And the Sweet (Addiction Series Book 2)

by Delilah Frost

  I can’t think on that right now. There are bigger, pressing matters to attend to. Starting with the woman sitting in the chair in front of us, downing yet another drink.

  I hate knowing Melody knows about our drug use. I hate knowing she knows we spent a month completely lost and that once upon a time, we had been in rehab because of addiction. I hate knowing this because for the longest time, it was our secret, our private shame and I’d wanted to keep it that way.

  It was important to keep it that way.

  But then I realize that I have to accept this. I don’t really have a choice, for one. But it’s so much more than that. I mean Cecelia doesn’t really have any friends. Marshall has come back into our lives but he has always been more my friend than hers. So, I guess it’s fitting Cecelia would finally feel comfortable enough to trust someone with our secrets. It’s a fucking incredible thing how connected that person is though.

  Thankfully, while Melody knows of our addictions, she does not know the whole of our shame. It was something we discussed the moment Celia stepped into our apartment and told me what had happened.

  The moment the words “he was at work again,” left her mouth and I’d pulled her into our bedroom to talk, everything was instantly frozen. How do you respond to that? Especially after it being my main worry and having it come to fruition. I think I stood there for ten minutes, blinking, not wanting to hear what she’d said.

  “Are you sure” had been my response, as though Cecelia wouldn’t remember what this piece of shit looks like, sounds like, especially after ambushing her prior. She’d looked like she’d wanted to cry, like the stress of it all was getting to her. And that made me want to kill him all the more.

  Instead all she did was nod, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. “He was hiding in the shadows. He was waiting, ready to pounce like some demon in a haunted house. He saw us both so I really don’t know who he was looking for, even though he really didn’t know Mel works at Coco. But I don’t think that matters because he’s the same person. Her tormentor, ours.”

  I’d pulled her into my arms. Held her for a moment, let her have her freak out until she was calm enough for us to return to the front room where Melody waited.

  I’d wanted to grab our shit, whatever was important and run because after everything we’d been through, we really could have done without this. To not have to deal with more.

  “We have to tell her something, Chace.”

  I had shaken my head vigorously with these next words. I’d tried to say no. Tried to say Melody didn’t need to know anything at all. I mean let’s be honest; who wants to talk about stuff as indelicate as this?

  But the look on her face, the fact that Melody now knew something was up because Cecelia had had an obvious reaction to Hagen being so close, not to mention needing answers, pushed me to give in. My back was against the wall, our secret had to be shared.

  “We won’t say everything. I promise.”

  It still feels unnerving the way that whole conversation went down. Hearing Cecelia tell Melody how she and I met. Hearing her talk about how messed up we were once upon a time and that even though we left behind that life, it didn’t leave us behind. Hearing her talk about our struggle, and how a terrible moment of weakness led us to meeting Hagen. Led us to buying from him and losing a month of our lives to drugs to the point where we don’t remember what we did.

  In some ways, I appreciate that aspect. I mean how can you talk about something you can’t even remember? Bits and pieces from dreams, feelings of things while awake but not really knowing the context behind them, that’s not an encounter. That’s nothing but a possible hallucination or a fragmented mind from the drug use.

  Though I know even if we did remember, we’d keep it to ourselves.

  “I can’t move again. And I can’t just quit my job.” Melody’s voice brings me out of my thoughts. “Jesus. He fucked me over and now he’s trying to do the same to you.”

  She has no idea how right her words are, but I bite my tongue.

  “Do you want to stay here tonight?” Cecelia asks her friend.

  “No. No, I’m gonna call Trey to see if I can stay with him.”

  Before I know what I’m doing, my mouth opens and words come out. “What’s the deal between the two of you?”

  It’s something I’ve wondered for a couple of years now. Wondered after seeing them together, wondered after seeing her with Stretch. I never thought to ask Celia, but right now, with Melody mentioning him, I can’t help myself.

  And when Melody’s cheeks heat up, I feel like I struck pay dirt.

