Acres, Natalie - Sex Junkie [Cowboy Addiction 1](Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 4

  “What are you thinking?” Blake asked, studying her face.

  Unaware she’d zoned out, she said, “I was just reliving a memory or two. It’s nothing.”

  “Is it private?” Blake asked.

  “Yes, sort of.”

  “You can’t have secrets from us,” Blake reminded her.

  He was right. In order for them to reconnect on an intimate level, she had to open up and talk to them. If she ever wanted to put the past behind her, she had to let them know what she’d endured.

  “I saw weird things during those first few days.”

  “Weird how?” Blake asked.

  She glanced at Grant. If he had walked down this road of addiction with his brother, he already had a pretty good idea of what she’d endured.

  “There were demons after me,” she explained. “The best way to describe the first few hours would be that I slipped into one of the worst horror movies imaginable. I caught the leading role and was both heroine and villain, doomed to die and destined to live on forever.”

  “What?” Blake asked, arching a brow.

  “Go on,” Grant encouraged her. His eyes held the harrowing truth. Grant had already heard plenty about the devil’s serum. Meth had quite a reputation on the streets, but those who’d experienced the drug through their loved one’s addiction knew the kind of hell “ice” brought down on families and its many users.

  “By the time I got to Nashville, I was sick and sweating bullets. The innkeeper at the motel where I checked in didn’t want to give me a room. I had to beg for one and then allow him access whenever he requested. I guess he thought I was making meth because of my outer appearance.

  “Anyway, by the time I settled in for the night, I was a mess. The room started spinning, the hallucinations began, and I was in a very bad place. I heard voices. I clutched the devil’s hand and saw those who’d sold their souls, but I fought my way out of hell. I could feel the fires consuming me, the way the flames danced at my back, but I knew I didn’t want to die and go to hell. I realized there were people who loved me.

  “I hung on to that. I held tightly to the possibilities that if I made it out of that hotel room alive, I’d never go back and tempt death again.”

  “Then why would you take the drug if someone offered it?” Blake asked.

  “It’s hard to explain. Even though I swore I’d never go back, I’m not out of the woods yet. Every day for the rest of my life, I will crave meth. I’ll want one taste of something better than the last fix I had. Unfortunately, I was a junkie. I was one of the worst of my kind. An endless supply was at my disposal as long as I did whatever Kilo asked of me. In many ways, I should be grateful to Kilo.”

  “What?” Grant asked, nearly coming unglued. “That bastard allowed you to keep injecting nothing but pure poison.”

  “Yes, you’re right. Still, if he hadn’t supplied me with fresh needles, I would’ve been one of those druggies out on the streets looking for one to share.”

  “Oh, Morgan,” Grant rasped.

  “I didn’t. I’d be willing to take a blood test. You know, just to be sure I’m clean.”

  “We want you to do that, anyway. You don’t know where Kilo’s been,” Blake pointed out.

  “We never had unprotected sex.”

  “What about oral?” Grant pried.

  She shook her head. “I know that’s hard to believe but truth is, Kilo liked to fuck, and he liked to screw a lot. That’s all he wanted to do. He was more or less a control freak and he liked making sex a dirty deed. Oral would’ve suggested he wanted intimacy and he assured me over and over again, he didn’t want a romantic relationship.”

  “Was he a Dom?” Grant asked.

  “No, he was just a self-serving bastard who would slip on a condom before he came to bed, grab hold of me, and screw me, generally from behind. He said it was too painful to look into my empty eyes. Then, he’d roll over and go to sleep. Generally, after he got off, he’d tell me where to find my fix. The more we fucked, the more he gave me drugs.”

  “So basically he wasn’t your boyfriend. He was your drug dealer. You swapped favors.” Grant shook his head. His Adam’s apple twitched as he swallowed. “What a sick motherfucker.”

  She shrugged. “I guess you’re right. He wasn’t compassionate, loving, or kind. We didn’t go out. He never wanted me to walk beside him if we left the building together, and he never bought me anything, other than drugs. No, I guess he wasn’t my boyfriend.”

