When I get back with her dinner, she’s already asleep again. I sit down and eat it myself, watching another baseball game with the volume turned down low as she tosses and turns.

This time though, she doesn’t talk in her sleep. The hours crawl by and eventually I get into bed next to her. She turns her body toward me, nuzzling closer to the pillow. I wonder again how I got myself into this, how I ended up getting this damn junkie girl through her fucking withdrawal. Three days of it, of a delirious, nearly insane girl mumbling about her family, her abusive parents, the shitty things that happened when she was a little girl. It was almost enough to make me sick, at least if I didn’t understand exactly what she was feeling.

There’s a reason I got into fighting years ago, a reason I’ve been a violent man for most of my life. It’s the only way I know, the only thing I was taught.

I wake up the next morning before she does and head out to the little diner across the street. I grab two coffees and two breakfasts this time, and I make sure to leave a nice tip behind like I do every time. If some guys come in here asking about me, I hope they’ll remember the tips and maybe leave out some details, like the fact that I’m staying across the fucking street.

She’s awake when I come back in, sitting up in bed and fidgeting with the blankets. She looks at me as I put the food down on the table and hand her a coffee.

“How are you feeling?” I ask.

“Better,” she says. “Not perfect, but I don’t think I’m going to keel over and puke anytime soon.”

I laugh a little. “You don’t know how relieved I am to hear that.”

“I’m sorry,” she says, going slightly pale. “Have you had to, uh…?”

“Clean your bucket a lot?” I grin and shrug. “The first day was the worst.”

She groans and sips her coffee. “Oh my god, this is so good.”

“Yeah?” I frown and sit at the table across from her. “I thought it was just okay.”

“I mean, I can actually, like, taste it.” Her eyes go a little wide as she sips it again. “Wow, I really forgot how good coffee is.”

I frown a little bit. “I think I’ve heard about this. You got desensitized to everything since you were giving your brain straight-up pleasure every time you shot up. Now you’ll get that pleasure from normal stuff, the way everyone else does. Or at least that stuff won’t be so muted for you anymore.”

She laughs a little bit. “I don’t think anything will compare to being fucked out of my mind on really good heroin, but coffee’s pretty damn close.”

I laugh and watch her for a second as she takes another sip and seems to shiver with pleasure. “Look, Kay. We have to talk.”

She frowns a little. “Right now? Can’t I just enjoy this a little longer?”

“Sorry,” I say softly. “But you know we can’t wait.”

She sighs and squirms a little bit. I’m struck all over again by how beautiful she is. Even after everything, the sweating and puking and groaning, she’s still fucking sexy to me. I don’t know how, but she even seems to be glowing a little bit, like she’s healthier than she was before.

“Fine,” she says.

“Is there anyone that might be looking for you?”

She shrugs. “I don’t think so.”

“If there is, you can’t call them. You can’t tell anyone where you are, not until we know we’re safe.”

“How do you even know… how are you sure we were set up?”

“I’m sure,” I say, glaring at her. “Nothing else makes sense.”

“Yeah, but—”

“No,” I interrupt her. “You have to understand. You can’t leave here, you can’t talk to anyone. You’re my fucking captive until I’ve figured this all out.”

She blinks at that and doesn’t respond. She sips her coffee and I stare her down, needing her to understand how vitally important this is.

“I’ve been nice,” I say softly. “I brought you through the worst of withdrawal, but now it’s time to stop fucking around. We’re still in serious shit, Kay, and as far as I’m concerned, you’re still a liability.”

“I’m not your problem.”

“Yes, you are.” I clench my jaw. “Don’t you see? You know too much.”

“So leave me, drop me off somewhere, and run away.”

I let out a snort. “You’d last two minutes.”

“I’d last longer than you think.”

“Do you really want to end up dead, especially now? After going through all that to get clean?”

She looks genuinely surprised. “I don’t want to end up dead at all,” she says softly.

“Good. Listen to me, stop fucking around, and do what you’re told. Okay?”

She just glares at me in response.

“Okay,” I say more softly this time. “You need to shower, and when you’re done, we can talk about… I don’t know. Whatever we’re going to do.”

She shrugs and throws the blankets off her. She’s wearing just the t-shirt she had on under her hoodie and her boy short panties. They make her ass look fantastic, a fact that I haven’t been able to stop obsessing over in my mind these past few days. She’s going through withdrawal and you’re thinking about how fucking nice her ass would look wrapped around your cock, you sick freak. God damn, what’s wrong with me?

She heads into the bathroom, shuts the door, and locks it. I hear the shower come on as I lean back in my chair and sigh.

I don’t know why I’m being such a hardass. She’s had more than a few chances to run away, but she hasn’t. That should be proof enough that she’s not going to fuck me over, but I can’t be sure, not yet anyway. She’s still getting over her symptoms, and until she’s totally clear and proves that she’s not a flight risk, I have to keep a close eye on her.

