would find on the man’s face, especially after last night. Would there be anger, annoyance, pity, disgust? Shockingly, there was none of the above. Boss was… smiling?
He turned to lean a hip on the table, his face deceptively patient and kind looking. The skin around his beautiful eyes crinkled with mirth and his lips pressed together as if holding back a grin. Inexplicably, I felt my own lips tug up in response to the gorgeous and unexpected sight.
This man just keeps on surprising me.
Then my eyes dropped to the contents laid out on the table and my hesitant smile fell. On a long exhale, a single word escaped. “Oh.”
Spread across the polished wood surface of the table was the same kit from yesterday—syringe, tiny packet of white powder, lighter, spoon, and tourniquet. My eyes flicked back and forth between the kit and the intensity of Boss’s gaze staring down at me.
I squirmed in the chair. “I-I don’t understand. You’re… you’re what? Going to keep giving me drugs?” At this point, I was way past being frightened and had gone straight to completely confused. I nervously twirled a piece of hair around a finger while chewing on my bottom lip, unable to figure out what this man expected in return for the H. “W-why? Why would you do this? I’m no one. Nothing. You don’t even know me.”
What does he want? Nothing comes without strings attached. Nothing.
The sad look in his eyes surprised me. The same time Boss appeared to show a smidge of compassion, his mouth and jaw tightened.
“You’re not nothing,” he hissed, so vehemently I flinched. Boss closed his eyes and breathed deep, as if he needed a moment to hold himself back from reaching out and strangling me. Those brilliant blues opened again, trapping me with their intensity. “Besides, you can’t stop cold turkey, doll. You’ll end up incredibly sick.” His gaze bore down on me as he crossed his arms over his broad chest, pulling his shirt taut across his wide shoulders. “I’m afraid you’re not leaving the property until I find out how you got here and what your intentions are. It’s not every day someone has the audacity to show up at my house…” He put his hands on the arms of the chair, trapping me, his body surrounding me, and leaned down, close enough to smell his aftershave combined with that fragrant green body wash. Close enough for me to pick out every single individual shade of blue in his irises. “It’s even more rare for them to live to tell about it. That’s what worries me, doll. I can’t have you running to the police with any information now, can I?”