Free Deliverance (The Maverick Defense #1) by L.A. Cotton, Jenny Siegel

lip and dragged it down. “You. Are Mine.” He leaned in close, brushing my cheek with his lips. “Don’t forget who owns you, Joy.”
    He threw the bag down onto the desk, pressed a hard kiss to my lips, and withdrew his body. I crumpled down onto the floor as I watched Donnie leave the room. He strolled out in his perfectly tailored suit as if it was just another day at the office. My eyes squeezed shut in an attempt to stop the tears from falling.
    Minutes later, the door creaked open, and Sherri’s form appeared in the frame. “Joy, darlin’, are you okay?”
    Head lowered, I shook it back and forth. Sherri rushed over to me and dropped to her knees, enveloping me in her thin arms. “There, there. Don’t cry. Don’t give him the satisfaction, darlin’.”
    I swiped at the black river staining my cheeks. Sherri smiled weakly; it wasn’t the first time she’d witnessed this. She’d found me like this one too many times. But never had I felt like this. Dawson’s return had thrown me for a loop—spun my world on its axis and left me reeling.
    He isn’t supposed to be here.
    “He wasn’t supposed to come back, Sherri.” I sighed.
    “I know. Lord knows, I know. But he’s here, and darlin’, he looked ready to kill when he saw you ready to get up on that stage.”
    Shame stabbed through me again. At one time, Dawson Spencer was my everything—my world—and he’d just watched me teeter on the edge of giving Donnie DeLuca the last shreds of my soul. And for what? Because I was too scared, too desperate, to stand up to him.
    Foolish girl, you don’t stand up to Donnie DeLuca. Nobody does.
    “What the hell am I supposed to do now? What do I do?” It wasn’t a question for Sherri. There was no answer. I belonged to Donnie. He owned me. Dawson’s return changed nothing.
    It changes everything.
    Sherri pulled us both up and brushed off her skintight pants. Her eyes zeroed in on something behind me and her eyebrows knitted together. “You stop using that shit, for starters.”
    “Sherri-”
    “No, Joy. Listen up and listen good. I know you had it bad after he left. What with your grandma and losing the house, but this …” She snatched the baggy off the table and thrust it in my face. The reality of my life stared back at me. “This shit is not the answer.”
    Silent tears fell freely now. I couldn’t stop them if I tried. Couldn’t she see that, in a strange way, getting high was my salvation? It blocked out the pain, the darkness. For a brief moment in time, it allowed me to be free.
    “I- I need it.” I stared at my friend begging her to understand.
    Her frown deepened. “For fuck’s sake, Joy, listen to yourself. This is not the answer. Get help. Go see Doc Anderson and get a script. Do something. Anything. This …” She waved the bag again. “This is skewing things, messing with your head. He’s back, Joy. Dawson is back. He can help.”
    “No! No!” I rushed out. “He can never know. I can’t, he wouldn’t, no. Promise me you won’t tell him. Promise me.” I reached out for Sherri’s blouse. “You have to promise me.”
    Sherri sighed heavily and wrapped an arm around my shoulder, drawing me to her. “Okay, okay, I promise. But, darlin’, you need help. This shit will destroy you.”

    The rest of the night passed in a blur. After breaking down on Sherri, I forced the baggy into her hand and told her to get rid of it. Tonight, I would remain clean—from that shit, at least. But I needed something else to take off the edge and help me make it through the rest of the night. I chose vodka coolers. Lyla joined us and the three of us spent a couple of hours at the bar letting Shaun keep our glasses topped off while Shakers came to life around us. Girls rotated around the podiums dancing for men from every corner of Chancing. Donnie didn’t approach me again, but I felt his eyes on me. A couple of the other girls joined us and we moved things over to one of the corner booths,