Page 26 of Addicted

When the room was empty, Kenzo walked over to me, his expression a mix of surprise and annoyance.

“Damn, my nigga, I ain’t even had a full twenty-four hours to look into Wes and you already pressing him?”

“You ain’t see how he couldn’t even look me in the eye?” I asked. “That nigga is guilty as fuck, Zo.”

“I need more time to feel him out. I just don’t think he the one. Let me get solid proof before we murk one of our best soldiers. I’m working on it.”

“Work faster,” I said.

Kenzo was quiet for a moment, then he spoke again. “I heard you had some niggas box up Indie’s shitfrom her condo.”

I looked at him, my jaw tightening. “So?”

“So how long you planning on keeping this freaky shit up?” he asked.

I glared at him.

“Stop worrying about my dick,” I said, my voice sharp. “And figure out who gave them niggas the drop.”

Kenzo just shook his head and waved me off, a small smirk on his face.

“Aight, man. Whatever you say.” As he walked out, I could hear him singing that Kendrick Lamar shit under his breath,“Freaky-ass nigga, he a sixty-nine God. Hey, hey, hey, hey, run for yo’ life.”

I almost chuckled at his silly ass.

When he was gone, I stood there in the empty warehouse, my hands in my pockets and stared at the stacks of cash on the table.

Indie had my head fucked up and I didn’t understand why.

I wasn’t the type of nigga to get caught up over a woman. I’d fucked plenty. Beautiful women, women with status, women who would do anything I asked. But none of them had gotten under my skin like Indie.

There was something about her. The way she looked at me with no fear. The way she talked shit even when she knew I could kill her. The way her body responded to mine.

I couldn’t shake her, and that was dangerous. Because in my line of work, attachments were weaknesses. And weaknesses got you killed.

But I wasn’t ready to let her go.

Not yet.

Chapter 6

Indie

It had been two fucking weeks since I offered myself to Stone in exchange for Ishmael’s life.

Two weeks of the same goddamn routine, day after day after day. I’d wake up alone in that big ass bed, the sheets cold on Stone’s side because he was always gone before I opened my eyes. I’d lay there for a minute, staring at the ceiling, wondering if today would be the day he’d let me go.

It never was.

Then I’d drag myself to the bathroom, shower, brush my teeth with one of the toothbrushes he’d stocked the place with. The hot water would feel good on my skin, but it couldn’t wash away the reality of my situation. I was a prisoner. A sex slave. Just there for Stone’s pleasure.

After the shower, I’d go downstairs to the kitchen. The day after he’d brought my boxes of belongings, I’d discovered it was now fully stocked with groceries. Eggs, bacon, bread, fruit, snacks, everything I could need. I wasn’t sure when he’d had someone do it, but it was done.

I’d make myself something to eat, usually just toast, oatmeal, or a bowl of cereal because I didn’t have the energy for anything more complicated. Then I’d sit in the living room and watch TV all damn day.

Netflix, Hulu, HBO Max... whatever I could find to keep my mind occupied and stop me from losing myshit completely.

Some days I’d watch reality shows. Love & Hip Hop, Real Housewives, anything with drama that wasn’t my own life. Other days I’d binge entire seasons of shows I’d never had time to watch before. Anything to pass the hours until Stone came back.