Free Junkie (Broken Doll #1) by Heather C. Leigh

Don’t test my patience, Miri. You came to me , you begged me for help, you entered my fucking house. You want more of my drugs? You need to learn how things are done in this world, doll. If you can’t deal with the consequences of your actions, you shouldn’t have started shooting heroin and you most certainly shouldn’t have come here. Now,” he growled. “…this room will be your new home and if you value your life, you will not question a single word I say.” His grip on my wrists tightened to the point I cried out. By now he was so close, our noses almost touched. “Remember, I don’t owe you shit. If anything, you owe me.”
    Boss gave me one last terror-inducing glare before releasing me and stepping back. He raised a hand and touched one of the scratches on his neck. When he examined his finger and saw blood, his face darkened.
    “That was your one mistake.” He looked down and inspected his clothes. “You’re lucky it didn’t get blood on my suit. Make another mistake and you won’t live to see tomorrow.” Boss spun on his heel, left the room, and slammed the door. The click of the lock sealed my fate.
    My mind was filled with so many questions— Why was he doing this? What did he want from me? How long would I be here? But I couldn’t focus long enough to come up with any answers. I was too busy shaking from head to toe, gasping for air and fighting the tears stinging my eyes.
    What did I get myself into?
    I’d jumped out of Mason’s frying pan, directly into a roaring bonfire named Boss.

4
    Boss
    “ W e have a shipment of five kilos coming in tomorrow. I got ten guys ready to cut and divide. We’ll have it on the streets in two days.” Shade, the guy in charge of my distribution warehouse, updated me on our current product status. Mexican music blared from speakers, cranked up to drown out our voices in case we were being monitored.
    “Good. I want it moved out quickly.”
    “Not a problem, Boss.”
    Shade had been with me long enough to know how I worked. Drugs came in from suppliers in Mexico, who either got it from Colombia, Venezuela, or manufactured it themselves, and we got it the fuck out of our building as fast as possible. Less chance of being caught with it in our possession. It was easy to get a dealer off for carrying a small amount of heroin. Explaining away several million dollars’ worth of product was much more difficult.
    Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as Shade shifted in his chair. He cleared his throat before speaking. “Boss, Two’s sales have been way up.”
    I glanced at Shade, my eyebrows raised. “Really?” Two was one of my laziest, most unmotivated area dealers. He didn’t bother to put pressure on the street dealers beneath him. A sudden increase in sales didn’t make sense.
    “A lot ,” Shade said, giving me a knowing look. I nodded.
    “Put someone on him. I want daily reports.” If Two, aka Thomas Gutierrez, hadn’t backed me up when I took over the city, he would have been out on his ass years ago.
    “Got it, Boss.”
    Any irregular activity, especially with a dealer like Gutierrez, a guy who preferred spending money to working his area, was something to be monitored. We walked through the building and I made sure the operation was running as it should before I left. Some bosses thought they were too good to do hands-on work. They preferred to rule from the luxury of their home, cigar in their mouth and drink in their hand. It was a big mistake to put all your trust in others. Not being involved in the business was a great way to get fucked, either financially or physically. My predecessor was too busy indulging in his product and his women to realize I was plotting to take him over. Until it was much too late.
    Stupid fuck.
    I stopped at several of the businesses I used to launder money, including two antique dealers and a restaurant that had to deal with a surprise raid by the police a week ago. They found nothing, of course. It would