  “Morgan, this is a battle you’ll always have,” Grant said. “You can rely on us for now, but you’ll always have the cravings. You just have to learn to be stronger than the temptation to use again.”

  “I know. A year or so ago, I went to a few meetings in Memphis. I didn’t want to stay on drugs. I just couldn’t get off them.”

  “You may not see it now, but when Kilo kicked you out, it was the best thing that could’ve happened to you,” Blake said.

  “I realize that, too,” she agreed. “If he hadn’t asked me to leave, I would’ve stayed right there until I either overdosed or the police busted Kilo.”

  “Do you want to talk about anything that happened with Kilo?” Grant asked.

  “No,” she replied. A second later, she changed her mind. “Yes.”

  “He beat you, didn’t he?” Grant asked.

  “Yes. Kilo was very violent.”

  Grant’s eyes turned as cold as ice. He looked away from the bed and clenched his fists. “Then I guess it’s time for me to give Mr. Kilo a call. There are a few things I’d like to say to him.”

  “No, you can’t.”

  “Yes I can, and I will. Where’s your phone?”

  “You don’t understand,” Morgan said, grasping at a lost cause. “If you contact him, the only thing you’ll do is provoke him.”

  “He should worry about agitating me,” Grant said, steadfast in his pursuit for her cell. “Damn it, Morgan. Where’s your purse?”

  She swallowed hard. Her eyes darted to a nearby chair piled high with her clothing.

  “Here?” he asked, tossing aside panties, bras, jeans, and shirts. When Grant reached the bottom of her dirty laundry, stark determination marked his face as he fished her phone out of her purse. “From now on, when I ask you a question, you provide an answer or face the punishment.”

  “If you call him, he will kill me.”

  “Bullshit!” Grant screamed, rushing the bed. Morgan twisted against the ties binding her. He was in her face, pointing his finger within an inch of her nose. She stilled against his fury, understanding he wouldn’t listen now. His anger drove him. Tightly drawn cords pulsed in his neck. “You listen to me, woman, and you listen well.

  “You are a precious human being. Regardless of the poor choices you’ve made, Blake and I still love you. That said, whether we loved you or not, you’re our best friends’ sister. You’re a woman. No one has the right to abuse you.”

  Morgan looked at her hands. “Untie me.”

  “No.”

  “Then what makes you any different than Kilo?”

  “You know the answer to that,” Grant retorted, backing away. “I love you and would never hurt you.”

  “Kilo may have loved me, too.”

  “Like hell he did!” Blake interjected. “Love isn’t a serum, Morgan. It isn’t the juice for a junkie, and you damn well realize I’m telling you the straight of things.”

  “At one time, Kilo loved me.” Morgan was holding on by a thread. Grant couldn’t call Kilo. If Grant minded his own business, maybe someday she and Kilo could reconcile long enough to make a few deals when absolutely necessary.

  “You’re afraid of losing Kilo altogether. If you don’t have him, where will you go when the cravings intensify? Hmm? When you need just a small fix to tide you over, what will you do?” Grant taunted her.

  Oh God, she was slipping again and Grant apparently recognized her inevitable fall. The angst of desiring her drug all over again sent her reeling. “I
want to leave. Now!”

  “You ain’t going anywhere, doll,” Blake told her.

  “I want to talk to Kilo!” she screamed, jerking against the ties confining her.

  “Really? A few minutes ago, you were convinced he’d kill you. So which is it, hmm?” Grant demanded. “Are you afraid of Kilo, or is that a bunch of baloney? Are you trying to milk us for money so you can hurry on back to Kilo and make nice with him again?” A beat later, he said, “From what you’ve told us, even if you go back with the money you owe him, he won’t let you stay. Then what will you do, huh?”

  “I’m not discussing Kilo with you again. While the two of you were sharing women and living high on the farm, I was out there on the city streets. Kilo took me in, so he obviously wasn’t as bad as I may have portrayed him. I always had a roof over my head. Without Kilo, I would’ve been living out of dumpsters.”

