by Eva Leon
“What are you doing?”
“I need a fix,” I said. “I think Stanislav was drugging me with heroin. I need some. I’m going through withdrawals.”
“You’ll feel better if you eat, Finn.”
“No, I won’t,” I whispered. “I can’t even hold down water. I need a fix. Please. I’ll do anything.”
“You try to eat, and I’ll see about getting you something to take the edge off. I won’t have you doing heroin, though. I don’t deal with junkies.”
I thought about it for a moment. Maybe if I took a few bites, he’d get me some Oxy, or perhaps he knew a doctor who could get methadone. Oxy would be better. I could crush it up and OD. If I ate, it would make it hard. Giving my body food would make me stronger. If I got my strength back, I might start to fantasize about escape again. I’d moved past those thoughts months ago, and mentally, I needed to stay there.
“I can’t eat,” I said and began unconsciously scratching at my arms again.
“Stop that. You’re going to ruin your beautiful skin. I don’t want to have to tie you up.”
I dropped my hands to my sides. “Please. Do you have some Oxy or anything? I’ll do anything.”
“You’ll eat then?”
“No. I can’t.”
“Then I can’t either,” he said and closed the door.
I screamed and collapsed to the floor. My entire body was wracked with sobs. I’d worked so hard to never feel again. Now, I couldn’t stop.
There was only one day I could remember that felt this bad. As I lay down and pressed my cheek to the cold floor, the memories came flooding back.
It had been years since I’d thought about the day my father sold me, but just like that, it was as if my stupid, drug-addicted brain was right back there in his living room again.
I should have known something was up. The day before, he’d started being really nice to me, and for a week before that, he hadn’t hit me with his belt one time. For the first time that I could remember, I’d had no bruises.
The day before my sale, my father had taken me clothes shopping. He said that I’d been such a good Omega, he wanted to get me a gift. He’d never gotten me a gift in my life, but I was so excited, so starved for affection.
Back then, I wasn’t dead inside yet. I’d been trying so hard to make him happy since momma had gone. I still believed that if I just behaved well enough, he would stop being so angry with me. If I could just be the son he wanted instead of an Omega he didn’t understand.
So, when he started smiling and stopped beating me, I thought I’d finally done it. I was so stupid. He just wanted me to look good for the buyer.
The man who showed up to make the deal wasn’t supposed to touch me. My father was getting a premium because I was technically a virgin.
And I was still technically a virgin when the man delivered me to the brothel. That didn’t mean he didn’t take me into the bathroom and make me get on my knees.
My father sold me for three hundred dollars’ worth of heroin. Not only was he a violent drug addict with a penchant for belt beatings, but he was also stupid. He could have gotten so much more money for me, but I guess that meant Tamara got a good deal. She made a tidy profit pimping me out, and I know she made a ton on the sale of my virginity.
The man who purchased me for Tamara grabbed me by the arm and dragged me out of my father’s house. I didn’t know what was happening at first, so I tried to fight back.
“I’m sorry,” my father had apologized. “Finn, stop. You’re going to make the man have to hurt you.”
“Man, do I gotta drug this bitch?” the guy had asked and reached into his pocket.
It was then that I understood. My father hadn’t just sold the guy a blow job like he’d done so many times before. He’d sold me.
Chapter Nine
Damon
I’d had some time for my temper to cool, and I hadn’t heard Finn for a while. I figured he’d worn himself out. Perhaps exhaustion would make him more open to my suggestions.
I went down to the basement and pressed my thumb against the pad to open the bathroom door. When I unlocked it, I’d expected to see him sitting there on the commode or perhaps the floor.
What I didn’t expect was to see the Omega lying on the bathroom floor with his skin ashen and his eyes rolled up into the back of his head. I rushed to Finn’s side and knelt to feel for a pulse. With one hand pressed against the cold tile floor to balance me, I used two fingers to push against his smooth flesh where I thought his pulse would be.
