Page 22 of His Vicious Desire

Dim fragments of memory that feel like they happened years ago are tumbling around in my head as I try to remember even coming in here.Gaetano holding me while I cried.The way those usually hard black eyes were so soft as I told him about the woman in the bookstore.Then I was in my dorm room, and he was a dick and rushed me to get my stuff.Somehow, we were here again, and he made me a bean and cheese burrito I ate while I started floating.

And the final memory, Gaetano admitting what he did.Drugging me in case he needed to keep me here to hand me over to Sandro… Oh my fucking god.Gaetano drugged me.I cannot believe him.How could he do that when I trusted him?

I think that’s what hurts the most.Gaetano’s loyalty to Sandro came before me.There shouldn’t be any pain—it was stupid.Of course, he’s going to do what he thinks is better for Sandro than me.I don’t care, it still hurts.

Without thinking, I’m scratching my neck.As my nails leave a mark, I see the skin is red from how strongly I was scratching.No, oh damn it.It’s back with a vengeance.And I need it, or I need a gummy right fucking now.

Damn, Gaetano.Throwing off the sheet and thick comforter, I find I’m in what I wore yesterday.Gross.I usually can’t sleep without taking a shower at night.Another mark against Gaetano.I swear to god, I’m getting clean, and then I’m never going to see the smug fucker ever again.

I find him on the recliner in front of the television, reading like he’s got nothing better to do.I’m stunned by how badly I want to strike out at him, not only verbally but physically.“You bastard.I hate your fucking guts, and I’m never going to forgive you for what you did to me.”

One lone eyebrow goes up.“And what did I do exactly?”

“You drugged me, and you got me hooked on THC.How could you do that when I came to you for help?”

His sigh is one of suffering, and the urge for violence won’t leave me.“You are not hooked on THC.It isn’t something you're going to be dependent on, like the speed you were taking.Once the withdrawal is over, you won’t want a gummy again.You want it now because you know you can’t have the other shit—that’s all it is.Whether you want to believe it or not, I was trying to help you.Now, do you want a gummy to calm your ass down or not?”

I don’t trust him.As badly as I want a gummy, I don’t think it’s safe to take one from him.He’s also so very wrong.Who the fuck wouldn’t want to float away rather than be stuck dealing with all the angst, pain, and bullshit that comes with being stuck here?

Another sigh from him and I can’t stop from taking a swing at him.Before I get within a foot of him, he’s got me up in his arms, my back to his front.

“Let me go, you fucker.”I’m yelling as I struggle against his hold.Hating him and myself for wanting to give up fighting and just cling to him with every muscle in my body.

“Not until you calm down.Here, take it.This is unopened, still factory-sealed, fifty milligrams worth in only five milligrams per gummy.So, a full quarter of what you took yesterday.This is what you would have started with if I hadn’t had questions about what I would do with you.”He squeezes my middle in warning when I refuse to take it.

Giving in, I take the pouch from him.The moment I do, he sets me down on my feet and lets me go, and I’m back to hating him.

I study the package, reading every single word.It is unopened and not something that could be faked by shrink wrap or anything.The picture shows little balls coated in sugar.

Annoyed with myself for the way my hands shake as I open it, I’m fighting not to tear it open.It’s another struggle to pull apart the zipper closure.Once it’s finally open, I don’t even hesitate to pop one in my mouth and swallow it without chewing.

Finding Gaetano’s eyes on me, his expression is unreadable.When our eyes meet, half of his gorgeous mouth slides up, and that damn wicked grin starts heat flowing where it shouldn’t because I hate him.“You have a horrible right hook.Sandro should be ashamed.”

I shake my head.“No, I’m ashamed.I really wanted to hit you.And I slapped Kitty when she didn’t give me the number of pills I paid her for.I hate this stuff, feeling like this.This isn’t me.”

Those black eyes narrow on me as he studies me.His head goes to the side.“I told you, that’s what drugs do—they lie to you.Don’t be so hard on yourself.That’s what I’m here for.”

“Haha.You’re fucking hilarious.When is the THC going to kick in?Will it be like yesterday…” I’m trying to calculate how long it took before I felt the effects of it yesterday.“Holy crap, an hour, it’s going to take an hour to feel better?”

Shaking his head, he checks the watch on his wrist.It’s a nice watch.How the hell did I not notice it yesterday?Or maybe I did and don’t remember it.It’s a freaking Patek Phillipe watch.

I went shopping with Sandro when he bought his a few years ago.Sandro’s was more than two hundred grand.The one Gaetano has on is one I would have picked for Sandro.I loved the black face with the stars and a sliver of a moon on the face.Sandro wanted one that was plain, and he didn’t think the three hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars was worth it for the slight difference between the two watches.So does that mean Gaetano makes more than Sandro?

“This dose will probably be about half the time.The one thing that’s a pain in the ass about THC is your body will get used to it pretty quickly.More than likely, by the time you’re coming out of withdrawal, you’ll need a twenty milligram to feel better.”

“Are you serious?”Please let him be wrong or joking.

The asshole nods.“By day three, you’ll probably feel it within ten to twenty minutes.You will also have developed a high tolerance from taking it every day, four or five times a day, to keep the withdrawal effects at bay.”

“So many times a day is insane,” I argue.

An eyebrow goes up.“It’s up to you.But it only lasts about four, maybe five hours.”

My legs threaten to give out from under me as I sag into the recliner he was in.Running a hand over my face, “I’m such a fucking idiot.”

An exhale of air that might be a laugh comes from him.“No, you aren’t.You’re a kid trying out the world and seeing what she likes and doesn’t like about it.It’s called growing up.Sometimes, it’s figuring out if you have a taste for oysters only to find they give you food poisoning because they weren’t kept cold.”

“Is it the weed kicking in, or are you actually being nice to me right now?”The words are out before I can stop them.

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