My sister became dependent on painkillers after a skiing accident left her leg broken in three places. I didn’t understand and, yes, I judged her. After all, we were talking about her will. No one was forcing those pills down her throat. It seemed very cut-and-dried to me back then. But I know differently now.
The first time Chase touched her, Jane finally understood addiction…understood the aching need, the keen want for more…more of his hands…his mouth…his tongue. His complete mastery over her body. She knew the suffocation of crushing anxiety as she waited for her next hit, the flash of terrific pain when it didn’t come.
Chase seems unwilling to give Jane what she needs; what she ultimately craves above all else. But addicts can’t think beyond the fix. They’ll resort to desperate measures to feed their need…even if they lose themselves in the process. Even if they come undone…
Publisher’s Note: This story was previously published elsewhere and has been revised for Ellora’s Cave.
Steampunk
