Junkie (Broken Doll #1)

by Heather C. Leigh

  Milo accepted my hand, shaking it while pulling me into a shoulder bump. “I’ll take care of it, Boss. No worries.”

  “Keep me updated.”

  “You can count on it.” The big man winked, flashing that hideous gold tooth one last time before leaving. Something about the look in his dark, emotionless eyes unsettled me.

  Fuck.

  I slid back into my chair, my sore muscles were full of knots and bunched up tight. I hadn’t realized how tense I was with Milo around. Our fight last night was pretty bad. We didn’t usually lose control during our disagreements. Drawing blood? That was quickly becoming a regular thing, and Milo wasn’t the kind of man who let shit go so easily. I wasn’t sure I could trust him the way I used to.

  A little extra insurance couldn’t hurt. Good thing there were people who owed me. It was time to cash in on some favors.

  After making a few calls, I rubbed the back of my neck in an attempt to stop the headache that was hammering relentlessly inside my skull. My eyes ached, burning from lack of sleep, and my entire body was sore with fatigue. I stretched my shoulder, wincing at the sharp pain from Milo’s rough arm hold.

  Asshole.

  Again the urge to kill the man rolled through me and my muscles twitched to take action. I ground my teeth to tamp down the rising fury caused by my lieutenant’s inability to shut the fuck up. He was damn lucky El Cuchillo had started this shit or he’d already be a corpse somewhere in the outskirts of the city. I shook my head and refocused on work. I needed to speak with several more contacts and check in with my guy in Houston.

  A few hours later, my back and shoulder were throbbing and too distracting to continue sitting hunched over a computer. I wandered out of the office, hoping to find Miri for a little quality time. My burdens lessened with each step I took away from my work and my office, and a light, fluttery sensation took root in my chest. Maybe Miri would like to go for a ride on one of my bikes. Getting out of this oppressive environment for an hour or two would be heavenly. I was confident my men would alert me if any of El Cuchillo’s men came into our territory. So as long as I stuck to roads I knew, we would be safe. Smiling, I set out to find the fiery redhead.

  “Hey, sexy. I’ve been waiting for you.”

  My head spun around. When my gaze landed on the curvaceous blonde sitting at my kitchen table instead of the willowy redhead I fantasized about, my face twisted into a scowl and extreme annoyance nuked my good mood.

  “What the fuck are you doing here, Karina?”

  Why the hell is my dial-a-fuck at my house?

  “I was told you needed to decompress a little.” Karina stood and slithered toward me in her sky-high heels, hips shimmying and large breasts bouncing. She reached out with a long, painted fingernail and dragged it down my chest. I batted her hand away, beyond irritated.

  “I didn’t ask you to come here, Karina. You should leave.”

  “Well, I’m already here. We might as well take advantage.” The curvy blonde reached between us, grabbed my junk, and began massaging it with a practiced hand. This time, I snatched her wrist and twisted it behind her back.

  “Your services aren’t needed, Karina. Not now, not ever.” I let go and gave her a tiny shove. She stumbled in her heels, but caught herself quickly.

  Karina’s eyes narrowed and her skin flushed. “Fuck you!”

  I stepped forward until her back was pressed against the wall and leaned in close, my palms on either side of her head. It took every ounce of willpower to keep from tossing her out of the house on her ass.

  “Speak to me like that again and see what happens. I dare you.” Karina swallowed, eyes wide and the seductive act gone. I pointed toward the foyer. “Now, walk down the hall, open the front door, and fucking leave.”

  She nodded and ducked under my arm, moving as fast as those ridiculous shoes would allow. Once the front door closed, I rolled my eyes and wondered what the fuck I ever saw in her. Instead of painted nails and heels I envisioned grease-stained hands and cowboy boots. Instead of ten layers of mascara and makeup, I wanted a smattering of red-gold freckles.

  “Fuck.” Despite wanting to know why Karina was here, I was more invested in finding Miri and going on our ride, so I continued my search.

  Miri wasn’t in the library or the garage, her two favorite places. In fact, she wasn’t anywhere. Aggravated, I rang Sarge to have his men do a sweep of the grounds.