  “Oh. Um,” she begins on a stutter. “Well, you see, when I first moved to Chicago after everything, Trey was one of the first guys I met. He worked at a club I was trying to get hired on at. While I waited for my interview, we talked. Talking led to flirting. Flirting led to a date.” She finishes off her beer and clears her throat. “We dated for about six months before he got a job working security for some up and coming singer that made him go on the road.”

  “So what happened?”

  “After the guy fizzled out, Trey came home and started working odd bouncer jobs again. It was a few years before I saw him again but he’s how I found out about the job at Coco.” Melody stands, her arms wrapping around her body. “We thought about dating again, but it’s been so many years and it just didn’t feel right. So now we’re just really good friends.”

  She grabs her jacket and slips it on. Her face is drawn and I wonder what she’s thinking before she starts speaking again.

  “Just so you know, I really liked your friend. I don’t know what happened to him. I don’t know if Bryson hurt him or had people hurt him.” She looks at me, speaking to me as though she’d read my thoughts from earlier. “But I figured I’d stay away. Just in case. It sucks and I wish it hadn’t come to this, but I didn’t want him to get hurt. And he still did. Because like I said, I really did like him.”

  She leaves almost immediately after that. I assume after telling us her story, hearing ours, and then talking about even more discomforting things would make anyone want to rush away. Truthfully I’m glad she’s gone. I like Melody. She helped me out when she didn’t need to. And she’s good to Celia. But I need to be alone with Cecelia, hold her, touch her, know she’s safe and in my arms.

  Because I still don’t know exactly what Hagen has on us. Snippets of memories, lust-filled dreams solve nothing. These things tell me nothing. He could have everything. He could have nothing.

  But I can’t take the chance it’s nothing. I have to protect us. There is no other option.

  TWENTY-THREE

  It’s very strange the way everything comes to be. Strange how one minute we are waiting on bated breath for something, anything to happen, and the next minute, there it is.

  Everything is the same as it always is. Everything is exactly like any other day. I make love to Cecelia intermittently through the night before I get up and go to work. I train on a new piece of equipment and help train others coming in. I text off and on with Cecelia until she goes into work and then when my day is done, I go home to wait for her to get off.

  She decides to work an early shift this day. Decides to get off early so she can join me for a late dinner. It won’t be long before the weather changes completely and cold snow rolls in. It won’t be long before we can’t just hang out outside on our small apartment balcony, enjoying the sounds of the Chicago night.

  We decide to order a pizza. Chicago has great pizza and neither of us want anything extensive. So while Cecelia showers the bar off, I wait for the buzzer and our food. It should be a regular night. Still comfortable with just a sweater, still sweet. It has been a regular day. It should be a normal evening before we fall into bed making love all night long.

  At five minutes to ten, a knock sounds on my door. I call to Cecelia that the food is here once I hear her turn the water off. I move out of our bedroom, and through the apartment like this is a normal occurrence
. Because it is. There is nothing unusual about this night.

  But looking back, I don’t think anything of it. It’s a normal night. Nothing unordinary no matter what’s been going on lately.

  I stride to the door, unlocking it without question, money in hand, salivating at the idea of our dinner. But instead of pizza, instead of a box of pepperoni and black olive and extra cheese, a gun, a revolver of some kind, is pointed at my chest. And behind the gun, stands a bulkier, and very twitchy looking Bryson Hagen.

  It’s very strange the thoughts that run through my head in this moment. Disbelief. Shock. Annoyance. Hunger for a food missing.

  None of them are the correct reaction. And yet, they all work.

  Well, maybe except the last one. That one is an inconvenience I don’t have time for.

  “Step back from the door,” Hagen demands pushing the muzzle of the gun against my chest. His hand is a bit shaky. I know from previous experience, at least the experience I can blurrily remember, as well as Melody’s words, that he used his own product. I have no doubts he still does, especially as I look up into his face and see the red, wild eyes staring at me.

