Dirty Addiction

by Ella Miles

  Saul stands and hurries past us, not bothering to wait for me. Some gentleman he is. I follow after him, Matteo won't be far behind.

  I always knew that there was evil in this world. I just didn't realize evil would ever come for me.

  3

  Matteo

  Damn, this woman.

  My finger stings like a bitch. You’d think I'd be used to the pain, but I'm not. Living the life that I do, puts me in dangerous situations every day. But that's what my men are for, taking bullets for me. I rarely, if ever, have to deal with the agony myself. It's only a broken finger, but it still hurts like hell.

  I've only ever broken a bone once before. When Arlo and I were fighting as teenagers, trying to prove who was better, stronger. He won, of course, breaking my jaw with a hard punch in my face, knocking me out cold.

  I never expected Eden, of all people, to be the one to break one of my bones. I’ll make her pay for it, of course.

  I need Nina. I thought I was okay when she chose Arlo. I thought I could live without her, but I can't. She haunts my dreams and forms my nightmares. Everything makes me think of her. Everything makes me want her. She tortures me, and she's not even here. I'm addicted to her. I can't be apart from her.

  And my idiot brother needs to be punished for what he did. I don’t care that he’s my brother. As the new leader, he needs to know that there are consequences to crossing me, whoever you are. For taking her from me. For abandoning me when I need him the most. I thought I could always count on him. I was wrong.

  "Sir, are you okay?" a waiter asks, staring at me with wide eyes at my broken finger. His bright face changes to green, and quickly shuts his mouth to keep from puking. His eyes never leave my finger, despite the vile that’s I’m sure is forming in his throat. It’s like I’m a car crash on the side of the road that people can’t stop staring at once they start, despite how unsafe it is to stare.

  “Does it fucking look like I'm okay?"

  His face is now red as he stands there, wholly incompetent.

  “Get me a Band-Aid, or preferably a first-aid kit. Now," I growl.

  The boy runs off toward the restaurant’s kitchen. I have no clue if he's going to return or not. But he only has about a minute of my patience before I storm back there myself and find what I need.

  He returns in a few seconds. He may be a fool, but at least he’s fast.

  I plop the first aid kit down on the table and sit down, popping the lid open. I dig through it, throwing band-aids aside, not caring about the mess I’m creating on the floor until I find the gauze and tape I am searching for.

  I tape my pinky to my ring finger for support, ensuring that my little finger is aligned correctly and not flopping around everywhere.

  "You should have a doctor examine that," the waiter says, turning green again.

  I glare at him as I stand and he shuts up. At least I’m still able to intimidate him.

  I thought Eden would come with me easily. I thought a simple threat would be enough to convince her to do whatever I wanted. I was wrong. This requires a more thorough plan.

  I start walking out of the restaurant, ignoring the disgusting smell wafting off the food and the cheap wine sitting on every table. I have to steal this woman for no other reason than to show her what first class food and superior wine is.

  Focus. I need a plan. I didn't bring backup. I didn't think I would require assistance. I wouldn’t use it if I had it. This is personal. I want to do this alone.

  I walk outside and down the sidewalk the three blocks to my car. Eden creeps into my mind as I walk.

  I was dumbfounded by how similar her appearance is to Nina when she opened the door to her condo. So astounded, I thought she was Nina for a second. Her skin is the same olive color. Her hair long, dark, and straight. Her eyes just as piercing.

  But my mind likes to play tricks on me when it comes to Nina. Eden, of course, isn't her. But they are best friends. They lived together. I'm sure Nina's told Eden everything. I doubt the similarities end with their appearance. Eden now shares the same fate Nina did. Eden will be captured the same way the Nina was.

  I throw the door open to my convertible and calmly climb in, enjoying the smell of the leather seats. The car is brand-new. I bought it for this trip. I don't like sharing cars, and I can afford the more expensive things in life, even a new car for my single day in the US. I fire up the car and pull out of my spot, chasing after them. I pull out my phone and begin tracking Eden’s phone. She may be feisty, but she's not smart enough to realize that she needs to get rid of her phone. The app on my phone instantly finds them. They are about ten blocks away, headed in the direction of her condo.

  I start driving fast, weaving around car after car as I catch up to them. Each minute that passes I get closer and closer. Adrenaline rushes through my muscles as I drive almost automatically. My brain doesn’t operate the car, my excitement does. The sooner I take Eden, the sooner I take Nina back and get to punish my brother.

  My hands remain unshakeable as I speed through another red light. My heart beats steadily, my breathing relaxed, when I almost crash into an old Volkswagen Beetle that’s driving far too slow in front of me. I dart out into the next lane and speed around it, not bothering to flip off the driver as I should. I’ve chased after someone in a car hundreds of times before. This is my life.

  I see her douchebag of a date’s car two in front of me. He thinks he's fancy driving in his Volvo S90. It's a ridiculous car, for men who are too weak to drive anything faster. His driving could use some work. I shouldn’t have been able to catch up to them as quickly as I did.