He was alive, but the Omega’s pulse was so weak that it took a minute to find. I’d had to move my fingers to several spots on his neck and under his ear before I located it. “Finn,” I gripped his shoulders and shook him as hard as I could. “Finn, wake up. Come on. Wake up.”
I scanned the room for what he’d taken. I’d convinced myself that I’d either accidentally left something in the room he could use to kill himself, or his begging for drugs had all been an act, and Finn had smuggled something in. I found nothing.
My next move was to call Doctor Saw. That’s what the MC called him. He was our private doctor. Doc Saw handled our emergencies when a trip to the hospital would raise too many questions.
“Yes,” he said when he answered the phone.
“Doc, this is Damon. I’m with the Iron Souls—” I started, but he cut me off.
“I know who you are. Don’t say anymore. Just tell me where to meet you.”
“I’m at home.”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” he said and hung up.
I looked down at Finn and wondered if he would make it ten minutes. I didn’t know much about CPR, but I thought I’d remembered hearing someone say not to do it if the person was still breathing or there was a pulse.
That thought pissed me off. I was helpless until Doc Saw got there.
“Finn,” I said and shook him again.
When he didn’t respond, I stood up and started pacing. I balled my hands into fists and bit my knuckles. I hoped the pain would center me.
I needed to go upstairs and wait for the doc, but I didn’t want to leave the Omega alone on the bathroom floor. So I picked him up and carried Finn upstairs to my lounge.
After putting him down on the red leather sofa that sat in front of my fireplace, I found the remote and switched it on. By that time, Finn had begun to shiver. Normally, I’d ask Leena for blankets, but she was already gone for the day.
I tried to think of where they would be. There was a big closet in the laundry room, so I looked there. Fortunately, Leena kept a stash of extra towels, sheets, and blankets there. I grabbed a few blankets and a spare pillow.
Out in the living room, Finn had curled up into the fetal position on the sofa. He’d curled around himself and begun to take little gulping breaths. I covered him with the blankets, but I couldn’t get the Omega to uncurl. After trying—and failing—to put the pillow under his head, I ended up just setting it above him on the sofa.
“Come on, Doc,” I whispered.
Right on cue, the security alert let me know there was someone at the gate. I rushed to the monitor and punched in the code to allow the doc in. I immediately recognized his vehicle. The black Mercedes rolled up my driveway, and I watched as he got out of the car and hurried up the sidewalk.
“What’s going on?” Doc Saw asked as I closed the front door behind him. “You look fine and healthy.”
“You’re not here to patch up gunshot wounds this time, Doc. I’ve got an Omega over there on the sofa that could use your help.”
I pointed at Finn, and the doctor walked over to where he was still curled up in a ball. He grabbed the blankets covering his frail body and yanked them down.
Doc Saw pulled the stethoscope from around his neck and checked Finn’s pulse and then listened to his heart and lungs. I watched as he pulled each of the Omega’s eyelids up and flashed a light over his eyes. When he was done with that, he drew a digital thermometer ou
t of his bag and ran the sensor over Finn’s forehead.
“Well, I don’t believe he’s sick. I’m going to say it’s drug withdrawals. Any ideas what he was on?”
“No. I believe he said something about heroin, but because of where he came from, there’s no way to know if that’s accurate. It could be heroin or one of many other things.”
“Well, we’ve got some options here. Your first is to get him to a hospital, but I’m guessing if you wanted to do that, you wouldn’t have called me. You can let me run some blood tests. I have a private lab that can get results within hours. I prize them for their discretion, should you choose to take that route. Or you can give him something for the withdrawals.”
“How confident are you that this is drug withdrawal and nothing more?” I asked.
“I’d bet my practice on it,” he said, with an ironic chuckle. “You said he was taking heroin. This is almost a textbook case of severe heroin withdrawal. You wouldn’t happen to know how much he was taking or for how long?”
“He’d only been at his former… residence for a few weeks, as far as I know.”
“Who owned him before you?” Doc Saw asked, matter-of-factly. I just looked at him slack-jawed for a moment. That cat was way out of the bag. “Don’t look so dumbstruck. Think about what I do for a living. It’s not like this is my first. So, who owned the Omega before you?”
