Acres, Natalie - Sex Junkie [Cowboy Addiction 1](Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Read online

  Blake shook his head. “Grant, there are too many of them. If you kill Kilo, there will be others. You’re a bigger man than this guy. If you want to beat this thing, you do it the right way. Don’t stoop to a drug dealer’s level and fight with guns or fists.”

  “You’re right,” Grant said, using his sleeve to wipe the sweat off his brow.

  “Are you okay?”

  Grant stared off in the distance. “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t feel any better, do you?”

  “I would’ve felt better if you’d let me kill him.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Morgan cried out in her sleep until Blake shook her awake, hurriedly freeing the cuffs binding her to the bedposts. Trying his best, he brought her out of the hellish entrapment so obviously full of demons and ghosts, soulless creatures, nameless friends.

  “Morgan, honey, shh. It’s okay, baby. I’m here.” Blake rocked her as his arms tightened around her middle. He braced Morgan’s body against his.

  When the sobbing ceased, she looked up as if to gauge the effect she had on him.

  “He was here. Wasn’t he?”

  Blake searched her eyes. Immediately, his gaze averted. He stared out the picture window focusing on the clearing near the large red horse barn. What had she seen? What had she heard? If she’d witnessed Kilo’s beating, would she ever forgive Grant? After thoughtful consideration, Blake was also left to wonder—would Grant forgive himself?

  She moved aside the handcuffs Blake first removed when he entered the room. “Kilo was here. I know he was.”

  “The important thing now is that you’re safe, Morgan.”

  “But he came for me.”

  “He may have come here looking for you, but he’ll never get to you. You don’t have to worry. You’ll never have a conversation with the man again. This is my promise to you. Grant and I will love and protect you until…”

  “Until you decide you don’t want me again?” she asked, bowing her head, studying her clasped hands.

  “It was never like that and you know it. We were young. I was stupid. We both had our share of dreams. I wasn’t sure how mine meshed with yours or yours flowed with mine.”

  “You left me.”

  “I always planned to come back. You know that.”

  “You didn’t return soon enough.”

  “You…” Blake stopped talking all at once. Oh no, he wasn’t playing this game. This was the addict’s way. He’d known several, read about plenty. Their addiction was always someone else’s fault, someone else’s problem—rarely would they own their mistakes, claim the bad choices they’d made.

  “You what?” she pressed.

  They also thrived on making those around them feel guilty as well.

  Blake cupped her chin, tilting her face toward his. “You had Grant, Morgan. You loved Grant, just as much as you loved me. And you still chose drugs over love.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “Morgan, it is. You need to start accepting responsibility for what you’ve done. Your brothers fought for you. They tried their best to make you see what you were doing to yourself. You refused their help. You turned your back on your friends and family. They never abandoned you.”

  “You act like I asked for this addiction by name!”

  “Didn’t you?” he accused. “Did someone hold you down and force you to take pills? Did they shove a pipe between your lips or stick a needle in your arm?”

  She glared at him like she hated him then. “I don’t expect you to understand.”

  “Good,” he said firmly. “Because while I’m willing to help you because I love you, I will never accept that you progressed from casual use to addiction blindly. You knew what you were doing. You didn’t care. You were too selfish to think about the consequences. Well, we’ve all heard about poor Morgan. Now, let me tell you the rest of the story.”

  * * * *

  Maybe Morgan needed to hear his side, but she felt somewhat slighted since he didn’t seem interested in learning more about her story first.

  Still, she made up her mind. She’d listen. She’d pay attention. Maybe she owed them that.

  Blake paced the floor, rubbing his splayed fingers through his hair. “There wasn’t a day that passed that someone didn’t mention your name, attend an event where you were missed, or just make a comment about the future, a future all of us hoped you would enjoy with your family and friends.

  “Many tears were shed. Hours were spent worrying after endless days of trying to find you. Finally, when no one could bear the pain anymore, we all agreed to let you go.

