Morgen’s addiction has led him into some sticky situations in the past. When he’s kidnapped and two hairs away from being a sex slave for the rest of his life, even an addict like him knows it’s time for a change. Lucky for him, he finds help in the most unlikely places.
Creed’s only job is to keep Morgen safe. He’ll do whatever it takes, even if that means keeping his whereabouts secret from his team. What he shouldn’t do is fall for Morgen, but that’s exactly what happens.
Twiggy sniffled and tried to ignore the chills running through his body. He was out of drugs and had been for almost a day. He would need more if he was going to make it. Withdrawals sucked. He should know. He’d been through them before. They’d just never been this bad before, but Sydney’s words from a couple days ago haunted him, mostly because the hitman was right. Twiggy was going die if he didn’t stop. He had a problem. Even knowing what his problem was didn’t stop the desperation from taking hold. Twiggy’s hands shook as he wiped the tears from his eyes.
He stopped in front of the health services building. He put his face up to the window, cupped his hands around the glass, and looked inside. One lonely light was on in the back of a large open room. A long counter separated the waiting area from the health care workers. He didn’t see anyone behind the desk.
He moved back, then turned and leaned against the door. He sank down with his knees up to his chest and started crying.
He needed in there, needed doctors to help him. Maybe they could send him to the rehabilitation clinic, somewhere that would help him fight his addiction. But he needed to go right now, because if he didn’t, he would use again. He’d find Ronnie or someone who had what he needed, and he’d get high. One day he’d never come back from the high, and while that sounded good, he’d never get back to the way he used to be before the drugs took over his life.
If he could just go back in time, then maybe he’d be what he’d been before.
Twiggy took his phone out of his pocket and dialed a number he remembered by heart. He put the phone up to his ear and listened to it ring. When his grandfather answered, he tried to steady his nerves, but just hearing his grandfather’s voice brought so many regrets that Twiggy started sobbing.
“What do you want now,” his grandfather’s harsh voice rang through his head.
“Please. I need help,” Twiggy sobbed. When the line went dead, he sniffled and stuffed the phone back in his pocket. “I’m a piece of shit,” he mumbled.
After standing, he walked down the sidewalk, heading for the only person left that might let him get high without any strings attached. Ronnie was good for a party and might let Twiggy stay with him for a night or two.
Why shouldn’t he get high? Even his family knew he was a piece of shit, so he might as well, right? “Fuck them.”
Ronnie lived just a few blocks over, and Twiggy could walk it well enough. His phone rang when he was just a few blocks away and he answered it absently.
“When are you meeting Sydney Marshall next?” Twiggy’s hands shook when he heard Harvey Guthrie’s voice. The man scared him worse than anything, mostly because Harvey knew he gave Sydney information all the time, and if Sydney thought Twiggy was giving information to his enemies, Sydney wouldn’t hesitate to kill him. Harvey would, too, but he’d make Twiggy into one of his sex slaves first. He could maybe get out of slavery eventually, but death was permanent. Plus, Sydney was fair to him. Sydney might act like an asshole sometimes, but he needed Twiggy.
“He didn’t say.” Twiggy’s fingers started to get cold.
“Sydney wasn’t at the club. You’re giving me false information, and that makes me angry.” Twiggy hung up the phone immediately.
He started running the rest of the way to Ronnie’s apartment.
Twiggy’s hands shook as he dialed Sydney’s number. He sat at Ronnie’s table, waiting for Ronnie to finish using the needle. He needed it, and his eyes widened with desperation as he watched Ronnie do his thing. “Save some for me.”
Ronnie flipped him off, and Twiggy wanted to punch the drugged-out asshole in his stupid head.
When Sydney answered the phone, Twiggy practically cried in relief. “Twiggy.”
“They found out I didn’t turn on you,” Twiggy whispered.
“Where are you?”
His one fear was that Harvey would find him before Sydney could get to him. “Harvey is gonna find me.”
“Where the fuck are you?” Sydney’s harsh tone made Twiggy wince.
“Why the fuck did you go there? That building’s security is a fucking joke, Twig.” Sydney sighed. “Listen to me carefully.” There was a strange pause, and then Sydney asked, “Are you listening?”
Twiggy nodded and then realized Sydney couldn’t see him. Ronnie finished with the needle and let it fall from his fingers when he got a euphoric look on his face and his eyes glazed over. Twiggy whimpered when he realized there wasn’t anything left for him. He stood up and went into Ronnie’s bathroom. He sometimes had prescription pills, so Twiggy looked in the medicine cabinet for anything that would take the edge off. “Yes.”
“You’re going to go to the store on the corner. You know the one I mean?”
“The one that sells crack?” Twiggy took one of the bottles and shook the pills out on the top of the toilet. There were three different kinds and Twiggy just took the one that looked familiar. He popped it in his mouth before walking out of the room. The pill wouldn’t take the withdrawals away, but it would curb some of his cravings. He’d be able to think past it and follow Sydney’s instructions.
“Yeah. Tell Harry I sent you. And then make him give you one of his phones. He’ll know what you mean. He’s gonna bust your balls, Twig, so bring a gun. You’ll need to threaten him.”