  “Wouldn’t that have made your parents proud if they were alive to see you today?” Grant asked.

  Morgan bowed her head. “They obviously aren’t here to judge me.”

  “You wouldn’t care if they were,” Grant said. “Let me ask you something, Morgan. While you were flat on your back, getting the hell pounded out of you by that man’s fists or his cock, what were you thinking, hmm?

  “Were you considering how thankful you were to have a roof over your head? Were you thinking about how good it felt to have him buried inside you? Or were you thinking like the junkie you were—wondering how long it would take for him to get off so you could pump that shit into your veins and forget everything—his name, your own, and even us?”

  Her eyes watered and she shook her head. “Stop.”

  “No. I’m just getting warmed up, and I’ll never stop holding you accountable for the choices you made. You didn’t love Kilo. He didn’t love you. The two of you used one another. Now, he’s thrown you out like garbage—your words, not mine—and he expects you to pay him for the drugs he more or less fronted you.”

  “Yes, but heroin and meth are expensive. You don’t understand. I cost him a lot.”

  “Good grief, Morgan! Wake the hell up!” Grant yelled. “You don’t have the capacity to understand this right now, but Kilo didn’t do you any favors, honey. You say you cost him? What the fuck do you think he did for you, huh? The way I see it? You don’t owe him a damn penny!”

  “Grant is right,” Blake said. “He stripped you of your self-esteem, robbed you of your well-being, and then stuck you with a bill for the poison he watched you put in your veins. Doesn’t sound like love to me, Morgan.”

  “You don’t understand,” Morgan said softly.

  “Oh yes I do. One minute you love Kilo, the next minute you fear him. If we weren’t with you now, you’d run back to Memphis and offer to suck his cock in front of the whole damn city if he’d get you high. Don’t tell me I don’t understand. I see the whole picture. Believe me. Want me to tell you how this story will end if I don’t scare Kilo away?”

  “That’s enough, Grant,” Blake said.

  “Uh-huh,” Grant muttered. “I won’t let you do this, Morgan. You will see Kilo for what he is. He’s no good. He’s a drug dealer which means he is a murderer toting around the deadliest of weapons. He takes lives. He destroys them and then profits from that devastation. Now, Kilo and I will have a little chat. I’ll explain what will happen to him if he doesn’t let you go once and for all, and then that will be the end of Kilo.”

  She glared at the ceiling, refusing to look at either of them. “If you call Kilo, it may be the end of you. And one way or the other, your interference will be the death of me.”

  Chapter Four

  “Why didn’t Grant want me to overhear him talking to Kilo?” Morgan asked.

  “He probably threatened him,” Blake replied. Probably, hell. The threat was a given. “For some reason, he’s under the misguided impression that you would never think of him as a hard-ass.”

  She laughed at that.

  A few minutes later, Grant walked in her bedroom and tossed her cell phone on a nearby bedside table. “We understand one another.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  Grant frowned. “In a nutshell? I said I’d kill him if he ever came looking for you, and I told him how to find me if he wants to discuss this further. He has turn-by-turn directions from Memphis to Blountville. He won’t even need GPS.”

  “What?” she screeched. “Are you out of your mind?”

  “No,” he replied. “I just wanted to be sure we understand one another.”

  “He’ll come here.”

  “I doubt it. Drug thugs like Kilo won’t face off with real men who don’t abuse their women, Morgan. He might wish all sorts of things. Perhaps he’ll throw around a few threats, but when it comes right down to it, Kilo is a bully. He damn sure doesn’t have the balls to face off with me or Blake. And Kit and Kemper would slaughter the sorry son of a bitch.”

  “Kilo isn’t a bully, Grant. I’ve seen what he’s done to other people who’ve crossed him.”

  “Do I look scared, Morgan?” Grant asked. He pointed at Blake and said, “Neither one of us are afraid of much when it comes to protecting you.”