  “We mourned you, grieved as if we’d endured your death, but finally decided if we were going to live full lives, we had to move on.”

  “Sounds like you’d already decided to cut me out of your life completely.” That knowledge stung.

  “You left us no other choice. Remember, you’re the one who chose to use. We didn’t make that decision for you, and we certainly didn’t want to lose sight of our goals and dreams because of the stupid choices you made.”

  “You act as if I purposefully tried to hurt you.”

  “Didn’t you? Weren’t you taught to make decisions for yourself? Weren’t you taught to say no to drugs? Didn’t you know better?”

  “I don’t want to talk about this!” she screamed. “Why don’t you admit I ruined your life?”

  He frowned. “Drug addicts are self-centered, Morgan. I’ve never met one who wasn’t. As much as you might like to think you had the power to ruin our lives, you didn’t. Does that mean I don’t love you? No, of course not. At the same time, you have to realize, I was given one life. I’m in control of how I choose to live that life and I refuse to let you or anyone else dictate how or where I can find happiness.”

  “Do you even love me?” she asked, feeling as if he were talking down to her.

  “You know I do. The question is, do you still have the ability to love me—or anyone else for that matter—in return?”

  * * * *

  Grant was standing over Kilo when he awoke. He’d promised the attending physician, a personal friend of his, that he wouldn’t assault him again. Kilo, for whatever reason, hadn’t pressed charges. When the cops arrived at the Keesling place, Kilo told them he’d fallen from a large oak tree.

  “Did you come to finish the job?” Kilo asked slowly.

  “No. I’m here to give you a verbal warning.”

  An evil laugh fell from Kilo’s lips. “You’re wasting your breath.”

  Grant snarled as he leaned over Kilo’s battered body. “If you ever come near Morgan or her family’s property again, I’ll send you back to Memphis in a body bag. Are we clear?”

  “Crystal,” he said, smirking. “As ice.”

  Grant turned to walk away and had every intention of doing just that until Kilo called after him. “You should’ve killed me when you had the chance. Next time, I won’t tell the cops a large tale. I’ll let them put you behind bars and leave you there. That way, I won’t have you in my way the next time I come for Morgan.”

  “There’d better not be a next time, Kilo.”

  He coughed and then winced, perhaps choking on his threats as much as the pain from several broken ribs. “Like I said, you should’ve killed me while you had a chance.”

  Grant took long strides across the room, plenty of time to contemplate a different action, another option. He yanked the thin pillow from under Kilo’s head and held it in both hands, lowering the soft cushion as Kilo’s eyes widened. “You don’t have it in you to be like me.”

  Grant thought of his brother then. He thought of the other brothers out there, the men and women suffering as they watched their siblings and friends die a slow death, a demise that no one could stop once their loved one started their decline into the world of drugs. He glared at Kilo and finally made his damning choice. “You’re right. I don’t have it in me to be like you.”

  Tossing the pillow aside, he called back over
his shoulder as he walked out of the room, “But I’ll be worse than you if you come near Morgan again. I’ll pump enough rounds in you that you’ll be unrecognizable. Then, I’ll leave you for the vultures, trusting they’ll tear you apart like the court system failed to do.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Grant slipped inside Morgan’s bedroom later that evening with one goal. He planned to make love to Morgan, hold her until she remembered why she once loved him.

  As much as he wanted to relive the history he and Morgan had shared, he refused. So much of their past included Scott—picnics, weekend trips to the mountains, and holiday dinners. In many ways, Grant held on to the past through Morgan, but maybe it was time to let go and look toward tomorrow for new promises and better solutions for old problems. Otherwise, the relationship he wanted rekindled with Morgan would never survive.

  He sat on the edge of the bed, watching Blake and Morgan as they slept. Her small nude frame was nestled against Blake’s much larger one. If the way her arms were clasped around his neck offered any indication, she held on for dear life.