If she runs, gets caught, and tells them where I am, we’re both dead. And I don’t feel like ending up like that fucking dick back on the beach.

Still, I don’t need to be such a bastard to her. I hate myself for it. I just don’t know any other way. I’ve been a dick my whole life, and apparently that’s not changing anytime soon. Shove me into an unknown situation with an unknown girl, and mix in some murder, and I guess I’m not being my best self.

Fucking hell. When did I start to worry about my “best self?” Ever since I decided to turn a new leaf and leave behind my bullshit violent past, I’ve been such a goddamn baby.

Weakness or not, I know I can’t keep pushing Kay too hard. She just went through withdrawal, for fuck’s sake. And that boyfriend of hers, although he seems like he was a real fucking scumbag, was murdered right in front of her. Add in a little kidnapping, and yeah, I can see how this isn’t the greatest situation for her either. She never asked for any of this, just like I didn’t.

I sigh and stretch. I can see why Kay’s boyfriend was set up in all this. He owed someone money, and that person clearly wanted him to go down for it, maybe to send a little message. What I don’t get is why I was involved in any of that at all.

I’ve been racking my brain these last few days, trying to figure it out, and I’m not much further along than when I started. I’ve been keeping my head down for a while now, not rocking the boat or fucking with anyone, basically living like a saint as far as I go. I don’t owe anyone money, and nobody owes me any money either, so it can’t be about that. I haven’t broken any hearts lately, or at least any hearts that would be willing to try and get me murdered for it.

Which leaves me with only a few options, and one name at the very top of the list. There’s only one person I know with the power to make something like this happen and the ruthlessness to actually go through with it. I haven’t dealt with him in a long time, and I hoped I would never have to see him again. I’m still hoping, but the more I think about it, the more I’m afraid Hunter Oakes is behind all of this.

I stand up with a sigh. I’m exhausted from taking care of her night and day but I know I can’t keep pushing her or else it’ll just be harder for both of us. She’s clearly not the type of girl to let me shove her around without a fight, at least without drugs involved. Now that she’s clean, I suspect she’s going to be even harder to keep under control.

I might as well make nice. I listen to the shower running for a few more minutes, trying not to picture what she looks like in there, completely naked, water streaming down her perfectly smooth skin in rivulets. The shower turns off after another minute, and I slowly stand up, knees creaking with the effort.

I walk across the room, eyes on the floor. I raise my fist to knock just as the knob turns and the door swings open.

Kay blinks out at me and I slowly let my fist drop. She’s wearing just a towel, her hair slicked back, her big eyes blinking out shower water.

“Uh, hey,” she says.

“Hey,” I say back.

“I’m done in there.”

“Good. I see that.”

“Yeah.” She looks at me for another second. I can’t help but let my eyes roam down along her body, lingering along those beautiful breasts. I want to tear that towel away, but not yet, I can’t let myself lose control just yet.

“I wanted to apologize,” I say softly.

“Apologize?” She seems surprised. “You don’t seem like the type to say sorry.”

“Not saying sorry, just apologizing.”

She grins a little bit. “What’s the difference?”

“One word.” I grin back and lean closer to her. “Anyway, I’ve been hard on you. I’ll try not to be in the future.”

“Yeah. Okay. Thanks.”

She’s looking up at me with these big, beautiful eyes and her fuckable little lips are full and parted, her pink tongue lingering on her bottom teeth, and I can’t help myself.

I don’t pull her towel off, but I do something stupider. I run my hand through her wet hair, making her groan and tip her head to the side as I push her against the doorjamb and kiss her.

We linger there, suspended in the moment. She’s kissing me back, one hand drifting to my chest. She lets out this fucking sexy as hell little mewl, more like a moan, right into my mouth. It makes my blood pump harder, right into my ears, as her other hand releases her towel and drifts up to my shoulder.

As she touches my arm, her towel drops. It’s like slow motion. I feel it slip between us and fall to the floor with a soft plop. She freezes mid-kiss and suddenly pulls away, dropping down to the floor, curling up in a ball.

I step away, blinking. She’s blushing like mad and wrapping the towel around herself again. I get a glimpse of full, perky breasts, and hard, pink nipples.

“Sorry,” she says. “I mean, uh, I didn’t mean to drop that.” She gets the towel situated and stands again.

“It’s okay. I didn’t mind.”

She’s still blushing, and I can hardly believe it. This is a fucking hardcore heroin addict, for fuck’s sake, and she’s acting like a goddamn virgin or something.

“I should dry off,” she says quickly, stepping back into the bathroom.

“Sure, you do that.”

She slams the door and I turn back to the bed, grinning madly to myself, my cock hard and my blood up.