  “What are you doing?” It’s a stupid question. Obviously. But my mind isn’t comprehending what I’m seeing, witnessing.

  “Collecting. It’s been a long time. I know she told you what I wanted. I’m tired of waiting for the two of you to finally pay up.” The look on Hagen’s face is twisted smugness. It’s a spider catching its prey and teasing until the moment of death.

  “Payment for what? What do you want and why? How do I know you even have anything on us?” The barrel jams against my chest again and I am forced to step back further. I can hear Cecelia in our bedroom and know she’ll be coming out soon. I need to get this situation under control before that happens though.

  “Yeah, you’d think that. But you’d be wrong.” Hagen once more presses the barrel against my chest and I find myself backed against the couch. He pushes at me until I’m forced to sit, hands raised in submission. “You and your whore used a lot of my product then you skip out on me? I’ve decided you still have a debt to pay up. I want my payment now.”

  Of course, Celia picks this moment to exit our bedroom. I turn my head at the sound of the door opening and see her tying her wet hair back with a soft tie. She’s wearing her purple sleep shorts that barely cover her ass, and a thinning spaghetti strap top that nearly shows off her breasts. She’s a walking dream entering into a nightmare.

  “Hey, was that the pizza guy? I don’t smell-“

  “Get back in the bedroom!” I shout at her, hoping to save her from this while knowing it’s futile. Especially as the butt of the gun crashes against my head right above my ear for my outburst. I groan, hear Celia cry out, and hear Hagen laugh.

  “No, join us. I’m so glad to see you’ve dressed for the occasion.” In my daze, I see him point the gun toward Celia, his eyes still wild, but now filled with hunger. I hate how he’s seeing her like this. I hate that he’s slobbering all over himself at the inadvertent show she’s giving him.

  I hate that he’s seen her in less.

  As she moves closer, her breasts and ass bouncing with each step she takes, I keep my eyes on Hagen, lest he try anything. The second she’s near, he pulls a rope from his back pocket and tosses it her way. “Tie those around his wrists,” he orders with a growl and a sneer.

  Celia is shaking as she approaches me. One part of her is trying to keep watch on Hagen, trying to make sure he doesn’t try anything against her while her back is turned, and the other is on me. I see fear in her eyes, and it matches my own. We’ve never been in a situation like this before. Never had our lives actually threatened before.

  I want to tell her everything will be all right. But that’d be a lie and there’s no room for lies right now. Instead, I work to make this easier on her. I hold out my hands, wrists pressed together but not too tight so I have some wiggle room, and watch as she struggles to tie me up. We’ve never been into bondage or restraints. They’re not our kink. So Celia struggles to get me tied and I can hear Hagen growing impatient.

  “Hurry up, hurry up!” He grabs at her arm before she’s fully finished and I growl at his audacity to touch her. “Shut your fucking mouth,” he tells me and pulls out another rope. Struggling with only one hand truly free, he works to wrap the rope around Celia’s wrists, and I can see the restraints are tight, especially when I hear her whimper. “There. Now it’ll be easier.”

  “What do you want?” Celia cries, her whole body trembling as she stands before Hagen.

  He just laughs and grabs her, pulling her back to his front. Her brown eyes widen and I struggle to stand, hoping to find a way to stop him, but he halts my progress. With the gun pressed against her side, he orders me to head to the door. Orders me to walk down the stairs of our apartment complex. Yells at me for making too much noise in my hope to arouse curiosity from a neighbor. Then demands I get into the backseat of a waiting black SUV with extremely tinted windows.

  All while holding the gun hard against Celia’s stomach, holding her hostage and every action I want to think of hostage.

  In her skimpy pajamas, Celia is pushed into the backseat beside me, pushed up against me as Hagen slips in beside her. As soon as the door is closed and he’s told the guy waiting in the driver’s seat to go, he’s pulling Celia back against him, gun trained on her body.

  She’s crying openly. And I feel tears prick my eyes seeing her life in danger, seeing the way this maniac is caressing her arm with his free hand, all while giving me looks as if to say he’s won.

