Junkie (Broken Doll 1)

I reached out with an arm and snatched my jeans off the floor. I couldn’t have this conversation naked. Furious, I shoved my feet in the legs and arched my back to pull them over my hips. Miri grabbed her own clothes and quickly got dressed. My pulse kicked up a notch and my palms were suddenly sweaty. I wanted some goddamn answers.

“You don’t need me. I saw her, Jag.” Miri was sad… defeated. My heart broke at the sight of her eyes shining with tears.

“What?” I ran a hand through my hair and stared at her. “Who? What are you talking about?”

Miri grimaced and leapt to her feet. “That, that blonde… whore! I saw her, Jag. If you’re calling her to come fuck you then you don’t need me around! If that’s how it is, I don’t want to be around.”

I scrambled to my feet. “Karina? You left because of Karina?”

“So what? You think it’s not a big deal? I’m supposed to be okay with you romancing me and talking about the future while fucking her on the side?”

My mouth fell open. “I’m not fucking her on the side. I have no idea why she was at my house.”

Miri snorted. “I heard her say why, Jag. You called her for a ‘fuck.’” Miri made little quotes with her fingers around the word fuck.

“I did not call her for a fuck.” Miri’s eyes flashed with rage. I was pissed, but wanted to tell her the truth. “Yes, I used to fuck her. Used to. And never once has she ever been to my house. I came out of my office and found her in my kitchen.” I held Miri’s gaze, begging her to understand. “I told her to get the fuck out.”

“You didn’t call her?” She didn’t look convinced.

“No, baby.” I took a step toward Miri. “I wouldn’t do that. Please. You mean too much to me. I can’t imagine throwing everything away for a quick fuck with someone who means nothing.”

“I-I don’t know.” Miri bit her lip. She was obviously unsure if she should believe me.

Fuck this shit. I was beyond done with this entire thing.

“Miri, you are mine. You belong with me. We can discuss this later, but we have to go. It’s not safe here.” I reached for her hand. “We’ll talk about this at the house.”

Miri balked. “I need time.”

Fear knotted in my gut—fear I might lose Miri for good, fear for her safety with a war brewing. It boiled over into something more manageable, something I could use and understand.

Anger.

“Son of a bitch, Miri. I’m not standing here and discussing this crap while there are men out there that want me dead. No more arguments. You’re coming with me.” She squealed when I grabbed her by the thighs and threw her over my shoulder, catching the strap of her bag with my other hand as I strode for the door.

“Put me down!”

“When we get back to the house you can be as pissed as you want, but I’m done with this bullshit, Miri.” I stomped down the stairs with Miri thrashing and hitting my back the entire time.

Fuck. I got to the bottom step and remembered I drove the Ducati. How would I get her to cooperate and sit on the bike?

“Goddammit.” I held her with one hand and fished my cell phone out of my back pocket with the other. While I was scrolling through for Frank’s contact, Miri screamed. Not just any scream, a bone-chilling, goose bump-inducing, primal scream.

“Wha—”

Too late, I heard the scuffle of shoes in the dirt and Miri was torn from my arms. Miri’s shouts were muffled as if someone gagged her. I turned to beat the fuck out of whoever dared to touch what was mine, dared to lay hands on my girl, and the back of my skull exploded with pain. White light flashed behind my eyes and I heard the slam of car doors before everything faded to black.

End Part One