The strength in which my hands shake begins to multiply. My stomach twists in knots and attempts to stab through my abdomen. A sliver of light cracks through the blanket over the window, and it’s like a laser beam to my irises. I’ve been completely numb for weeks, and suddenly, every inch of me is hypersensitive.
I’m startled when a scream rips from my chest that sounds nothing like me.
“What’s happening to me?” I look up at Smith, begging for a reprieve.
“Isn’t it obvious? You’re withdrawing.” His tone is bored, but his face shows amusement. Smith has been extra stingy lately. It’s been … over twelve hours since my last dose. Holy shit. That’s the longest I’ve gone since my first hit.
I’m withdrawing. From heroin. How is that possible? I might have wanted to hide with the people on this side of town, but I’m not like them. My body doesn’t need drugs. There is no way.
“Give me a shot. Please. Make it end!”
I don’t believe him. Something else is wrong. It isn’t withdrawal, but I know that whatever it is, heroin will make it disappear. It vanquishes every pain, physical or mental.
“No.”
No? Fuck him. I have my own stash.
Pathetically, I crawl across the floor. Smith laughs, but I don’t care.
The sound of a lock clicks, and I look up to see his hand leaving the door handle.
“You think you’re going to get this?” He pulls out my stash of the few baggies I earned from tattooing and hid away for safekeeping. His foot goes to my back, and in my weakened state, it’s enough to make me stay put. Above me, Smith readies his tools, and my mouth waters. He empties out the entirety of my stash and cooks it up.
“Please.” My fingers scrape the floor.
“You need to learn a lesson, Party Girl.”
“I’m sorry! I’ll do better. I’ve learned my lesson. Please!”
“You don’t even know what you’re apologizing for, you dumb bitch. You just want the drugs. That isn’t a lesson learned. So, listen up; you will not hide things from me, especially drugs.”
Tears pour from my eyes—from the torturous aches convulsing my body and from the humiliation of this moment of Smith literally stepping on me to keep me down—and still, the only thing that really matters is giving him what he wants, so he’ll give me what I want. After he’s cooked up, he carefully removes his clothes with the needle in one hand. With aggression that normally only comes out in small doses, he flips me over and then drops, so he’s straddling me.
His dick is harder than I’ve ever seen it, standing straight up.
“You’ll learn and quick. You wanted into my world, and I let you in. Now, you need to start respecting what I say and listening to me a whole lot better.” Making a show of it, he shoots the entirety of my stash into his veins. “We only have a short time before your withdrawal turns serious, and you have a whole lot of making up to do before that happens. Then, and only then, will I give you what you need.”
“I’m sorry,” I squeal.
“You aren’t forgiven yet,” he spits harshly. His head nods from the large dose he just took, and my craving jumps tenfold. “Make me happy. Be a good girl.” His words lose their venom and become slow and sluggish.
“I will. I promise.” It’s an empty vow. I’m not capable of making anyone happy, but I can do what he says and play whatever role he wants me to.
Slowly, he takes off my clothes.
“Take my cock like a good little whore.”
That phrase. Chills race up my spine.
“Take my cock like a good little whore.”
I squeeze my eyes closed to rid myself of his face.
His shallow breathing suffocates me as the air he releases stings my face.
“I hope it’s me who gets to kill you.” His hands go around my throat, and he gets off on his morbid fantasy. “You have no value to the boss, so I doubt he’ll care. I’d love to end your life while my cock is still inside you.”
End. It. Now.
His dirty nails scrape down my skin to my breasts. He pinches my nipples so hard that my vision blacks out for a brief moment. I grit my teeth and attempt to breathe through the pain that is pulsing through my entire body.
I hate this farm, and I loathe this monster.
“Your pussy loves my cock, you uptight little bitch. Your wet cunt is dripping all over my dick.”
My body betrays me in the worst kind of way, and I get sick.
Vomit empties from my throat and splatters down my chest.
This vile creep just laughs at me.
The sting of the needle in my arm brings me back. Smith pushes down the plunger on the syringe, and my eyes roll into the back of my head. The transition between the past and my current inebriated state is too fast, leaving me confused and stuck between worlds. I’ve wet myself and am laying in it but can’t bring myself to move. Sweat and urine cover my naked skin. There’s cum on my chest, and I don’t remember how it got there. My dry lips stick together and crack when my tongue sneaks out to wet them.
The H makes it all okay.
If Burke could see me now … he’d kill me.
If Kai could see me now … he’d never want me again.
“Clean this room up when you come to and don’t disobey me again, or next time, things will be so much worse. I’ll let the whole house watch as I fuck you while you hallucinate whatever freaky shit you’re running from before I dose you, you fucking junkie.”
As long as he gives me the heroin after, it doesn’t matter. My body isn’t mine anymore. I ceased to be in control of it the second wetness arose between my legs when I was being raped. From here on out, I don’t really care what happens. Nothing is as bad as being locked in the farmhouse, being tortured, and wanting to die. I lost myself there. Paisley came to save me, but she should have let me burn with that old house after she sparked the flames.
I wish she had.