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Chapter 3

At our appearance in the hallway, Darius Moss, one of the prospects, came charging toward us. Torin continued plowing forward, shoving him out of the way as he snarled, "Get the fuck out of the way Darius before I knock your ass out!"

As we passed by Darius when he hastily stepped out of the way, Darius exclaimed, "What the fuck, Tor? What the hell are you doing? Stye ain't gonna be happy, man!"

"Fuck Stye," Torin snarled as he slammed his way through the exit door.

TORIN

It had been hard as fuck not to burn the club down after I'd gotten Marlowe out and brought her to my room. It wasn't as if I hadn't known what she did. Fuck, I'd been trying to convince myself for the last few weeks not to go into that fucking room. To stay the hell away from it.

However, when I had gotten back from the run, I'd given in to that weakness and requested she dance for me. And God, how she'd made me want her—not like I hadn't forever it seemed anyway. I'd told myself just this once I'd enjoy her dancing for me, then I'd never request her again.

I hated that she was a room-dancer. I hated that she was subjected to the lust of other men. However, when she'd begun to dance for me, I'd become no different than any of the rest of them. Need had consumed me and I had swelled to the point I'd damn near busted the zipper out of my jeans.

I'd finally reached a point where I'd had to make her stop, as I hadn't been able to take any more, it was either stop her or fuck her. I wanted her, fuck yeah I did, but I wouldn't do that to either of us. I'd NEVER wanted another woman like I did Marlowe, but she meant more to me than just another lay. That's when I realized she was on something.

I'd been so pissed, I damn near hadn't been able to control the rage that had ripped through me at Stye. The goddamn-mother-fucker, didn't give a shit about his own daughter, his blood, and before I'd even thought through my actions, I'd picked her ass up on my shoulder, and carried her out of the club.

I'd be damned if the bastard was going to use her to line his pockets any longer. He hadn't prostituted her yet, I knew it because of Dillon, but it wouldn't be long until greed took care of that. As the Prez's daughter, Stye would get a high price for her virginity. He was into some fucked up shit, and believe me, I knew all about it—I'd been part of it from a very young age. And the face was his daughter wouldn't matter one fucking bit.

So, fuck man, what else was I to do? Let it just happen? That would have taken a stronger man than me. The cost was too goddamn high, and though little else phased me, Marlowe was my Krypton. So in a flash decision, I'd decided I'd get her ass clean and away from this life-style and her fucking dad.

MARLOWE

"Please, Torin? All I need is a little. Please?" I begged. I was agitated and hurt all over. My muscles were cramping, and I had body aches that felt like they were nestled down into the marrow of my bones; like growing pains, only multiplied by a hundred. Yet even worse, was the craving! God, I wanted a hit, and I wanted it bad!

I'd jerked, tugged, pulled, and damn near ripped pieces of my hair out over the last sixteen hours. Now, I couldn't stop shooting irate glances at Torin, confused that he continued to ignore me. Seemingly, a totally different person from the man who had acted so concerned about me a mere sixteen hours earlier.

Instead, he tapped away on his laptop as if he could care less whether I lived or died. Finally having enough of being ignored, I stamped my feet and screamed, "Will you fucking look at me, dammit!"

Torin raised his head, eyebrows lifted in inquiry, as he peered in my direction. Suddenly a sneezing fit seized me, and I sneezed repeatedly, spewing spit and mucus in the air before me.

With a dash for the box of Kleenex sitting across the room, I tried to stem the flow with my hand; however, it wasn't adequate defense against the volume of liquid expelling from my nose.

Finally, reaching the tissue box, I jerked a huge handful out and covered my nose as the epic fit continued unabated.

After a dozen more rapid-fire expulsions, it seemed the outbursts were finally beginning to end. Yet, I found my eyes watering and overflowing for a very different reason when a warm pair of arms slid around my waist. With the comfort, I became a sniffling, sniveling, quivering, absolute slobbering mess.

Unable to contain my misery any longer, I let out a huge sob, as drawing me back against the hard muscles of his chest, Torin settled me against him. Resting his chin on my shoulder, his warm breath caressed my ear as he breathed, "I've got you, baby girl. I'm right here with you, and I will be every step of the way through this."

Tears ran rivulets down my cheeks, and my body turned on itself—clawing at me, tooth and nail from the inside as it screamed out its pain and neediness. I forced out a broken whisper of, "It's too much… I can't do this!" Then gave a whimpering cry. "Oh God Torin, even my teeth hurt!"

As he turned me to face him, he rubbed his hands up and down my arms, warming the chills seizing me, as laying his forehead against mine, he softly growled, "You can do this, Mar. I know you can."

Anything else he might have said was left unspoken. At that exact moment, a sharp pain squeezed my stomach mercilessly, and wiggling loose of his hold, I cried, "Cramp's," as I shot past him.

A few seconds later, I was sitting on the toilet, praying for death. From outside of the bathroom's doorway, I heard Torin call, "What can I do to help?"

With tears streaming down my cheeks, and mood shifting, I screamed, "You want to help? Go fucking get me something!"

After a few seconds of silence on the other side of the door, I snarled, "No? Then kill me and put me out of my damn misery!"

Finally, I heard him snap, "I am not going to go fucking get you drugs, Marlowe. What I am going to do, though, is get your ass clean. So, get that through your goddamn head!"

"I'm a fucking junky, Torin…accept it and get that through your goddamn head!" I spat back at him.

"No," he barked, before I heard the thump of his bare heels as he stomped away.

Staring at the floor, in pain and miserable, I muttered brokenly, "Fuck you, Torin."

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