  “You’re crazy if you believe he’ll stay away because of a cowboy’s threat. Several months ago I tried to detox on my own. It was awful. I had hallucinations and endless nightmares. When I woke up, Kilo asked me who Grant and Blake were and what they meant to me. When I told him you were ex-boyfriends, a series of beatings began. He rewarded me in the end after I told him where you lived.” She gasped as she covered her mouth with her small hand. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Why are you sorry?” Grant asked. “I just told you, I gave him directions myself.”

  “Yes, but that was your choice. I made a decision to swap information that might have cost you your lives.”

  “We’re still here,” Grant assured her. “No harm done. Like I said, I want him to come and find me. I look forward to the meeting.”

  Blake immediately sat beside her, stroking her cheek. “Morgan, what else did you tell him?”

  She shook her head, the tears flooding her face. “Please let me go. I need to get out of here. Maybe if I run, he won’t come here. I’ll call him and see if I can go home. He might give me a second chance.”

  Grant’s nostrils flared. “A second chance? Are you serious, Morgan?”

  “You’re not going anywhere,” Blake told her, shaking his head quickly at Grant, hoping he’d let him handle Morgan for the time being. “Honey, this is your home. Right here with me, Grant, Kit, and Kemper. Don’t you see, Morgan? You’ve been running all this time, but you haven’t been returning home, you’ve been sprinting right back into the deadly clutches of a drug you can’t seem to leave behind.”

  “You don’t understand. He’ll come here for sure. He’ll find me. He’ll kill you because you have me!”

  “He’ll go through an army first,” Blake told her. “If he comes here, Morgan, we will shoot to kill.”

  “He will, too! Don’t you understand? I don’t want this! I couldn’t bear it if Kilo killed you because of me.”

  “Can you live with yourself if you know you’re the reason Kilo dies or goes to prison?” Grant asked.

  She swallowed hard. After a seemingly long consideration, she finally said, “I honestly don’t know.”

  Grant shrugged. “Then I guess you need to take a moment and figure that out. If you believe he’ll come here, and you must, you need to prepare for the worst. If Kilo arrives in East Tennessee, whether he’s here tomorrow or the next day, he will leave one of three ways—in a body bag, on a stretcher, or in handcuffs.”

  * * * *

  “She’s finally asleep,” Blake said, meeting Grant on the front porch.

  “Did she talk you into loosening the cuffs?” Grant asked.

  “Not a chance,” Blake told him. “There was enough slack. A half-inch more and she would’ve wiggled her way to freedom.”

  Grant ran his
hand over his face. “What we’re doing here will be more like training a slave than a sub.”

  “That’s what she needs,” Blake assured him, unable to feel an ounce of guilt.

  “Are you sure you’re up for that?” Grant asked, his brow furrowing.

  “We won’t abuse her. We’ll train her like any other sub we’ve shared. We’ll keep her under control. If we’re not with her, she will be bound to that bed. You and I both know if we give her too much leeway she’ll start using again. She was shooting up meth and Lord only knows what else. If she’s given the chance, she’ll do drugs again.”

  “You’re upset because I drew out the addict again.”

  “No,” Blake replied thoughtfully. “I would’ve preferred a different tactic, but I understand what you were doing.”

  Grant stared off in the distance. “Before someone comes along to tempt her again, we need to show her all the reasons she has to live a full life. If she’s happy and in love, she’ll say no whenever the temptation presents itself.”

  “No. That’s not entirely true. An addict has feelings just like anyone else. She could love us like the dickens, be living a full life and happier than she’s ever been, and then bam! Just like that, she’s hooked again. The best way to beat this is through Domination and submission, or a Dom-slave relationship, which I’d prefer. She needs to be so dependent on us that she relies on us to make every decision for her.”

  “So you’re hell-bent on training her as a slave.”

  “Damn straight.”

  Grant sat there motionless and silent. Lost in apparent deep thought, he finally said, “The biggest thing I worry about is Morgan’s psychological well-being.”

  “I’ve thought about that,” Blake said. “After you and I first talked about sharing Morgan if she ever came home, I researched how addiction should be handled in a Domination and submission or slave relationship.