Free Violet Addiction by Kirsty Dallas Page A

from behind. My mouth slipped open to protest, my words once again silenced as Flip slipped his length onto my tongue. I coughed as he pushed hard and deep. “Breathe through your nose,” he commanded, his words demanding and callous. A single tear escaped the corner of my eye as my body continued to be used. Whore , whispered through my mind. I was once again using my body to buy the drugs it sought, and that said body betrayed my inner turmoil as it exploded with an orgasm under the hands of these two strangers. The shame, the abject horror of what was happening, and how far I continued to fall tainted me further. Surely I had hit rock bottom by now. I couldn’t imagine how I could fall much further. I had shred every ounce of humanity I could possibly ever possess.

 
     

     
    “Open your eyes, Violet.” The voice held such command I almost opened them, the voice familiar yet not. I was too tired, so very tired, so very sick, so very empty. I was exhausted, but even in sleep I didn’t feel restful. My unconscious mind stirred with anxiety and unease. Something hurt, everything hurt. So much pain. I shied away from awareness and retreated to the safety of darkness. I tried to ignore the way my body ached, my skin flaming with so much heat and sensitivity I wanted to scream, yet I couldn’t find the energy to open my mouth. Fear of the unknown had me crawl back into the cushion of unconsciousness, ignoring the vocal command to do the opposite.
    When I opened my eyes again, it was with groggy difficulty. My eyelids protested heavily, flickering open once, then falling shut again. I floated into an abyss, somewhere between wakefulness and sleep, images in my mind lazy and blurred. I was curious about the time, hungry, and I needed to pee. My body gradually roused me, and I tried to open my eyes again. The light speared my vision like a painful arrow, and I groaned under the onslaught of a too bright room. I always went to sleep with the blinds drawn, preferring to sleep late into the morning. Cain had a habit of pulling them open and forcing me to face the ungodly hour of sunrise. It was a game to Cain, to prod the beast that dwelled under my skin before a reasonable hour, and today, my head pounded with ungodly persistence. I was not in the mood to play.
    “Pull the damn blinds closed, Cain,” I managed through lips that felt thick and dry. God, my mouth was dry, so dry I wondered if I would find sand on my tongue.
    “Violet?” The whispered voice, however familiar, was not the one I was expecting.
    “Harry?”
    “Oh shit, honey, let me call the doctor.” Doctor? I forced my lids open once again, and my eyes watered under the bright light. “Shhh, just relax. You’re safe. You are in a hospital now. You scared the shit out of me, Violet. I swear to god, as soon as you are well enough to sit on that ass of yours, I’m gonna flip you over and spank the ever loving shit out of you.” Despite the confusing circumstances and heavy pain that seemed to rest in every part of my body, I smiled. I tried to open my eyes again, and this time it wasn’t quite as difficult. Around the watery vision and bright light, I managed to take in my surroundings.
    “Hospital?” I murmured. Just then a middle aged man with a head of thick, grey hair and almost comical bushy grey eyebrows entered the room. He wore a white coat, two pens in the front pocket. His smile was warm and concerned.
    “Miss Trivoli, nice to have you back in the land of the living.” I attempted to laugh, wondering just how damn big my bender had been, when my effort was brought up short due to the pain that lanced my chest. “Rest easy, Miss Trivoli, you’ve had a difficult week.” Week? The doctor began to check over my body with obvious concern.
    “Week?” I said in a husky, unpracticed voice.
    “I’ve been told you were brought in by a young man named Ben, no last name. You overdosed. I am going to take a look at your chest if you don’t