His Mafia Prince

(TYLER)

I didn't ask to be an Omega.

If I had a say in how my life went, being an omega would definitely bottom my list. I would have chosen differently, but fate had other plans for me.

I longed for the ability to live a normal life, make choices about where I lived, what I did with my days, and even who I associated with–choices that I wouldn't have to regret later.

But no. I don't have that luxury.

I am in heat, and worse, high as a kite.

The drugs inside my system have me so drowsy that I can barely focus on anything, let alone keep my eyes open. The pheromones swirling up inside me have me all sweaty, and all I can do is drown in the blankness.

But the alpha on top of me doesn't give a shit about it. He doesn't even know whether I'm conscious or not. He is always entitled like that. I don't even know his real name, he makes me call him Jake.

The life I live doesn't give me many choices. I'm stuck with him. I somehow have to find a way to cope with my shifty life, and I have convinced myself that drugs are the only constant in my life.He gives them to me, so I let him use me however he wishes.

After all, I'll be utterly blacked out to remember anything by the time he is done with me. I have long given up caring that he's a slob. But if I'm going to survive, I'm going to have to give up a whole lot of things.

I have no home, no family, no money.

But I have heroin. I might as well get high and forget about my shifty life for a short while. I even get to have some degree of pleasure. Much as I hate to admit it, sometimes I even come.

Alone and unclaimed, this is the only thing remotely close to pleasure that I'll ever feel. Being touched, kissed, stroked is all part of our existence, and I have to admit I feel empty without it most of the time. So, I give myself up to Jake, and he gives me what I want.

The drugs help me drift off. It's not like there is so much excitement in my life that I'll be missing. So, I let him do whatever he sees fit to me. After all, I didn't fancy watching the Jake take me so ruthlessly with no care in the world just so he could burst a nut. I'd rather be numb, right?

Satisfied, Jake spreads my cheeks and pulls out of me with a grunt. I hate every second of it. Part of me just wants to keep my eyes shut and pretend none of this is happening. But who am I kidding? My head is buzzing right now, but this is the hardest reality to bury.

I had several coping mechanisms, one being my mind packing these haunted memories in deeply, unmarked parts in the hind of my brain, and then there was this one. But it was the reality of my life, and I had to live it.

"Shit." Jake swears, "I think the condom broke."

I hold up my head to squint at him, trying to make sense of what he is saying. "W–what do you mean?"

He looks at me with a mix of expressions on his face, ones that I can't quite decipher, satisfaction, rage, angst? I don't know, but he looks pretty serious.

Jake is older than me, and he has a burly physique. He might be looking attractive and all but I have never brought myself to think of him like that. He is mean and likes to use my desperation to his advantage, so feeling anything remotely close to beauty in him was a no for me. He is mean. That is what he is.

"The condom broke," he says, rolling the rubber off of him and looking back up at me. "Why do they always break with you?"

I wasn't sure if that was a question he expected me to answer, because if anything, both of us knew why. It broke because he was rough, but as usual, he's always too engrossed with himself to care what I felt. Jake levels a look at me, and I flush.

"Oh shit, you're in heat." His eyes harden. He looks at me as if he is contemplating something, and all I can manage is stare back, barely able to form a response. A tinge of annoyance courses through me, but I stifle it, not wanting to shift my focus to something else.

Not that I can anyway. My head is buzzing and everything is going in circles around me. This is the feeling, one that I'm willing to give myself up for or exchange for a few bucks. Whatever it took, I'd gladly do it if it meant feeling like this forever.

Isn't it just the best feeling in the world?

"It'll be fine," I grumble, waving a dismissive hand, hoping that he can just go wherever and leave me alone instead of distracting me.

"You're knocked up, Ty. Nothing about this is fine." Jake retorts, but I'm too busy wading into my thoughts to actually listen.

"You're ruining my high," I say, trying to flutter my eyes almost shutting eyes open to look at him.

