Christopher

It's incredibly funny how one night can seem so peaceful, until everything suddenly goes to shit.

Tonight is like those rare nights. Those nights your emotions are at their peak. Those cloud-nine nights that take you so high, when you come crashing down, you feel a sense of great satisfaction. That's exactly how I feel right now as I'm being slammed into from behind. Heated, and high as a kite.

The drugs and pheromones swirling inside me are a solid contributor. They make me drowsy, and numb the pain I feel in my left hip as I arch lower for the Alpha to get in deeper. Sweat dots my entire body, and I can barely keep my eyes open. Good thing the bastard alpha railing me doesn't care if I'm conscious or not. He's actively chasing his own orgasm. He refuses to tell me his real name, but I overheard the other dude he was with where I met them at the alleyway call him Renzo. He makes me call him Big Daddy, and rubs me off the wrong way.

I can't stand him. He makes the hairs on my arm stand, and if I wasn't suffering through a brutal heat, vulnerable and thirsty for a dick, I would have never agreed to his advances. He's got a huge ego to match his giant cock, but he also brings me drugs which I need to stay sane, so I figured, why not? I could kill two birds with one stone — repay him for the drugs, and cure my heat. The only problem is that these heats are sporadic, and he's always the only palatable alpha around. So, we've been having sex for weeks now and I have no choice but to let his excesses slide.

I'm homeless. Penniless. And lonely, with no relatives still living.

I'm a survivor. Survivors can't be picky.

Survivors don't take the lemons life throw at them. Survivors are the lemons themselves.

Survivors can have heroin.

I have heroin. It's my family. My home. My life.

So, I might as well forget my problems by getting high, and let this alpha fuck me real good. That's the only period I get to be truly happy. That's the only time I experience pure, unselfish pleasure. Even if it's a few degrees. Sometimes I even orgasm. I'm an island. Unclaimed. Unloved. It's hard never being touched. Kissed. Caressed, even if it's rough. That desire to be coddled is deeply rooted in an omega's DNA, so I let Renzo take what he wants, and I get satisfaction, no matter how little, in return.

Heroin hugs me. It makes my life problems blur away in less than a second. I just driff off on a cloud, and it's like I'm floating in the air for hours, sifting through the clouds slowly. It's not like there's anything extraordinarily exciting that I'm missing out on. Why be awake and worried, when I could be half-conscious, delirious, but happy?

Renzo announces his orgasm with a grunt, emptying his semen deep inside me. He pauses for a moment, before pulling out, a swear falling from his lips. "Shit. The damn condom broke," he grumbles.

His words are distorted, and I still haven't orgasmed yet. I can't understand his jumbled words, and from his expression, I can tell that he's growing irritated and angry. Very on brand for Renzo. "Huh?"

He squints, micro-analyzing me with his evil, dark gaze. His biceps are shiny, and his hair billowed a sharp black like the darkness of hell. He's older than me, and there's a streak of white hair at his temple. He's got a banging body, ripped and hard, but he's far from being facially attractive. Instead, he looks scary.

He is scary. Scary and incredibly mean.

He could kill me right now, go out and walk around scot-free for the rest of his life. No one would bat an eye. No one would care.

He was that deadly. No, scratch that. Alphas are that deadly.

Taking the initiative to look down, understanding dawned. "Fuck. It broke again. Why do they always break with you?"

I shouldn't have asked, because I know the answer. He's unromantic, rough and brutal. He's the only alpha who's been like that with me. The others were not particularly amazing, but they were gentler. They had empathy. A little love they could extend.

He closes his eyes and inhales, his large hands fitting by his sides as he edges closer to grip my hair. Hard.

I scream.

"Stop, you're hurting me!"

"You little fucker. You never told me you were in heat."

I kick out as best as I can, but it is no use. The heroin is doing what it does best. Overwhelming my system and making me feel so damn good. "Relax, Renzo," I say, trying to calm him down. "It'll be okay, trust me." I desperately wanted him to leave, so I could enjoy my cloud nine properly.

He releases me and huffs, eyeing me steadily. "It won't be if you get knocked up, faggot. I need you to be serious for a minute here."

And I need you to get the damn hell out of my apartment already, for fucks sake.

But I don't say that out loud. Instead, I smiled weakly and say as politely as I can muster. "You're ruining my buzz, Renzo. I've already told you nothing will happen."

"Well, you already ruined mine," he shrugs, leaning against the musty old mahogany desk I got from a wasteland down west. "Care for another bag? I've got two with me extra. You could have one. You seem like you don't want to get down from that high anytime soon."

My eyes fly open, and I smile. Genuinely. "Are you serious?"

I've only known Renzo for a few months, and he's never offered me a free bag of heroin in any one of our numerous business exchanges. He always had a price attached to his favors. Most Alphas do.