  After a full day at the hospital awaiting an opportunity to leave Kilo with a stern warning, Grant was exhausted. He’d had a lot of time to think. Regrets made a man weak, and until he overcame the guilt he’d been carrying for his brother’s death, Grant wasn’t sure he’d ever be the same.

  Lately, he’d thought about Scott a lot. He’d rarely permitted himself to revisit the past and his kid brother’s final days. The memories were too painful. The guilt often brought on more heartache than he could handle.

  Grant tried to help Scott, but he didn’t take the time to do everything he could. It wasn’t easy managing a drug addict or helping a junkie who didn’t think he had a problem. Eventually, Grant lost hope.

  He gave up too soon.

  Morgan wouldn’t slip away without a fight. They would face numerous battles ahead, but eventually she would see things his way. She’d remember the vibrant life she used to have before drugs. He’d make sure of it.

  Grant tilted his head and watched her eyelashes flutter. Her body jerked and beads of sweat peppered her brow. She must’ve been trapped in another endless nightmare. Instead of waking her, he waited and watched.

  Morgan needed to face her fears in order to overcome them. If they enabled her, if her recovery proved too easy, she’d return to the streets and search for her drugs again. After she willingly agreed to submit to him and Blake, Grant wouldn’t give her the opportunity to return to her old way of life.

  He loved her too much. Morgan deserved the sensational life she still had the potential to lead, and he planned to make her accountable. Together, he and Blake would watch her every move.

  Kicking off his boots, Grant unbuttoned his shirt, leaving the front open. He unhooked the top button on his jeans and thought about undressing altogether. Then again, he should probably wait until he had the opportunity to gauge Morgan’s emotional well-being.

  It had been a long day, and as much as he’d like to have an even longer night, he didn’t have the energy for an all-night training session. He wanted to hold the woman he cherished and love the pain away—his and hers.

  Morgan squirmed out of Blake’s locked arms and opened her eyes as soon as he sat down on the mattress. “Grant?”

  “Yes. It’s me, baby.”

  Lying beside her, he pulled her against his chest, combing his fingers through her silken hair. Her body felt so good next to his. He’d missed this. He’d missed her.

  He stroked her soft skin and as his body reacted to hers, he couldn’t stop the lust building inside. As much as he would like to lie beside her and ease into a special moment of tender lovemaking, he couldn’t help himself. Something about Morgan always stirred the insatiable male living inside him.

  Being next to her made him want to love her hard and wild. He wanted to lose himself inside her body. If for no other reason but to assure himself that she belonged to him again.

  “Is Kilo okay?” she asked, brushing her knuckles across his cheekbone.

  And just like that the recklessness need to possess her came to an abrupt halt.

  He grabbed her wrist and stared into her pretty eyes. What kind of chokehold did Kilo have on Morgan? Why, after everything he’d done to her—things she wasn’t even willing to share or talk about with them—would she care about that thug’s well-being?

  The truth hit him like a ton of bricks. Kilo had access to Morgan’s poison of choice, and unfortunately, until Morgan learned to survive without her drug, Kilo would be part of her life. He would always be her Plan B.

  “She’s been worried about that bastard all night,” Blake explained before Grant went the hell off, and he was mighty close about the time Blake spoke up.

  “Why?” Grant asked, watching Blake curiously as he yawned, stretched, and acted like her inquiries were no big deal. They were a huge fucking problem for Grant. If Blake wasn’t already so smitten by Morgan again, he might have a few issues with Morgan’s compassion for Kilo, too.

  “Don’t ask me,” Blake replied, tilting his head toward Morgan. “One minute she hates him. One minute she loves him.”

  “Is that true?” Grant asked, realizing the love-hate relationship existed because of the drug, not Kilo.

  She shrugged, her bare shoulders breaking free of the white sheet around her. “I just want to be sure he’s okay.”

  “Why?” Grant asked firmly. “I want to know why he matters.”

