10 | тнє мι∂∂ℓє

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Maybe you'll save me
You're gonna take me from this crazy I've been painting

Chapter 10 ~ The Middle

Owen Bailey

When we returned to the apartment in the ungodly hours of the night, the last thing I wanted to do was talk to Raven. My wishes were blatantly disregarded, though, because Raven rushed to my side to scorn me for leaving when I was injured. I wasn't really listening to what she was saying nor was I caring about what she was saying. I wanted to get high, really high, so I could momentarily forget about all these fucking traitors in my life.

Midway through her rant, I pushed past her and ambled over to the bedroom we shared—one that I didn't want to be sharing tonight. Naturally, she followed me and began to talk even louder than before. I tried to ignore it, but her voice just kept ringing in my ears. "Shut the fuck up, would you?" I barked at her. "I don't wanna fucking talk to you. Isn't that obvious?"

Her eyes widened, showing the icy blue color of her irises. "Owen, what—"

"Get out!" I screamed with every inch of breath in my lungs. The volume of my voice frightened her a bit because she immediately stumbled backwards, but she seemed to get the not-so-subtle hint I was sending her. I didn't even care that her bottom lip had started to quiver or that her eyes had gotten glassy due to the tears threatening to fall. All I cared about was the peaceful silence that followed when she finally left.

I tossed my current blood-stained shirt into the trash and swapped it for a new one before I slowly inched into bed and switched off the beside lamp. With the room now bathed in absolute darkness, I laid back in bed and stared at the ceiling, finally letting my thoughts
roam freely for the first time that day.

These late hours were seriously taking a toll on me. Before this, I only had to worry about where I would get my next batch of weed. Now I had too much on my plate: Trey, Ake, Lucifer and Raven. It seemed like the only person I didn't have to worry about was Jonah because he was surprisingly low maintenance.

I truly hated having to be the father figure all the time. I didn't want to worry about anyone else, only myself.

I put up this front. I made everyone around me believe that I was capable of dealing with everything the universe sent my way, but I really wasn't. Had I known this would be my future, I would've never agreed to Lucifer's offer four years ago. I would've gotten a regular job and I wouldn't have the biggest drug lord in the city desperately trying to kill me.

I was more tired than I anticipated because after minutes of contemplating what my life would be like if I had made smart decisions, I drifted into a deep sleep and became immersed in an alternate reality that seemed too real to be a dream.

"Owen, I would like you to meet our new addition to the team," Lucifer announced in his deep, baritone voice as he shoved a scrawny kid towards me. The boy toppled onto the floor and hung his head low, allowing his black hair to conceal his face from me. "He's gonna be our prostitute."

I lifted my eyes from the boy to look at Lucifer—the man who had taken so much from me. "What are you talking about?"

"I want to expand my clientele pool," the dirty-blond stated as though the answer was obvious. He stood with such authority and confidence like he didn't have a single care in the world, but maybe that was because he didn't. He hired people to do his dirty work for him. The only deed that he saw fit to execute for himself was killing members who were disloyal. "Instead of just selling drugs, we can sell sex, too. This boy's perfect for the job, don't you think?"

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