  I don’t know how long we drive for. I don’t know where we end up really. It wasn’t a long ride, but I’ve never been to this part of town. The car parks and Hagen opens the door on his side, climbing out and yanking Cecelia with him. He shouts at me to follow or he’ll hurt her. I’ve no doubt he’d keep his promise so I do as I’m told. As the chilly night breaks across my skin, I glance up at a dilapidated warehouse. We’re near the water, I know that much, as I can smell it, but this building is foreign to me.

  As Hagen tells the driver he’ll call him when he’s done, he turns back to me. Just as I’m trying to figure out how I can get one over on him, especially since doesn’t appear to have reinforcements around, he barks at me. “Get walking. I’ve got a very good surprise for the two of you.” My stomach churns at his promise but I walk.

  I walk toward the building, entering an open door and then stopping the second I’m inside. My heart drops as I see the layout.

  Dozens upon dozens of candles line the center of the floor. There’s a sofa, a projector and screen, and right in the middle of it all, a made-up bed. Jesus fuck, he isn’t kidding.

  “Stop fighting me, you stupid bitch,” Hagen bellows pulling my attention away from the nightmare in front of me to the one still behind me. I see Celia trying to squirm away from him, but it’s not doing any good. And with his next words, he makes her freeze altogether. “On second thought, keep wiggling. Getting me all kinds of hard for you.”

  “You sick fuck,” she sobs but he only laughs at her.

  “Let’s go check out your surprise.” He once more forces us to move forward until we’re inside the lit circle. With a grunt, he pushes Celia down onto the sofa and waves the gun toward me for me to sit beside her.

  “Now that we’re here, I thought I’d take us down memory lane. What do you say?” It’s rhetorical. And neither of us is dumb enough to say anything. As Celia presses her head to my shoulder, her tears soaking my t-shirt, Hagen moves to the projector, starting it up with a gleeful giggle. “You guys are going to love this. You should get comfortable.”

  With a crackle, the screen lights up and my heart drops completely. I can’t believe my eyes. I don’t want to believe my eyes. But they say seeing is believing.

  Though it’s grainy I can see exactly what Bryson Hagen has over Cecelia and myself. And I feel my stomach turn.

  We were so young. So young an
d so fucking dumb.

  The hidden video camera had already been recording before we ever entered the room at the Midway Inn ten plus years ago. I suppose I can understand the reasoning behind it. When you’re making drug deals, you want your bases covered. It’s harder for people to screw you over if their face is all over your video feed. I just never thought we’d be seen. Not like this at least.

  Then again, we were coked out getting there and hadn’t really had time to sober up too much before we were snorting more. But still, there we are. In a dingy motel room. With a tweaked out dealer looking to make a deal. My God we were so messed up.

  “Thanks for meeting with us.”

  “What are you looking for?”

  “Same as before.”

  I watch with alarmed attention as Hagen cuts a line of white powder before offering it to Cecelia first. She inhales it quickly and I’m struck by the sweet look on her face. Then I see myself take the powder and the look that crosses my face makes me uncomfortable.

  It’s one thing to know you’ve used, it’s entirely another to actually see it.

  A moment passes in which we agree to the sale and Hagen leaves the room. I see us sitting on a dirty couch. I see us dazed and ridiculous. I see us crazy and lustful and in a second, those feelings are acted upon as Cecelia moves to straddle my lap.

  “What are you doing, baby?”

  “I want you inside me, Chace.”

  The look on my face is dangerous. Filled with longing and bad decisions. My hands touch her body, caressing across her clothes and I can see how much I want to her.

  Shit, I want her now, just looking at the two of us. A quick glance Celia’s way shows me she’s feeling just as affected. This is completely ridiculous. Watching a video of us we hadn’t known was made and being turned on by it. And with the asshole who made it in the room with a gun pointed at us.

  “Please fuck me. Fuck me here.”

  “He could come back any second now.”