"Do I look like one who jokes around to you?" He asks with his left brow raised. 

I looked at him, his face all hard lines and edges, and squint. "Renzo, don't mess with me."

"Do you want it or not?" He baits, the corner of his lips riding up into a sly smirk. 

I don't know why I have a bad feeling about this. I must be hallucinating.

But my greed is stronger than whatever reservations I have. I stretch out a hand. "I do. Please. Give it to me."

"Stupid boy," he says, cackling roughly as he reaches into his suit jacket and retrieves the little blue baggie. He holds it out. "Here. You can have it."

My fingers barely touch it as he pulls it away. I tilt my head to the side, aggravated now. "Do you want me to have it or not?" I'm not sure what games he's playing, but I don't like it one bit. I need to maintain this high I'm on.

"Promise you'll take it right here, right now."

I scoff. "Are you trying to get me to overdose? I just took a couple a few minutes ago." Stupid fucker, he knows that. "I can't take it now. It has to be later, or I'll overdose."

"You're not fooling anybody, Chris. You've got thick skin. You can handle it."

"No, Renzo. I'm not taking it now."

"Then the deal's off the table. Sorry."

Fuck, I'm desperate. Leaning forward, I hold out a trembling hand, my joints quaking. "Fine. I'll take it. Give it to me."

My need burns through my body, blocking off the voice of reason as I clasp my hands together, a silent plea in my eyes. I'm at the risk of overdosing if I take even the tiniest bit more, but I can't just let him walk away with it. I need that heroin. I don't know when next I'll be having it again.

I have no money to buy on my own.

He grunts, tossing it to me, his eyes cold. "Hasten up. I've got more important stuff to take care of."

"Thank you, Renzo," I say faintly. Hands shaking, I fumble around with the foil I use in heating the drugs up and my lighter. I know this is dangerous, but I can't let him take the bag away. Who the fuck turns down a free offer? And that too one that's as generous as this?

I shake out a considerable quantity of heroin into the foil, setting my straw in place in between my teeth. Clicking the lighter a few times, I beam when the flame finally appears, heating the bottom of the foil until the powder turns to liquid. Vapor rises, and I inhale it greedily through the straw. I gasp softly as my lungs burn, holding the vapor there, excitement flooding my system.

It only takes a few minutes for the effect to hit me in full force, and I sag, relaxed, against the sheets. "Fuck, yeah," I whimper, closing my eyes. The rush and euphoria are like a chill, relieving coat around me. My mouth is dry, my skin flushed, and my arms feel like cement bags. Everything is perfect. Everything.

Suddenly, I choke.

My breathing slows and becomes shallower. I cough a few times, finding it difficult to pull air from my lungs.

What the fuck is happening?

I manage to peel my eyes open and find Renzo watching me intently with a strange, sickening expression. I thought he left. Usually, he always leaves after every hook-up, not wanting to take a second glance at me.

The intensity of his gaze worries me. It makes me feel like a lab rat under intense scrutiny.

"H-H-Help me," I beg pathetically. "I-I don't know what's happening. I feel...s-sick," I stammer, rolling onto my side. "Something's wrong with the heroin."

"When did you figure that out?"

I fight the bile rearing its ugly head up my throat. My skin is clammy, and the nausea engulfs me. My lungs feel like deflated balloons as I struggle to suck in some oxygen. I struggle to sit up, the room spinning suddenly. I'm suffocating. My muscles are too weak, and I slide back down, my entire body starting to shake. Renzo stands there, through it all, watching, his expression grim. Nonchalant. When my muscles convulse, real liquid fear jolts through me.

My fear is materializing. I'm overdosing.

I grit my teeth and whimper. "Water. I need...water."

He rolls his eyes, then shakes his head in mock pity. "Water is not what you need. You need more heroin."

"No," I grit out, my hand flailing towards him. "I need help. Help me. Please."

"I really enjoyed fucking you, you know?" He smirks, framing my face roughly with his large hand. "You're beautiful. So beautiful..."

"Renzo, I — "

"...but stupid," he finishes off and shoves my face away. I fall flat on my side, my body burning. Realization dawns on me. He added something to the heroin.

He wanted me to overdose.

Why?

"Renzo... I'm begging..." I whisper, tears blurring my vision now, but he ignores me. The last thing I see before I black out is Renzo picking up his backpack and swaggering out of the grimy motel room without a glance back.

author's note: this story has been sitting in my drafts for close to two years now, and I was anxious putting it out, but it's all fuel, so here ya'll go. it's a mafia mpreg romance, and is going to be very dramatic, so...buckle up, omg. let's get the show on the road. love ya'll for sticking with me till the end of this.