Page 17 of Brutal

Maybe he isn’t so sure of himself after all.

Despite myself, I start thinking of all the ways I could knock him down a peg or three.

CHAPTER 5

Drake

How dare she.

How fucking dare she.

I can’t believe Mimosa had the fucking gall to bring up something she shouldn’t have even heard, something Hunter shouldn’t have even said. He’s such a high and mighty prick, and I guess it’s easy for him to forget that some women still have a spine at first. His Stef never had, but my girl has a fire I’m going to have to extinguish.

Sooner rather than later.

I mull over it as I head to the kitchen, looking through the liquor cabinet. I don’t know if I have anything strong enough to really help, and I think of the supply of pills I have locked away in my room.

Pills, and a few things that are a bit stronger — things I don’t usually touch because I have to fight to stop taking them. Things you snort, things you ingest, things that have a bad reputation for good reason.

The only problem is the high doesn’t last nearly long enough to make them worth it.

I take a deep, shuddering breath and close the liquor cabinet. I storm off to my room, my eyes scanning it for the little snake I’d taken into my home. I wonder if she’s going to try the door — naked and in a place full of predators — and I half hope she does so I can drag her back kicking and screaming.

So I can show her that no one gives a fuck about her.

I own too much for them to do more than turn a blind eye.

I go to my safe, crouching down to input the code and press my thumb to it to unlock it. Everything’s neatly inside, for all that the supplies are nearly depleted. I shove the bottle I’d gotten today into it, wanting to keep that out of sight from nosy little bitches, and hesitate over the rest.

But I need to calm the fuck down.

Fucking Hunter.

Fucking Mimosa.

I snatch up the last little baggie of powder, using my bedside table to cut a line of it. It burns when I snort it, but the sensations that wash over me almost immediately wipe away any hints of discomfort. It’s so fucking good, and it’s all I can do not to keep a constant supply on me.

I know better, though. Some things leave traces too easy to follow, and this is one of them.

The last thing I need is a drug scandal.

I put the bag away and close the safe, making sure it’s locked so certain little sex slaves who don’t know their place yet can’t continue to snoop around. I don’t know what I left out to tip her off to anything else, but apparently, I’d been careless.

I don’t care, though, not right now, because the euphoria wipes away those thoughts, too.

Calmer, I think about the fact that my new slave is hiding from me instead of servicing me, which is a pity and a waste. I stalk toward the closet, standing at the doorway.

“Mimi,” I say in a singsong, “it’s time to come out and play with your Master.”

I hear a soft inhale, but she doesn’t answer. If she hides from me… well, I’m going to have a lot of fun dragging her out and reminding her just what she’s here for.

Disappointingly, she comes out from behind some old coats, with a blanket wrapped around her. She holds her head high and stares straight at me.

She doesn’t say a single word.

Her defiance still sparks something in me, though, a bit of anger that even the drugs can’t quash. “Drop the blanket,” I tell her. “I want to see all of my property.”

She lets go of the blanket, and it falls to her feet.