Page 31 of Addicted

“Shit,” he muttered.

I followed his gaze and realized what he was looking at. He’d come inside me. No condom.

He looked up at me, his expression unreadable.

“You on birth control?”

I glared at him, still trying to catch my breath.

“I’m on the pill,” I said, my voice sharp. “But you been holding me hostage, so I ain’t been able to take them.”

For a second, something flickered across his face. Concern, maybe, or regret. But then it was gone.

Stone didn’t respond. He fixed his clothes, zipped up his pants, and walked out of the kitchen without another word.

I sat there on the counter, my legs still shaking, my body still humming with the aftershocks of my orgasm.

What the fuck was happening? What were we doing? What was Stone’s endgame?

Was he ever going to let me go, or was I stuck here for the rest of my fucking life?

I didn’t have any answers. All I knew was that I was trapped.

And I didn’t know how to get out.

Chapter 7

Ishmael

The final bell rang and I grabbed my backpack, slinging it over my shoulder as I headed out of the classroom. I kept my head down, weaving through the crowded hallway toward the exit. Kids were laughing, talking shit, making plans for after school like they ain’t have a care in the world. I used to be like that.

Now I felt like I was carrying a weight on my chest that wouldn’t let up.

I pushed through the double doors and stepped outside into the afternoon sun. The parking lot was packed with students heading to their cars or waiting for rides.

And there they were. Stone’s men. Two of them, posted up across the street in a black Escalade with tinted windows. They weren’t even trying to hide. They wanted me to see them, wanted me to know they were watching.

I felt my jaw tighten as I walked down the steps, my hands gripping the straps of my backpack. I didn’t look directly at them, but I could feel their eyes on me.

Every single day.

It had been like this for two weeks now. Ever since they dragged me out of that warehouse and dropped me off at home, telling me to keep my mouth shut and stay the fuck away from the drug game.

They were making sure I did.

I turned left and started walking toward the busstop, my sneakers scuffing against the pavement. My heart was pounding, but I kept my face neutral. Can’t let them see you scared. Can’t let nobody see you scared.

But I was. I was scared as hell. Not for me. For Indie. My sister had been gone for two weeks, and I ain’t heard shit from her. Ain’t seen her. Ain’t talked to her. And it was all my fault.

***

I thought back to the day after they’d let me go.

I’d come home from school that evening, exhausted and anxious, hoping maybe Indie would be there waiting for me. That she’d cuss me out, beat my ass, and then everything would go back to normal.

But when I walked through the door, I knew something was wrong.

There were voices coming from Indie’s room.