Freakin' Drugs
1279 Words
Roxanne prepared eggs and toast for breakfast, but she barely tasted them. Her mind was occupied, scrolling through the locations she needed to visit to maintain her cover. The mission file outlined the steps, but she always added her own improvisations. That’s how she worked. That’s how she survived.
Today’s mission? A drug transaction.
She had ordered illegal substances through the black market and was set to deliver them to a buyer from a secret social media channel. A necessary move to blend in. Dressed in a black leather jacket, fitted pants, and calf-high boots, she slung a small bag containing the goods over her shoulder. A dark helmet concealed her identity as she rode her motorcycle into the city’s underbelly.
The old building looked abandoned, but Roxanne knew better. Parking her bike, she removed her helmet and stepped inside. Silence. Then—
A loud crack echoed as a baseball bat struck the floor.
A massive, tattooed man emerged from the shadows, his glare cold and menacing. “Who the f** are you, b***h? This is my turf. You wanna sell here? You’ll have to step over my dead body.”*
Roxanne arched a brow, amused. “Poor you, baby boy.” She smirked. “I have an order to deliver, which means I have business here. No one owns this place.”
The man growled and swung the bat.
Roxanne moved fast. A swift kick intercepted his swing, knocking him off balance. “A bat? Really?” she taunted. “If you’re so tough, fight me barehanded.”
The thug snarled, tossing his bat aside. He lunged—a mistake.
Roxanne dodged, countering with a sharp jab to his jaw. A sickening crack confirmed she’d done damage. Enraged, he grabbed her and slammed her to the ground.
Pain shot through her ribs, but she pushed it aside. She rolled away, sprang to her feet, and delivered a series of brutal kicks and punches. The man groaned, collapsing face-first onto the floor.
Panting, Roxanne wiped the blood from her mouth. “Why does it always have to be like this?” she muttered.
The man wheezed. “I—I surrender… You’re no ordinary woman. You’re a f**ing monster…”*
Then, he passed out.
Roxanne stepped back, dialing her contact. “Where the f** are you? Why didn’t you tell me there’d be thugs here?!”*
The shaky voice on the other end stammered an apology. He was hiding behind the building.
She found him—a high school boy, skinny, trembling, eyes bloodshot. He couldn’t have been older than sixteen.
“Give me the drugs, quick! I can’t stand it anymore.”
Roxanne narrowed her eyes. “Money first, dumbass. You even old enough for this?”
“I don’t give a f**! Just hand it over!”* He shoved five hundred dollars into her hands.
She scoffed. Where the hell does a kid get that kind of money? But she handed him the bag and walked away. This wasn’t her problem.
Later that night, Roxanne had another delivery. This time, the buyer was hosting a house party. She dressed the part—a black mini skirt, thigh-high slits, strapless crop top. Long red waves cascaded down her shoulders as she stepped into the chaos.
The house reeked of alcohol and smoke. Neon lights pulsed to deafening music. In the living room, people were doing more than just drinking.
She approached a man. “Where’s Jaxon?”
His gaze raked over her. “Upstairs.”
“Didn’t know I was delivering to a brothel.” She rolled her eyes and made her way up.
Upstairs, a group of drunk men leered at her. Her pulse quickened, but she kept her face impassive. Control the situation.
“Where’s Jaxon?” she asked, loud enough to be heard over the music.
A tall man with a mullet smirked. “So you’re the dealer? Damn, why do you deliver drugs so beautifully?”
Laughter erupted. Several men closed in.
Roxanne pulled her pistol.
“Wow… easy, babe,” one of them chuckled, raising his hands.
She fired a shot into the ceiling. “Where the f** is Jaxon?!”*
Silence.
The mullet man gulped. “O-okay, follow me.”
He led her downstairs, through the back, to a poolside lounge. Jaxon lounged with women draped over him, an arrogant smirk on his face.
“Busy little chick, huh? Have a drink first, then I’ll pay you.”
Roxanne’s patience snapped. She pressed the barrel of her gun against his chest. “Enough. Give me the money.”
Jaxon chuckled but handed over $5,000. She threw him the drugs. “If it’s short, I’m coming back. And trust me, you won’t like it.”
While she was in the car, Roxanne gently massaged her temples. This first mission was very draining of energy and emotions. It looks like Roxanne will become an irritable person after this mission is completed.
This is not the life she ever wanted. If it weren't for her first mission, she wouldn't have engaged in the distasteful activities she had just experienced. This mission was a matter of life and death. Roxanne couldn't cry anymore, given her tough upbringing.
Roxanne's father had trained her rigorously to survive on her own in the future. Her mother had taught her a bit about love, enabling Roxanne to see the gentle side of the world.
Mission done, Roxanne drove to Victoria Crimson to unwind. She stashed her money in the car’s hidden compartment and stepped inside the lounge.She swapped her boots for black heels. She also replaced her turtleneck top with a rose gold strapless off-shoulder ruffled crop top that showcased her beautiful shoulders.
From a dimly lit corner, Ares observed her. He had noticed her before, the way she carried herself with unshaken confidence. Tonight, however, she looked different—drained, on edge.
She ordered whiskey. A whole bottle. Sip after sip, her mind buzzed, her vision blurred.
Then, Ares saw it. A man slipped something into her drink.
His grip tightened around his glass. Enough. He had been watching her for a while, intrigued by her reckless composure. Something about her pulled him in—not just her beauty, but her unpredictability.
But now, she was vulnerable. And someone had just tried to take advantage of that.
Ares was on his feet before he even thought about it.
She barely reacted before a familiar voice cut through the haze.
“Have you lost your f**ing mind, you son of a b***h?!”*
Ares. The man from the casino.
Roxanne squinted, trying to focus as Ares yanked the guy away. The bastard fell to his knees, shaking. “I—I was just having fun!”
Ares’ voice was pure ice. “You think drugging women is fun? Get the f** out before I put a bullet in your skull.”*
The man fled.
Roxanne exhaled, reaching for her drink, but Ares knocked the bottle from her hand.
“What the f**, Ares?!”*
Her flushed face, dazed eyes—it hit him. She had already ingested some of it.
He cursed under his breath. Before she could protest, he hoisted her over his shoulder.
“Put me down, you jerk!” she slurred, writhing in his grip.
He placed her gently into the passenger seat of his car. Roxanne fidgeted, her body burning from the drug’s effects. She rubbed her neck, her eyes dark with something dangerous.
“Ares… please help me. My whole body feels so hot.”
Ares clenched his jaw. This was going to be a long night.
- Writer