  “Boss, I thought you knew…”

  An icy tentacle slithered down my spine. “Knew what?”

  “We thought, I mean she said it was okay. We thought, because you let her get a job…”

  “Goddammit, Sarge! Spit it the fuck out right now!” I slammed my hand on the kitchen table, my temper holding on by the thinnest of silk threads, ready to snap at any second.

  “Miri left. Frank gave her a ride. He took her to the mall.” Sarge was clearly scared shitless to be the one to inform me of Miri’s departure.

  “Did any of your men go with them to protect her?”

  “No, Boss.”

  “Son of a bitch! Get Frank to pull the car around front! I’ll bring her back myself.”

  “Boss, Frank isn’t back yet. He’s with her at the mall, waiting.”

  I roared into the phone, cursing a blue streak. “You idiot. If Frank is with her then get him on the motherfucking line and tell him to get his ass back here and bring Miri. If she’s still shopping, have him go into the goddamn store, put her in the car, and bring her to me, now!”

  “Yes, Boss.”

  I clenched the phone in my hand, suppressing the urge to hurl it across the room. If Frank were to call, I needed my phone working, not in a million useless shards no matter how satisfying it would be to watch it explode. Fuck me, I should have given her a phone. Those fuckers should have asked before taking Miri anywhere. They answer to me, not her. They brought her out unprotected with this goddamn war looming.

  Goddamnit!

  Confused and somewhat unsettled, my hands itched and my legs became restless. I needed something to do to calm down and stop my overactive brain from sending me over the edge into a violence-filled tirade simply because Miri went to the mall. I considered straightening my closet or rearranging my desk, but decided I needed something physical instead.

  Miri was unprotected. Out of the house. Outside of my protection. Where Los Guerreros could get to her.

  Furious, I quickly changed into workout clothes and headed for my well-appointed home gym. After a brief stretch, which I cut short because it was too mindless of an activity to keep me from obsessing over Miri’s safety, I jumped on the treadmill and set the keypad to the much-loathed Heavy Hill workout and hit start. Half an hour and buckets of sweat later, the run hadn’t done a single thing to calm down my very active imagination or my volatile mood.

  Was Miri shopping and got hurt?

  Did El Cuchillo’s men get her?

  Did Frank run off the road and they’re both lying dead in a ditch?

  Certainly Frank had either called or was back by now. The fact that I hadn’t heard from him or Sarge ticked me off to no end.

  I slapped the kill switch and stood hunched over, hands on knees, to catch my breath. Puddles formed on the treadmill as sweat rolled off me in streams. When my heart rate slowed a bit, I snatched a towel from a neat pile on a nearby rack and wiped down, intent on paying a visit to the small pool house that served as the base of operations for my security team. Sarge was going to get a piece of my mind. As I approached the pool house door, loud voices came from inside. Frank and Sarge were arguing.

  “You’re fucking telling him what you did, Frank! I’m not the one who lost her!” From the sound of it, Sarge was freaking the fuck out.

  And Miri was missing.

  My stomach collapsed in on itself, tendrils of fear unfurling into my suddenly weakened limbs as I listened to Frank respond.

  “Calm down, Sarge. We don’t know what happened and you have men looking for her.” Frank’s s
ubdued, even demeanor did nothing to help ease the nausea burning in my gut. In fact, his lack of concern for Miri pissed me right the fuck off. Unable to hold back any longer, I burst through the door and both men froze, eyes wide and mouths hanging open.

  “Tell me what the fuck is going on. Now!” By the looks on the men’s faces, I was sure I appeared insane, slick with sweat from head to toe, hands fisted, and veins bulging. If I had to guess, I’d say my entire body was bright red and vibrating with fury. The thread I had been hanging on to had just fucking snapped.

  “Hey Boss. Sarge and I were just—”

  “I don’t give a flying fuck what you were just doing!” I stepped forward and the two men flinched. My jaw ached from clenching so hard. “Tell me everything. Now.”