  “I didn’t want you to kill him,” she retorted. “I didn’t want you to have his blood on your hands. He’s not worth it, Grant. I know you think you can stop him, but he’s part of a gang. There are several drug dealers who work and live with Kilo. Even if Kilo is out of the way, they’ll keep coming. The organization he leads is very aware of my drug debt. His brother would send someone else here in the event of Kilo’s death.”

  “I see,” Grant said, unconcerned with Kilo or who he might send to collect on a debt that would never be paid. By the time Grant discussed Kilo and his friends with Morgan’s brothers, that farm would be harder to traipse across than a mob boss’s lawn.

  Grant’s gaze averted. “Blake? Did you tell her Kilo and I had a scuffle?”

  “You call that a scuffle?” A beat later, Blake added, “I didn’t tell her a thing. She claims she’s so in tune with him that she felt his pain.”

  “That’s insane,” Grant said, quickly adding, “But for the record, Morgan, he would’ve been better off dead.”

  “You don’t mean that.”

  He grated back his fury and a houseful of curse words. With fists tightly drawn, he said, “I assure you, I do.”

  Morgan touched his arm and gently said, “I don’t want to lose you, Grant. You don’t want to lose me. What I feel for Kilo isn’t love. You have no reason to be jealous.”

  “Are you serious?” Grant asked, shaking his head, trying to understand what he might have said or done to make her think he was envious of her dope dealer. “Morgan, Kilo takes lives. He destroys them. I could take his in a minute if I didn’t think I’d be separated from you.”

  “Then why didn’t you?” she asked. “Everyone knows you, Blake, and my brothers have always been above the law. You could’ve gotten away with murder. If you were so hell-bent on taking a life, why didn’t you just pull the trigger and put to rest a damn drug dealer who according to you, doesn’t deserve to live?”

  Morgan was toying with him, and he didn’t like it. “Because, damn it!”

  “Because why?” she asked, raising her voice. “If you can beat the ever-lovin’ hell out of someone, then you have it in you to kill as well. You tell me why you wanted Kilo dead, and then you explain why you spared his life! I need to know if I have a real man in my bed, or another monster hiding behind his name and old family money.”

  “Morgan,” Blake said, attempting to calm her, apparently afraid she’d push the wrong buttons in Grant. Today certainly wasn’t the day for that.

&
nbsp; She shook free of Blake’s grasp and said, “I deserve an answer.”

  Grant narrowed his gaze, impressed by what he saw. The first signs of the Morgan he used to love reappeared out of nowhere. The sensible woman who always possessed the extraordinary ability to make Grant stop and consider his actions, the consequences that potentially followed whatever course or path he chose to pursue, sat next to him with supreme confidence.

  Morgan was slowly coming around. Maybe she didn’t know it yet, but Grant had a feeling she just took a big leap in the right direction. She was standing up for something she believed in, and she deserved to know the truth. Was she going to bed with a man of integrity and honor, or lying down next to another thug who was no better than Kilo or someone of Kilo’s caliber?

  “Say something, Grant,” she encouraged him. “Tell me what’s on your heart. What’s going on in that head of yours? I know you’re hurting. God help me, I’ve seen the pain in your eyes, but you’re not a killer. Are you? Have you turned into someone I can’t reach?”

  “No, of course not,” Grant replied, cursing himself for ever drawing his fist back and punching Kilo in the first place. Had he caused Morgan to doubt him? He swung his gaze toward Blake. Had his actions earlier made others question the man he was because of one fit of rage?

  “Why didn’t you kill him?” Morgan asked the question one last time, finality in every syllable, every word.

  “I made a choice to live with myself. Maybe I could’ve wiped a piece of scum off the face of the earth, but the world wouldn’t have been a better place. Like you mentioned, if you decide later that you want your drugs, there are many others like Kilo out there. You’ll find another dealer if that’s what you want to do. There’s one on every street in every city. I can’t kill ’em all.” A beat later, he added, “And even if I could, Scott isn’t coming back. He’s dead.” He gasped as he acknowledged what he’d tried so desperately to avoid saying, even after all this time.