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Now I sounded like Milo. Shit. I really needed a diversion.
I stepped inside the enormous garage and surveyed my babies, all the various cars and motorcycles gleaming under the lights. My eyes landed on my favorite, the 1986 Suzuki RG500 Gamma, a red, white, and blue beauty I acquired last year after an excruciating price war with its original owner. I skimmed my fingers across the sleek back end, followed where the padded seat dipped in the center, and slid my hand back up over the fuel tank to the stout handlebars.
Just what the doctor ordered. A distraction. I grabbed a rag and some cleaner and got to work.
Miri
When Boss left the room, I let out the breath I had been holding. It was clear he didn’t know I observed him and his men from the large window in the sitting room. Hidden behind a heavy curtain, I watched as he brutally worked over my would-be rapist right in plain sight on the front drive. Boss certainly didn’t know he shouted so loud, I heard him declare me his “property,” a word that both repulsed and thrilled me simultaneously.
The attack in the garden was horrifying and opened my eyes to just how vulnerable I was here. It was one thing to exchange sexual acts for favors, like drugs or rides or money. When it was my choice to accept or decline. It was a whole other thing to be held down and taken against my will, something I had been lucky to have escaped so far. After Boss passed over several offers of sexual favors from me, it never crossed my mind that anyone in Boss’s employment could or would resort to rape.
Boss saved me. I knew that. Had he not shown up when he did, I was certain the man with the psychotic brown eyes and impossible strength would have taken what he wanted and left me lying broken on the flat stone path, most likely covered in blood and bruises after he administered a thorough beating when he was done using my body to get off.
Right as I gave up hope, resigned to my fate, he appeared, like a superhero or medieval knight. Boss dispatched the man quickly and efficiently, handing him off to his men to deal with. At the last minute, Boss seemed to change his mind. He spun around and , I watched him kill the guy right on his driveway. The scene didn’t upset me like it should. No. I was as sick and twisted as Boss, because I was flattered that the powerful man killed for me. Used his own hands to take the life of my attacker.
It should have bothered me that a man was going to die because he dared to lay hands on me. Should have made me nauseated and frightened. The feral look in Boss’s eyes as his hand squeezed down on the guy’s throat should have scared me to tears. Yet I felt none of that. After six months with Mason, half spent on the streets when he wasn’t around, I was sick and tired of men who wanted the same thing. It always came down to sex. Always. Even before Cat left her house she was the victim of repeated unwanted sexual assaults by her stepdad.
I touched my shoulder, the skin still tingling from his fingertips, and replayed Boss’s words in my head.
“You don’t deserve to touch a woman like Miri.”
“Miri is mine.”
The recollection, the absolute power and authority in Boss’s voice as he warned his men away, and the gorgeous yet enraged look on his face, blood tri
ckling down his arm and all over the sleeve of his suit, made me shiver in delight. The more I learned about Boss, the more I wanted to know. He was a complete enigma. What kind of drug lord took in a heroin addict, gave her drugs, locked her up, then bought her clothes, protected her from a sexual assault, and expected nothing in return? Except… Nicky’s words hit me hard again.
“There’s no free in this game.”
Despite Boss’s mostly decent behavior so far—if I didn’t count the first couple days when he was a total asshole, oh, and the murder he committed—I knew Nicky was right. Eventually, Boss was going to expect payment. But what would he demand? I wiped my sweaty brow with a clammy hand, a side effect of the heroin.
“Miri is mine.”
Was it Boss’s intent to keep me here like a slave? Was he waiting for me to clean up and not look like a wasted, scarred, strung-out junkie before he made his wishes known? Maybe he didn’t find me attractive and that was why he hadn’t pressed for sex yet?
My head throbbed and my nerves were frayed. It was only late afternoon, but I couldn’t think anymore today. I rolled to my feet and trudged up the elegant staircase to the bedroom designated as mine for the time being. Without giving today’s events any further thought, I collapsed on the soft mattress and was asleep within seconds.
* * *
I woke to a strange, prickly feeling on the back of my neck.
Someone was watching me.
My pulse thrummed and I swallowed down my nerves. I shuffled into a sitting position and turned to face the bedroom door. It was empty. In fact, the door was still closed. Exactly how I left it yesterday after listening to Boss tell everyone I was his property. I still didn’t know how to feel about that. Part of me was disgusted to be treated like a piece of furniture, but a part was thrilled that a dominating, sexy man like Boss laid such a primitive claim on me. I should probably have myself checked into a mental hospital for worrying about Boss and his claim instead of worrying about watching a man get murdered yesterday but whatever.
Tired despite getting plenty of sleep, I rubbed at my eyes and slid off the soft bed. The part in the curtains let in a sliver of pale gray light. When I pushed the heavy fabric to one side, I gasped at the sheer beauty of the view. A lake stretched as far as I could see into the dark sky of the east. Pink and gold light peeking from the horizon glittered across the water as the sun rose behind the house.
How long has it been since I appreciated something as simple as a sunrise?
So long, I couldn’t remember the last one I watched. Maybe I’d never seen a sunrise. I couldn’t be sure. Excited about something for the first time in months, I pulled on a pair of leggings, slipped into a wide-necked sweatshirt that slid down one shoulder, and stuffed my feet into a new pair of flip-flops, all courtesy of Boss. When I reached the bedroom door, my steps faltered. It was open. Not much. In fact, it was hardly noticeable. The crack was just wide enough to know that someone had been watching me, because I knew without a doubt I shut the door all the way when I went to bed.
Should I stay in my room? Should I tell Boss? Should I sneak out and run away?
I had no clue what to do. All I knew was right that second, I was determined to see the sunrise. Stubborn enough to ignore my instincts, I lifted my chin, put on my best “I’m not afraid of you” face, and stepped out into the hall, grateful to find it empty.
“Jesus.” I exhaled a shaky breath.
Maybe I’m imagining things?