  Miri

  The loud, high-pitched whirring of pneumatic tools combined with the low, steady whirr of air saws and the near constant clanging of chisels on metal sent vibrations through the ceiling below to the floor where I sat. Slumped on the hard tile, curled into a ball with my back against the wall, the tremors were nearly strong enough to make my teeth clack together.

  Beggars didn’t have the luxury to be choosers, and to be honest, the tiny apartment above the auto body shop was a hell of a lot better than some places I’d called home. Beau had no idea how much I owed him for letting me crash in the tiny space rent-free until I earned my first paycheck. Beneath the rough surface, the big, grumpy mountain of a shop owner had a heart of gold.

  When I showed up unannounced a few hours ago, my face blotchy and damp with tears and my clothes filthy from walking several miles, carrying every possession I owned in a bag slung over my shoulder, Beau offered the apartment no questions asked. I was so grateful I was struck speechless. My only response to his kindness was to start crying all over again.

  My stomach growled but I ignored it, too tired to leave to find real food. Besides, Jag… No, Boss, wasn’t a stupid man. The shop that recently employed me would be one of the first places he would check when he found out I was gone. Once he realized my things were missing, he’d know I left on purpose and didn’t simply vanish from the mall.

  I closed my eyes and said a quick prayer for Frank. It wasn’t his fault he lost me. Under the guise of shopping, I asked Frank to bring me to the mall, knowing I could slip out one of the dozen entrances unseen. The kind man even handed me a huge wad of cash, smiling as he told me to “purchase something nice” for myself.

  I blinked back the impending tears, determined not to cry again, but my broken heart wouldn’t allow me to let go of the conversation I’d had earlier. The one that sliced into the hard-earned trust I gave to Jag, severing everything between us with a single deep slash.

  Milo slipped into the library, the smile on his face sending up red flags all over the place. I glanced around, my pulse skittering, and realized I was cornered and alone. The closer Milo came, the faster my heart pounded. My brain screamed for me to run yet I was paralyzed by fear.

  Stopping a few feet away, the huge man perched on the arm of a nearby chair, his enormous frame towering over where I sat on a leather couch, a book lying on my lap. Despite knowing I shouldn’t, I was compelled to meet his eyes.

  When I did, I finally understood the meaning of “a deer caught in headlights.” I was the prey and Milo the predator. My heart faltered. I knew I didn’t stand a chance should he decide to physically hurt me. I swallowed down the scream building in my throat and spoke.

  “W-why are you here?”

  Milo was still smiling, but his eyes spoke a different story. A frightening story. I shivered under his scrutinizing gaze. Cold, hard, emotionless, dead—those are the words I would use to describe the soulless man behind the dark stare.

  “We got off on the wrong foot, Miri.” Milo leaned over, getting closer than was comfortable. “I wanted to start over if you’d let me.”

  Milo’s deep Texas drawl came out of nowhere and sounded as foreign coming from him as a French accent would from Jag. I didn’t want this man anywhere near me. Every instinct I had recoiled at his close proximity, but making Milo angry wasn’t something I wanted to chance.

  “Okay.”

  “Good,” he said with a clap of his hands on his knees. “You got a job, right?”

  “Yes.” Where was Jag? My brain was shouting warnings so loud I wanted to cover my ears.

  Get out! Run! Leave!

  Milo grinned, showing off a single gold tooth. I had to concentrate to not visibly cringe at the sight.

  “That’s wonderful. Now you can get out there and have a life. Find a nice guy to treat you right.”

  I furrowed my brow at Milo’s suggestion. He was baiting me, I knew it, but I couldn’t resist asking.

  “What do you mean? Like dating?”

  He knew I was with Jag. I had no doubt of that, because he hated me for it. So what was his point?

  “’Course! Pretty thing like you deserves better than bein’ treated like a whore in a harem.”

  The words hit me smack in the face and fell to the floor with a clunk.

  “H-harem?”

  The smile slid off Milo’s face, replaced with a somber stare.

  “Well, yeah. You didn’t… you didn’t think you were Boss’s only girl, did you?”

  My chest tightened and my stupid pale skin betrayed me, burning hot with humiliation, and likely glowing red.

