Junkie (Broken Doll 1)

“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.”