Chapter 13: Drugs

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ϟ Grey ϟ

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ϟ Grey ϟ

The door to the office opens and I feel myself grow unhappy at the interruption.

I told them not to when she's here.

Her blonde hair flies as she whips her head to the doorway where Roman stands. He glances down at her, his eyes taking on a curious state.

I reach forward to the computer on my desk and pause the movie she was watching while I was filling out paperwork for the bust that'll go down tonight.

"What?" I question, my voice serious enough to make him understand that I'm not in the mood for bullshit.

"Look at the time," is all he says before closing my door back. I raise my eyes to the clock.

"Motherfucker," I curse quietly and I feel her eyes come to rest on me.

"You okay?" she questions softly, her hand coming to rest on mine. I ignore the fucking feeling it gives me and only send her a nod.

God that question is one she constantly asks.

It should get on my nerves but it fucking doesn't. It makes me feel...I don't fucking know just...good.

"Do you need a ride home?" I question and her eyes fall to her fingers. I start fiddling with the scrunchie she gave me nearly a week ago.

"No," she gives me a fake smile and I feel scowl on my face.

What the hell is she upset for?

"I'm just gonna drive," she suddenly smiles up at me and my scowl deepens.

"What's wrong?" She asks me.

I don't think I could ever get used to someone asking me what's wrong. There's never been someone who gave enough of a fuck.

It's new. It's all fucking new.

"Nothing," I grumble out, unable to help it and being so unused to the question. She lets out a quiet sigh just like whenever I get an attitude with her.

"I love that," she points to the scrunchie that I put back on my wrist. It's sat there all week.

For some fucking reason, it relieves my stress.

Unlike Roman and even a few other guys, I never turned to Marlboro Ultra Lights to keep me from going off the deep end when I get nerve-wracked or stressed out.

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