  I make a hard left turn, followed by two rights, looping around the block to get in front of them and stop at the light at the intersection. I lurk in the shadows of the building, waiting for them to stop at the light, perpendicular to where I sit. They do, and then I wait. I watch them from my seat in the car, talking to each other, having no idea the danger they are in. Having no clue that I hide feet away from them. Ready to take them out.

  I don't know what kind of man she's dating, but he's definitely not worthy of her. He can’t even protect her from a villain like me.

  I keep my eye on the light and watch as it turns green for them. I step on the gas, slamming into his side of his car.

  Our airbags go off, knocking the wind out of me for a second, but I'm determined. It does nothing to stop me. I want Eden, and I want her now. I’m tired of the games. I throw open my door and give myself a once-over before I examine my car. It barely has a scratch on it, while his shitty car took the brunt of the force. The entire front half is smashed in.

  I walk toward the driver side of the car, knowing now my target should have been Saul, instead of Eden. If I understand anything about her, I know she will protect her stupid date. She’ll put herself last.

  I throw his door open and grab his arm, pulling him out of the car as I take my gun out of the back of my pants and aim it at his head.

  "Now, let's try this again," I say, staring at Eden.

  Her eyes bulge as she undoes her seatbelt and pushes the airbag down out of her face.

  "Don't hurt him."

  Her voice is slick and unwavering as she speaks without a drop of fear.

  I smirk, my plan will work.

  "Do as I say and I won't kill him."

  She inspects me then her date. "I'm sorry," she mouths.

  She throws open her door and runs.

  "Damn it.” What's wrong with her? She doesn't give a shit about her date.

  I throw him hard against the concrete road.

  "You can blame Eden for this." I shoot him squarely in the leg to keep him from coming after me. He has a fighting chance of surviving, as long as I didn't hit any major artery running through his leg. I might need some help cleaning up this mess after all.

  I start running after her. She won't run far before I catch up with her. I'm far too impressive of a runner, and I'm far too motivated to not catch up with her. Her
only hope is if there happens to be a police station or some place of sanctuary she can run to and hide inside.

  But she seems to be out of luck. I see her turn a corner and I run after her, a second behind. She is fast, but not quick enough. I make a mental note not to underestimate her speed in the future.

  She feels me catching up to her and turns to glance behind her, only to see me feet away. She darts down another road, leading her out toward a four-lane street filled with cars zipping by. She's trapped.

  I slow my jogging down a little. She has nowhere to go. She won't be able to cross the busy street without getting hit by traffic. And there is nowhere else for her to hide.

  She hesitates, staring out at the cars whizzing by her and then glances back at me.

  I smirk.

  She darts out into traffic, because, apparently, she'd rather die then get taken by me.

  Shit.

  I run after her, dashing out into the traffic. One car stops, honking their horn emphatically. She won't get so lucky a second time. I catch up with her, grab onto her and pull us out of the way of another speeding car.

  We both lay on the cold concrete, my arms still around her, panting hard as the rush of adrenaline continues to beat wildly throughout our bodies.

  "You're welcome."

  She tries to climb out of my arms, but I hold her tighter to my body, enjoying having her warm body pressed against mine.

  "What? You aren’t grateful?"

  "No."

  "But I saved your life."

  "You saved my life only so you could steal me, and use me against my best friend. That's not saving me."

  “It’s better than what you did to your date."

  She scowls at me. "If I had gone with you, you would've killed him anyway."

  "That's where you're wrong. If I give you my word I won't kill someone, then I won't."

  "Will you kill me?"

  "Not today."

  She doesn't hesitate. She knees me hard in the balls, giving her enough time to free herself while I wrap myself around my wounded manhood.

  She's good. But I'm better. I jump up, run the few feet after her, and grab her arm, twisting it hard behind her back.

  She cries out.

  "Now that I have your attention again, you will do what I say, or I’ll break your arm, which trust me, from how much agony my finger is in, you won't recover from rapidly.”

  "You're a monster."

  "I know."

  I walk her back toward where my car and her date still sit, him bleeding out over the concrete.

  I smirk at the weak man lying on the ground. "How does it feel that this incredible woman wasn't willing to save you?"

  Her date glares back at me, too broken to even fight back with words.

  "Should I kill him now since he means so little to you?"

  "No, you wouldn’t.”

  "I would and I will."

  She pants hard. She makes the mistake of looking at the what is left of her date.

  "Save him, and I'll cooperate."

  "No, you won't."

  But I walk her forward to him, still holding her arm behind her back.

  "Take off your shirt," I say to him.

  He squeezes his eyes shut, like that will make me disappear.

  "Shirt off now," I bark again.

  "Listen to him," Eden pleads.

  He reluctantly removes his shirt, and I turn to Eden. “Now, take his shirt and tie it above the wound as tightly as you can.”

  I release Eden, keeping the gun firmly to her head as she does what I say. As soon as she's finished, I use my gun to slap him as hard as I can in the head, knocking him unconscious to the floor.

  "Why did you do that?” she screams, trying to wake him up with her pathetic shakes of his shoulder.

  "So he wouldn't follow us or remember any of this conversation to tell the police.”

  I grab her arm again, pulling her up from his limp body as I take out my phone and dial 911.

  "911, what’s your emergency?"