“I’m not sure…”
“Look, Damon. I do what I do and don’t end up dead because I don’t run my mouth. I did hear that Slavie’s place got hit a few hours ago and one of his Omegas was stolen. I’m not going to tell him you’ve got him if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m just trying to figure out if this Omega is a long-term drug abuser, or if he got addicted to heroin because that’s what Stanislav gives the Omegas he considers trash. He doesn’t want to waste the money on clean shit like Oxy if he thinks he’s going to have to kill them.”
I nodded my head yes.
“Okay, then. He’s probably not a long-term user, but it doesn’t take long to get hooked on that shit. Normally, withdrawals from heroin wouldn’t be this bad for a short-term abuser, but I’m guessing it’s made worse by the malnutrition. He might also have an underlying viral illness.”
“Like AIDS?” I felt my stomach clench.
“No, nothing like that, Damon. Stanislav has his Omegas tested before he puts them up for sale. I mean like a cold that’s affecting him more because of the starvation and dehydration.”
“What do we do?”
“Well, you can’t let him go through withdrawals cold turkey when his body is this weak. I’m assuming you don’t want him to continue being a heroin addict, so I’ll give you a prescription for something to help keep him alive. It’s known as medical detox. I can also hook him up to some IV nutrition and fluids. You’ll just pull the IV out and throw it away when the bags are empty. What do you think?”
I didn’t know what to think. I wanted Finn off drugs, and it seemed counterintuitive to keep giving him more drugs. But the doc said he might die without them. I was a hundred percent on board with giving the Omega the IVs. I’d prefer he ate on his own, but if he wouldn’t, then the doc could fix him up until he had his strength back. Maybe then he’d remember who he was and be a little more agreeable.
The only decision was whether to do the medical detox. “Sure. Do it all. I don’t want him to die.”
The doc set to work putting in the IV and hooking up the bags of nutrients and fluids. When he tried to put the needle in, Finn attempted to fight back, but he was too weak to resist him.
“Better double-tape that,” I suggested.
“Yeah, he’s a fighter for sure. That’s good.”
The doctor left a bottle of pills for Finn and instructions on how to use them. He also showed me, as best he could, how to pull the IV out when the bags were empty. It didn’t look that difficult.
When he was gone, I sat on the floor next to Finn and watched him sleep. The first dose of the drugs to help with the withdrawals had gone directly into his IV. It had immediately helped him relax, and the Omega stopped fighting the IV. He also uncurled from the fetal position, and I was able to put a pillow under his head before I covered Finn’s body with the blankets again.
He looked angelic while he slept. His face was relaxed, and you almost couldn’t tell how pale and gaunt he’d become. I imagined that while Finn was out cold like that, the weight of his world disappeared.
I didn’t know why I cared about that or why I wanted him so badly. He was a danger to me now that someone else knew I had him. Leena was loyal, but would Doc Saw really keep my secret? I had no idea what I was going to do with Finn. I believed the doc when he said the Omega was a fighter. That meant he’d be hard to contain once he got his spirit back. I liked that idea. I wanted to break him, so I figured I’d keep him for the time being.
He’d be such a sweet toy once he learned to behave. I swept a lock of his golden hair away from his face, and I could swear a bit of a smile played across the Omega’s lips.
“That’s my good boy,” I whispered and kissed his temple.
Chapter Ten
Finn
That feeling of panic you get when you wake up in a strange place, it never goes away, no matter how many unfamiliar places you wake up in. Terror gripped me as my eyes fluttered open and I took in the sensation of a new mattress underneath me.
No, not a mattress. At least, it wasn’t just a mattress. I could feel silky sheets and smell clean linens. The pillow under my head was perfectly molded to me, and for the first time in years, I woke up without a crick in my neck. I was in a bed. A real bed. A really nice bed.
The top half of my body shot straight up like I was a hinge. I felt around the bed for whoever I shared the space with, but I was alone. It was very dark.
