Page 3 of The Addict

“What?” I inquired, trying to keep my irritation at bay. I gestured towards the blunt. “Want a hit or something?”

“Uh, no,” she mumbled. “I just– sorry for the trouble.”

“No problem.”

Go away, you persistent female. Christ.

“And, um, thank you.”

I waved her off, dismissively. “Don’t worry about it.”

She took a deep breath and turned her back to me. For a moment, she stood still, perhaps contemplating on returning back to converse with me, but then she walked briskly back into the bar.

Thank God.

I knew it was rude to wish that people would disappear, but that woman got on my last damn nerve. She was indecisive and overly confident, when really, she was a 5/10 at best. Me and my joint made the decision to leave the area before she considered coming back.

Chapter two

Mr. Thorne

NOAH

Tonight, I headed home instead of to another bar as per my typical routine. Maybe it was the high, but for some reason I chose to take a back way, one that I seldom crossed. Perhaps, I could reach my destination faster, taking this little shortcut while avoiding humanity.

I was well aware of the dangers that occur in places like alleys at night time, especially around bars, but I was compelled to take this path regardless of the turning feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I shrugged off the unease as nothing. As long as I made it home, I didn’t really care what happened to me along the way. It’s not like I actively looked for trouble; I just sort of attracted it. In a way, I got a rush from potentially dangerous scenarios. That feeling of hairs rising on the back of the neck, never knowing what might happen when turning an unknown corner—I lived for those feelings. Almost like a shot of heroin right to the vein, before you take off the tourniquet—you never know if that’s your last glorious high. You might close your eyes and never wake up. But damn, it feels so good when it’s happening, doesn’t it?

The alley I crossed through was desolate, and the air was heavy with the smell of damp decay. The dim glow of a distant streetlight casted a long shadow across the cracked pavement beneath my feet. Each step I took seemed to echo off the brick walls, reminding me of my isolation.

Generally speaking, I was a man of solitude. Being alone was what I craved, except when it comes to risk and reward. I was a magnet for the sinful, and I was learning to love it.

More so than I would ever love myself.

I was so fascinated with my inner monologue that I didn’t even notice the group of men turn down the end of the alley until they were a few feet away from me. They headed in the opposite direction of me without pause. I continued my pace without stalling or looking up once. I barely made out the low rumble of conversation between them, because I was more interested in the lovely mist clouding my mind and frying my brain cells.

As our paths crossed, one of the men’s shoulders knocked into mine, catching me off guard. I grunted, stumbling slightly to the left as my feet shifted to catch myself. Instantly, my eyes shot up to see who thought they had the right to invade my space. “Watch where you’re going,” I snapped, and my senses perked at the thought of a potential alley brawl.

That’s another thing about me.

My temper.

It took a lot to tick me off, but the right triggers, under the right influence, and you might meet my fist.

And with my family being police, I didn’t stress about arrests. I had been in the back of a police car before. I never stayed long.

“My fault,” the smoothest voice answered and all bodies in motion halted.

After a brief moment of glaring, I realized that the penetrating gaze I matched was of someone I recognized. I placed the joint back between my lips, the trace of smoke twisting up and above my head as I inhaled.

Exhaled.

Silas Thorne stood before me, the young heir of Pinnacle Investments. His eyes were silvery grey flames, not quite blue, and just looking into them gave me a delicious feeling to accompany my buzz. I smirked.

“Ah, hello, Thorne,” I said quietly.

Silas was the twenty-three year old nephew of infamous business mogul, Jace Thorne, who owned over half of the companies in the surrounding area. Because of his stature, Silas was set to inherit the entirety of the corporations owned by Jace upon his death, assuming the role as head of the family and CEO of several of the major companies. I, on the other hand, had an equally wealthy and prominent family, with my father being Chief of Police. Needless to say, Silas’s family was always “complicating” things for my father’s task force, and their constant run-ins with the law and shady stock deals kept our families clashing frequently.