  "There's been an accident at the corner of 7th and South Olive.” I hang up.

  “I kept my word. Now get in the car and cooperate before I change my mind and kill you both."

  4

  Eden

  Matteo speeds off, away from the accident. Away from Saul.

  I glance into the side mirror at Saul’s car shrinking smaller and smaller as we speed away, until it all but gets lost among the other cars driving by. Regret instantly fills my soul. How could I have been so heartless to have let Matteo shoot Saul? I needed to save myself. I needed to save Nina. But will I ever be able to live with myself if Saul dies? If he dies, it’s my fault.

  Matteo turns the corner, and I'm no longer able to see the car or Saul.

  "He's going to die, isn’t he?" I stare out the window as buildings whiz by, narrowly registering what's happening to me. All I can think about is Saul.

  "He'll survive if he’s strong enough."

  I turn toward Matteo, who is whistling to himself as he loosely grasps the steering wheel. He’s acting as if nothing happened. Like he didn't just shoot a man in the leg and leave him bleeding out on the sidewalk, most likely to die. Like he's not currently kidnapping me. In fact, the entire car appears that way. His convertible hardly has a scratch on it. And when I take a deep breath, I smell the fresh new car scent, when it should reek of death and gloom.

  “How do you know that?”

  "Stop worrying about your date. You didn't seem concerned with him before, by the way you ran off instead of trying to save him.”

  "That's because I didn't think you would shoot him. And I wasn't thinking about him, I was thinking about Nina."

  He rapidly steps on the gas, accelerating as we go around another corner. I grab onto my seat to attempt from slamming my head into the side of the door.

  “Relax, he’ll survive. I missed all his major arteries, and if the emergency system is halfway decent around here, the paramedics are already at his side providing medical services. And as long as it doesn’t take them hours to drive him to a hospital, he won’t bleed out before they save him.”

  "How do you know you didn't hit any major arteries? You’re not a doctor.”

  He rolls his eyes. "Because he would've been dead by the time we got back to him and blood would have been pouring out of his leg.”

  I'm not sure if I believe him. It sure as hell looked like a lot of blood to me. I'm not sure he knows anything about gunshot wounds, although he's probably been shot dozens of times before, so maybe he does.

  But I also know that he is willing to tell me whatever he thinks I want to hear to get me to cooperate. He's right about one thing; I won't be cooperating. I plan on running again the next chance I get.

  I rest my hand on the door handle in case he decides to stop, and I can make my escape.

  "Don't even think about it."

  "I'm not thinking about anything.”

  He shakes his head and punches the gas. My body slams against the door as he swerves around cars and goes the wrong way down a one-way street. I close my eyes and pray we don't hit anything, and simultaneously hope we do crash and die so this will be all over.

  “I’ll never slow down enough for you to be able to jump out of the car and run, so remove your fucking hand from the door."

  My hand slips off the door, bracing myself again as he continues to speed and curse. I have to be more careful at revealing any part of my plan to him in the future. He's done this before; he's going to be able to spot what I'm planning before I carry it out. I have to make sure I don't give him any signs or clues that I'm going to bolt again. Not even a tiny hint with my body.

  “Where are you driving me?" I stare at him, demanding an answer to my question but doubting he'll give me one. I'm sure the less I know, the better, in his mind.

  "Italy."

  My mouth drops a little when he answers me. He's taking me back to his home. I'm not sure why I didn't realize what his
plan was before. I thought he would hold me captive in a hotel room, or an empty warehouse somewhere where he could torture me to find out where Nina and Arlo are. It would end with either me escaping or with a bullet through my head. Apparently, though, that's not the plan.

  Italy. He's taking me back to Italy. So many memories and emotions pour through my head as I think of going back to a country I both love and hate. I love because it was the last time I got to be free.

  I always thought I would do something creative, bringing more joy to the world with art and imagination. I enjoy painting and studying history. Architecture. Everything beautiful.

  A life of art and creativity was the path I was headed down in Italy, and it was the last time I did things solely for the love of it.

  But Italy is also where I lost my best friend. Her life changed forever, and so did mine. I realized I couldn't do things for the love of it anymore. I needed a more significant purpose. So I went to law school and then started prosecuting bad guys. I’ve been fulfilling my new reason to exist every day since.

  We arrive at the airport far too quickly. He takes me to a private airfield, not LAX. He drives through the security gate, past the armed guards who merely open the gate without asking for ID, because apparently they already know who Matteo is. He continues right up to a plane I assume he owns and parks a few feet away.

  I can't leave with him. If he takes me to Italy, I could end up trapped for weeks. Or dead. I need to escape. Now.

  He undoes his seatbelt and pushes the door ajar. I undo my seatbelt and throw my door open wide and sprint as fast as I can in the opposite direction of the plane.

  I don't have a plan. I move as quickly as my body will run, away from Matteo. I will hopefully find someone who can help me. A police officer, someone in the military, or any person with a car who will stop and drive me far, far away from here.

  I sense him behind me. I'm a runner and in shape. I’m fast; he's faster. I hoped catching him off guard for a second would allow me enough of a head start to escape. But I was wrong.