Those two things seemed incongruous. I was alone in a place so pitch-black that it could be a dungeon, but I was in a nice bed too.
That’s when it came back to me. I’d seen a nice bed in the basement room of the man who’d taken me from Stanislav. I racked my brain trying to remember if I’d seen a light switch.
I swung my legs off the side of the bed, and it occurred to me that I wasn’t tied or chained up. He’d just put me in a bed to sleep. Sure, I was probably locked in his basement, but it wasn’t a cage. The room was more like a fancy hotel suite.
Straight out from the bed was the door that led upstairs. I felt around the wall for a light switch and found it after a minute or so of running my hands around the doorframe.
The light came on. I really was alone. I tried the door, but as I’d suspected, it was locked. There weren’t any windows either. Not even one of those narrow ones at ground level that some basements had.
As the sleepiness wore off, I became acutely aware that, while my neck didn’t ache, the rest of my body felt like I’d been hit by a truck. My mouth was dry and tasted like sand. I remembered that I’d started going through withdrawals from heroin the last time I was awake. While what I was feeling that morning wasn’t as terrible, it was still pretty fucking horrible, and I knew it would get worse.
He must have given me some kind of fix, but it was wearing off. I needed the man to come downstairs and give me more. I’d have to pound on the basement door to get his attention, but first I needed to get that taste out of my mouth.
I made my way to the bathroom he’d locked me in the night before. The door was open, so I went in and looked in the top drawer in the vanity. Sure enough, there was a brand-new toothbrush and a tube of minty fresh toothpaste. It was good stuff, too. He’d given me an expensive name-brand toothbrush and toothpaste. I’d only ever had shit from the dollar store before.
While I couldn’t say that brushing my teeth was pleasurable, having a clean mouth was nice. I had to wonder why he’d spent his money on name-brand stuff, though. Why would he care that much?
In the cabinet behind the fake mirror, I found face wash and moisturizer that I’d once seen in
a magazine. Was it really for me? I took the bottles out and turned them over in my hands. For a moment, I thought maybe it was a trick. Perhaps I was supposed to use them, and then he’d beat me with the belt for stealing. But that didn’t make sense.
Still, I washed my face and then applied some of the moisture cream. It was like nothing I’d ever felt before. I wanted to put it all over me, but it was such a small jar. So I opened the cabinet again and looked. Sure enough, there was a tube of the same brand of body cream.
Once I’d covered myself in it, I took a few deep breaths. Despite the withdrawals, I felt better than I had in…
Weeks…?
Months…?
Years…?
Who knew.
I put everything back and stared at my reflection in the mirror. The cream gave my skin a bit of a glow, and I could almost imagine what I’d look like healthy again.
“That’s stupid,” I hissed at myself.
The fancy things he’d bought for me meant nothing. He had a ton of money from the look at his house I got before he locked me in the basement. I’m sure the stuff he’d bought for me was a drop in the bucket for him, moneywise. He’d offered to buy me from Stanislav, so he had to have lots of cash. Or perhaps he’d stolen all that shit, too.
Either way, it had to be a trap. And there I was, falling into it. It was just like when I was a stupid thirteen-year-old boy falling for my father buying me new clothes. Eight years of living this life and I’d learned nothing.
What I needed more than fancy soap and body cream was a fix. I could now understand why Link had behaved so well for his Oxy. The longer I went without the drugs I’d been forced to become addicted to, the more my skin itched and my muscles ached.
I went out to the bedroom and looked in the dresser. There, I found gray cotton panties. I put them on and then moved down to a lower drawer. The only other things in them were t-shirts, shorts, and sweatpants. I fished a shirt and pair of drawstring warm-up pants out of the drawer.
Back at the door, I pounded on the solid wood and yelled. I wondered if he could even hear me. Until I’d been taken to Stanislav’s place, I’d never seen solid wood doors. Every other place I lived had shitty fiberboard doors. You could hear everything through them, and one punch turned them to garbage.