Enforcer:A Bad Boy Romance(7)

By: Olivia Jones




“Good girl. See that wasn't too hard.” Locke ran his fingers through my wet hair. “I'll go first thing in the morning and get your drugs.”



My body was about to blow up. There was no way I could survive until the morning. “You have to go now, Locke. I can't wait any longer.”



“Not gonna happen, baby.” Locke winked at me and sat down in his favorite chair. He was going to watch me suffer all night. I was going to die in a few hours and Locke was just going to just watch me wither away. He snapped open a beer and drank. Fuck him.





Chapter Four





Locke





I didn't want Alice to know that I could barely keep my eyes open. I hadn't gotten any sleep since I brought her to my apartment the night before. I needed just a little bit of shut-eye to regenerate. But tonight was going to be rough.



Alice was going through extreme withdrawals and if I didn't watch her closely she could die. But it was all worth it because I had the information I needed. Jenkins, her dealer, didn't live far away. In the morning I'd get the drug shipment back, return Alice to her dumpster of a home and everything would go back to normal. Or at least I thought.



We both survived the night. There were some pretty close calls when Alice almost choked on her throw up. I was able to roll her over so she could vomit into the trash can. I didn't get a wink of sleep again and knew that it would affect my entire day.



When dawn came, it was time to show this drug dealer what happens when you mess with the O'Malley brothers.



I drove down Oak Street in my Dodge Charger. Alice didn't give me his exact address but I knew his house immediately. Oak Street was filled with two story mansions that were easily in the million-dollar range. Jenkins' drug house was the only one that didn't fit—a white one-story with bars on the windows.



I parked across the street and watched the house for awhile. It was still really early in the morning. The sky was clear and the air crisp. I'd known many dealers in my time and he was most likely asleep right now. Most dealers didn't do business until the late afternoon and stayed open late. If I was lucky, I'd catch him off-guard in bed.



I walked to his front door and tried to look through the side window. The blinds were closed and the view blocked. I quietly tried the door handle but it was locked. Some dealers were stupid enough to keep their doors unlocked. My only way in was the old-fashioned way. I looked around carefully down the street. Any witnesses could easily put a wrench in my plan. But nobody was out this early.



I curled my hand into a fist and smashed it through the side window. The dealer would probably be awake by now. But I still had time. I reached in through the broken window and felt around for the deadbolt. My fingers barely grazed it but I was able to turn the lock and open the door.



The living room was completely empty. Not usual with a drug dealer. Most of them made a lot of quick money so that meant lots of high-end electronics: big screens, sound systems, and video games. But this house was barren. Something was wrong. I could sense it.



The back bedrooms were empty too. Not even a mattress was in there. If a drug dealer lived here, there was no evidence of it now. Or that bitch, Alice, was lying to me. That sounded more likely. In her messed-up state I took what she told me as the truth. Why would she lie to me when she needed drugs so badly? She had to of known that I wouldn't bring any back when I found out she was lying.



Or what if she was just trying to get me out of the house? I quickly checked my car keys and noticed the handcuff keys were still on there. She could break apart the bed if she really wanted to. I had to get back home.



I rushed back to the living room and to the front door. I almost opened it when I heard someone knock from outside. I froze in place, not knowing what to do. Could be the police or a concerned neighbor. I'd have to run out the back in a hurry. I looked through the peephole and saw a skinny guy shaking and constantly scratching his arms. Definitely not a neighbor or a cop. I opened the door.



“Hey man, is Jenkins around? I know he's not open yet but I just really need my fix. I'll pay whatever he wants.” The guy looked around nervously. I pulled him inside by his shirt, closed the door, and slammed him against it.



“Where the fuck is Jenkins?” I growled. My patience was already wearing thin.



“Dude! What the fuck? Just chill out.”



My fist sank into the junkie's stomach and he collapsed to his knees, his breathing turned to rasps. “Tell me where Jenkins is or I'll have to hurt you more.”



The druggie put his hands up in surrender. “I don't know, you psycho! I just came to his house looking for a fix.”

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