A Wicked Addiction
For a long time he stared into the mirror in silence. He could remember last night well, the claw marks across his chest would not let him forget. He walked back into the hotel room and gazed upon the beauty that lay in the bed still asleep. His gaze moved from the woman laying in the bed to the nightstand beside her were a well used crack pipe sat. For the night all she wanted was a fix, and for that fix there was no depth to how low she would sink. The dark haird man walked to his messenger bag and opened it reaching past his computer he drew a silenced pistol, he wrapped his hand around the grip of the gun. He wished their was another way. He felt that these women all …