  “Oh, you did think that.” He reached out and put a hand on my shoulder. It was supposed to be a comforting gesture, but instead it sent a streak of fear across my skin, raising the hairs at the back of my neck. “Sorry, darlin’. You wouldn’t be the first to fall for his charms, you know. I’m certain you won’t be the last.”

  I shrugged his hand off, nauseous from both Milo’s creepy touch and the crushing heartbreak pressing down on my chest.

  “Sorry ’bout that, darlin’. I honestly thought you knew.” Milo stood, straightening out his clothing. “I’ll leave you be, but you can come to me if you need someone to talk to.”

  I didn’t move or look at Milo as he left, afraid of cracking in front of the intimidating man. Blinking back tears, I pulled a blanket off the arm of the sofa, suddenly chilled to the bone.

  Milo was lying. He had to be. The man hated me and would do anything to get rid of me.

  Determined not to let that jerk get to me, I continued reading my book. Well, tried to read anyway. After Milo dropped his well-aimed bomb on its target, my concentration was shot. When I read the same page for the tenth time, still not able to absorb a single word, I decided to give up. I needed to talk to Jag. That would help. Once I did, everything would be straightened out.

  But what if Milo was telling the truth? I never did understand why Jag allowed me to stay after trespassing on his property, in full-blown withdrawal and begging for a hit. Why would he take in a junkie if not for sex?

  Nicky’s words from months ago echoed in my head over and over again like they had since I showed up on Jag’s front steps.

  “Get real, girl. There’s no free in this game.”

  On the verge of tears, I set the book and blanket on the couch and headed for the office, the one room I’d never seen. The doorbell rang right as I passed through the foyer and I let out a surprised squeak. A few seconds lapsed and no one came to open the door. No way was I answering it. It could be someone dangerous with a gun or worse.

  I was about to turn away and go to my room when I heard footsteps approaching. Not wanting to be caught lingering near the door, I ducked into the front sitting room and waited for whoever it was to go away.

  “Karina? What are you doing here?”

  I recognized the voice of the man at the door. It was Jace, one of Jag’s Men in Black.

  “Jag wants to fuck. Why else would I be here?”

  The slutty, over the top, fake voice? That, I didn’t recognize.

  “B-but… I mean… Are you sure? He wanted you to come here?”

  It was obvious by the way Jace sputtered, he
was wondering the same thing as me. Why would Jag have a piece of ass come to his house while I was living here? While he was fucking me? I balled up a fist and bit into my knuckle to muffle my cry. That bastard Milo was telling me the truth. Jag probably had whores all over the city.

  How stupid could I be?

  The woman, Karina, dropped the slut act and barked like a bitch, a sharp bite in her tone. “Well, are you going to invite me in or make me stand on the steps all day?”

  “Sorry, come in. Boss is in his study. Come to the kitchen and make yourself comfortable. You’ll have to wait for him, we don’t disturb him—”

  “When he’s in his study. I know how it works.”

  “Sorry, Karina,” Jace said.

  “Now that,” the bitch responded, “is a much better way to treat me.”

  The loud click of heels on marble echoed in the foyer as the two went down the hall to the kitchen. On the verge of a breakdown, I darted out of the room and flew up the stairs, blindly shoving as many clothes as would fit into the small backpack Jag bought for me to use when we rode on his bike. I hated having to take things purchased by that asshole, but I had no choice, no possessions of my own.

  I had nothing. No one. I could have stayed. Had a big blow up with Jag. But what’s the point? I don’t belong here.

  I wiped my face with the back of my hand and breathed.

  Keep your cool, Miri.

  In order to get out of here, I needed to appear happy and normal. Frank wouldn’t do what I asked without being suspicious if I were a sobbing mess. Hefting the pack on my shoulder, I inhaled deeply, and took one last look around the room.

  It was time to move on anyway. I didn’t belong here.

  I turned on my heel, head held high, and walked out.

  Boss

  When my men showed up with nothing to report, I was less than pleased. More like murderously angry. “It’s one motherfucking girl! Get back out there and don’t fucking come back without her!” Every one of my men flinched at the vehemence in my voice.