Once she’s done swallowing my load, I gently pet her head, leaving her gasping on the floor.
“Good girl.”
She’s still catching her breath as I zip up, half-expecting her to throw herself at me and beg me to stay again. But I needn’t have worried - I taught the girl well.
She smiles at me gratefully, muttering, “Thank you for breaking me in for him, Master.”
“You’re welcome.” I smile. “Make me proud, toy.”
I shut the door behind me and lock her inside.
It was our last meeting, and I trust it was memorable enough for the toy to go home an obedient slut. If she ever steers off her path though, I’ll be here to break her in again - as many times as it takes, though I haven’t had the same toy twice since my first… what a disaster that was. But I was just learning back then, but now, I take a month, tops, to train a girl. And this one was no exception.
As I walk into my office, I check the calendar app on my phone, smirking.
It’s been twenty-eight days, and she’s ready to go back. I’ve won my bet with Liberato.
I walk into the office and narrow my eyes, seeing my partner’s desk is empty. He isn’t usually late, so I’m assuming there’s some kind of problem. Yet my mood doesn’t wear off.
I dig in my desk to find a small bottle and a fresh injection. Tearing off the wrapping, I load up the injection with the transparent liquid from the bottle. Pushing it into my vein is routine by now, and I barely grit my teeth as I release the drug into my system.
Leaning back in my office chair, I draw in a deep breath. My eyes flutter closed as images flash in my mind, reminding me of all the things I’ve lost.
My parents.
My uncle, who betrayed me.
Rain.
Over the eight torturous years I spent battling for my place in the world, I have forgotten a lot about her. But her name remains, accompanied by the feel of her golden hair beneath my fingertips, and those eyes staring up at me, the taste of our kiss still living on my lips.
It hits me like a gunshot, that taste, that smell. Dirty, exotic vanilla explodes on my tongue, filling me with the memory of that moment as the drug kicks in.
But then it’s gone as suddenly as it appeared, leaving nothing but a bittersweet taste in my mouth.
Where the fuck is Liberato? I have important shit to do, and now I’m high as all hell. If he doesn’t come soon, I’ll have to head to our meeting alone.
The door opens at that moment, and my friend comes inside, muttering curse words under his breath.
“Where were you?”
“Relax,” he grunts. “I’m barely ten minutes late.”
“Seventeen,” I point to the clock on the wall. “What kept you?”
“The Dragon cartel.”
“Don’t we have a meeting with them in an hour?”
“I just spent forty-five minutes convincing them not to cancel it.”
“Why do they want to cancel it?”
Liberato shrugs.
“The leader doesn’t want to show his face.”
I scoff, saying, “You know I don’t do business without looking my opponent in his eyes.”
“It will not be possible this time.”
“Then the deal is off the table.”
“Are you fucking kidding me, Heath?”
His eyes bore into mine.
“I already agreed to meet with one of their Sicarios. You’d better go along with this.”
“No deal.” I shake my head. “I want their leader or nothing.”
“So what do we do?”
“Not go.”
I lean forward with a devilish smile.
“Send a message that way. Once they call - and they will - tell them we’re only meeting the leader face-to-face.”
“It might be our fucking funeral,” Liberato mutters. “But fine, whatever you want.”
He rarely goes up against me, but I can tell he’s tempted this time. But Liberato swallows his protests and makes the call while I wait, pouring myself some booze. I turn my back to my friend and add a white powder to the glass, quickly mixing it up and hoping Liberato hasn’t noticed.
No such luck.
“That shit’s going to kill you.”
“I’d rather die at the peak of my life than at my lowest,” I tell him with a smirk, downing the now milky amber liquid in one go. “You want some?”
“No,” he grunts in response.
“You know, I admire that you’ve gotten clean, but it makes you rather fucking boring.”
He stares me down hard until I chuckle before saying, “I’m serious, Heath. You need to quit the drugs. They’ve fucked with your head for so goddamn long now.”
“I don’t want to,” I reply, a bite to my voice. “Stop trying to make me do shit. You’re not helping.”
“Fine, man.”
He shakes his head and I can tell exactly what he’s thinking without him so much as opening his mouth.
“Your funeral.”
He thinks I’m a failure.
We dug our way out of the cage fights. We became leaders of the Serpent cartel. We brought ourselves up in ranks when everyone thought we were as good as dead. And while Liberato got off the drugs, they used to pump us full of, I never did, and I don’t intend to. I love the rush too much. I can tell that’s what Liberato is thinking about as he faces me with a stern expression.