Junkie (Broken Doll 1)

Prologue

I opened the door slowly, knowing it wouldn’t make a sound. Took care of that squeaky bitch earlier today by oiling the hinges. Moonlight spilt through the windows, casting a faint bluish glow in the room. Moving silently, which was damn hard for a big guy like me, I crossed to stand next to the bed.

Fucking junkie.

My lips pulled back, exposing my teeth. If the girl were awake, she’d probably shit herself at the sight. I’ve been known to frighten more than a few people with a single scowl. Asleep, the redhead looked harmless—skinny, hollow-cheeked, arms riddled with track marks. But I knew better. She might not be physically strong, but the pathetic girl had the power to bring down everything I worked for.

Years I waited for the opportunity to take down the former boss. Patiently watching, learning, finding his weaknesses—only someone else found them first. Just like that, I had to start from scratch. Denied my rightful place, I had to go back to the beginning and plan my rise to the top all over again. Now, I was almost there.

Then this… this thing was threatening to take it all down, just like last time.

No. I wouldn’t be denied my rightful place. Not again.

I loomed over the girl and picked up a lock of her copper hair, sifting it through my fingers. Somehow, I would turn this weakness into my biggest weapon. I just had to figure out how. Grinning, I snuck back out of the room and pulled the door behind me.

It might take a few months, but I would make it happen.

I was going to be the next boss of Austin.

1

Boss

Crack!

I had less than a second to revel in the sound of my fist connecting with the man’s jaw as it echoed throughout the dingy warehouse before the pain shot through my knuckles and up my arm. To my extreme satisfaction, his battered head snapped violently to the side before rolling to hang limp on his chest, blood, spit, and snot pouring from his nose and mouth.

Humidity in Texas was high this time of year, the air in the warehouse heavy and reeking of ozone and body odor. Sweat continuously rolled down my back and trickled between my shoulder blades to soak into the waistband of my pants.

My clothes were getting all fucked, which really pissed me off.

“Stop sniveling!”

I snatched a hunk of his greasy blond hair and wrenched his head back, ignoring his screams. I wanted this asshole to look into my eyes and know just how much fucking trouble he was in. To see firsthand what happened to those who crossed me. The man’s trembling lip and frightened eyes only served to make me angrier. Pussy. Motherfucker had no right to try to make me feel sorry for his thieving ass.

Pity was something I was quite lacking. There were some who said I didn’t even have a conscious. Or a soul.

“It’s this whore I’ve been fucking, Boss. She must have swiped some. I-I didn’t…”

Crack!

The backhanded blow landed perfectly across his cheek and his skin split open from the force. Blood gushed down his neck and into the collar of his filthy shirt.

“Don’t fucking lie to me, Mason! I know exactly what you did. Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”

I ignored the ache in my hand to crouch in front of the chair the man was tied to, resisting the urge to grimace at the sight of his bloody face and the splatter on my expensive suit. Nothing irritated me more than dirt and filth, especially on my clothes. The only thing that pissed me off more than his blood fucking up my nice clothes and tainting my skin was finding out one of my employees was stealing from me.

I grabbed his swollen chin and squeezed his cheeks until he cried out like the little bitch he was. A bead of sweat trickled down his nose. I could almost taste his fear. It was a struggle to keep my composure when I spoke. My voice came out low and menacing as it rumbled from my chest. “No one skims from me, Smith. No one.”

Disgusted by the mess the sniveling man made on my pristine summer weight wool suit, I stood, turned to leave, and motioned to an enormous blond man waiting patiently in a dark corner of the warehouse. The blond immediately came to my side, bringing with him a cloud of expensive cologne. His huge body was vibrating with excitement.

“Yeah, Boss.” The brute’s tone combined with the heated spark in his eyes confirmed what I already knew about my employee. Unlike me, my large friend couldn’t wait to get his hands dirty. I did this out of necessity. He did it out of enjoyment.

“Take care of that.” I gestured in the direction of the sobbing mess behind me while I shook out my sore hand and frowned at the blood on it. I honestly didn’t care what happened to Mason Smith at that point. All I could think about was scrubbing off that piece of shit’s blood and changing into something clean.

“Sure thing, Boss.” The blond, my top lieutenant, Milo, cracked his neck and his dark eyes lit up with a sick kind of glee. Gruesome shit was definitely my lieutenant’s thing, and it was also why Milo was my right-hand man as well as my bodyguard-slash-enforcer. The guy was sadistic to the core.

I ran a hand down my front to straighten my clothes and grimaced at the streak of blood it left behind. “I’m going home, Milo. Report to me when it’s done.”

The blond gave me a quick nod and a wide, cruel grin. Fully confident I could trust Milo to take care of the mess, I spun on my heel and stalked out of the dilapidated structure I owned on the outskirts north of Austin. Fresh air, though heavy with humidity, cleansed my offended nostrils. I inhaled deep to rid myself of the stench of blood and sweat.

“Ready to go, Boss?” My driver, Frank, who had been with me for years, held open the back door of a large sedan. It closed quietly after I ducked inside. A thick pad was laid out on the backseat along with crinkling paper lining the floorboards. As I carefully shifted across the seat, I made sure not to touch anything.

“Get me the fuck out of here, Frank.”

“Yes, Boss.”