"Oh, is that so?" he says, scanning the grungy motel room we were in and back at me. "I wouldn't blame you, you know…I understand it all too well."

I can't form a response, so I close my eyes and take myself back into my trance. But even then, I can feel him, his eyes piercing into me. There was something about Jake's lust that I couldn't quite understand. But he disapproves of my thoughts when he begins to talk again.

"I have an extra bag, you know…I can give it to you, free of charge"

I immediately sit up. I could've sworn I just heard him say he would give me an extra bag for free. What wouldn't I do for that bag? Never once in my life have I been offered anything for free, and much as I want to take it at his words, his offer sounds too good to be true. The Jake I know wouldn't give anything for free. "Are you sure you don't want anything for it?" I ask to confirm my suspicion.

"No," he responds–what I find so difficult to believe.

"Are you being serious right now?" I ask, squinting at him disbelievingly.

"You want it or not?" he asks, quirking an eyebrow.

Jake could be fooling me, or not. But right now, that's the least of my concerns. I am penniless, yet here he was giving me heroin for free, and not wanting anything for it. As expected, my greed overrides my warning bells, and I begin to shake my head vigorously.

"Yes… yes, please. Give it to me."

Jake shoves his hands into the pocket of his pants and takes out the little bag, holding it out for me. "Here, take it."

Yet, he yanks the bag away when I reach for it. A scowl overwrites my face, wondering what sort of game Jake was now playing with me. "Come on." He says, still dangling the bag on my face, almost like he knows how bad my nerves burn for it, but he keeps teasing me about it.

I have used enough to know not to take much too soon. But the way he keeps convincing me has me on the edge. If I don't take it now, the offer will be off the table, and I don't want that.

"Give me the bag, please," I beg, holding out my shaky hand to him, trying to woo him with my pitiful eyes. I need the bag so bad. I can't let him walk away with it, especially after he told me it's free.

Finally, Jake tosses the bag to me, and I scramble to get it as it is tossed on the floor. "Be quick, I got to go." He orders me.

With shaky hands, I shake the powder out of the bag and onto the foil. I click on the lighter repeatedly before a flame appears and proceed to heat until the powder turns into liquid. Seconds later, I inhaled the vapor–which made my lungs burn.

There it is again. I can't downplay the excitement coursing through me.

"Oh, shit…yeah." I moan in excitement, closing my eyes as I lean back into the foam. I only focused on what I was feeling then. It almost felt as if I was floating, and I spread my arms even further to my sides for the feathery feel below me. Everything was all so subtle, even the air in the grungy motel suddenly felt denser, cleaner.

But that feeling just lasted long enough for the real deal to kick in. My mouth began to feel dry as sandpaper, and my hands had become too heavy to lift. Slowly, my breathing grew shallower and shallower, until it was hard for me to even draw air into my lungs.

Forcing my eyes open, I catch Jake staring at me. What surprises me more is the fact that he was still here. Normally, he would have been gone already, yet here he was, watching me intently.

"Some… something's wrong." I forced out. "I don't feel good."

Jake doesn't break his stare. Neither does he respond.

I can't breathe. My skin is clammy and now I can't resist the urge to puke my liver out. I spread my hands on the floor, pushing myself to sit up but I crumple back instead. My body is shaking vigorously and a froth begins to form at the side of my mouth, nothing that seems to startle Jake.

I am afraid, trying so desperately to stay alive. Fear overrides me as I realize I'm overdosing. I whimper, raising a hand to Jake, but my hand just falls back. "P…please, help…pp me."

Jake shakes his head. My life flashes right before my eyes. "Please…ple…"

"You were really fun to fuck. That I'll give you." He smirks, the smirk leaving his face as fast as it appeared. It takes me a few seconds to realize he isn't about to help me. Then, an even darker thought creeps into my mind. He is trying to kill me.

"J…Jake, please." I drag myself in vain towards him and manage to grab his leg, but he kicks my hand off and strides out, and the door behind him shuts with a soft click.