Addicted to Ellis D

ADDICTED TO ELLIS D S.E. HARMON This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. Addicted to Ellis D © 2023 by S.E. Harmon. Cover Art © 2023 by S.E. Harmon. Cover content is for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted on the cover is a model. All rights reserved. This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of international copyright law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. Any eBook format cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this publication may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever, including but not limited to being stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the author. For Angel My love for you is a journey starting at forever and ending at never. UNKNOWN CONTENTS Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Epilogue Afterword Acknowledgments About the Author Also by S.E. Harmon 1 ELLIS Sex noises. I could hear them the moment I walked in the front door. I sighed as I came into the apartment fully and secured the door behind me. I suppose the term secure varies depending on where you live. In some neighborhoods, secure might be as simple as flipping a lock. In this one, secure involved three sets of compound locks, an admittedly flimsy chain, and a baseball bat we kept in the umbrella stand…as you do. I kicked off my shoes and nudged them out of the way. I moved Jamie’s, too—he was a bit of a slob, but he tried for my sake. I left the hard wing-tipped shoes in the middle of the entryway alone. I tried to be respectful to Jamie’s clients. Downright invisible, actually. I’d learned the hard way that his clients preferred an illusion. They wanted to think that Jamie was a cute plaything that laid on a bearskin rug all day with a plug in his lubed ass and a lollipop in his mouth, waiting for them to drop by. I only wish that example had come from my imagination and wasn’t something I’d walked in on one day. But I digress. Another moan drifted out from the bedroom, and I sighed again. It was just too damn bad that the walls were so paper thin. I could leave, sure, but there weren’t many places for me to go. Not free places, anyway. I slunk to the living room and flopped on the couch, resigning myself to the noisy soundtrack. We’d worked it out so Jamie got the bedroom and I slept on the couch, and my rent reflected my sacrifice. I rolled on my back and stared up at the ceiling. I suppose it was my own damn fault for being early. Not that I’d had much say in it. That’s what happened when you got fired. Or laid off, rather. Such a succinct term for financial ruin. It had been a pretty crappy job in the first place, one in a long line of crappy jobs. Just enough to survive, not enough to build a cushion. Jamie liked to say the working industry was designed that way purposefully. He had a whole rant all cued up about the government keeping the bottom of the pyramid of success nice and fat, just in case anyone asked. Just to be clear, no one ever asked. I wasn’t saying he was wrong. But theorizing about the philosophy of economy was probably more interesting when you weren’t on thin ice and one paycheck away from slipping through an ever-widening crack. My slightly under full-time job as a gas station clerk barely paid the bills. I subsidized the rest by picking up food delivery gigs. But my car was now held together by duct tape and hope, and the only thing it was good for was breaking down on me on my way to work. Hmm. Look at me finding that silver lining. I had no job now. No more breaking down in traffic on my way to the gas station. The owner decided that three workers were one too many and that he could get the job done with two. “You’re three,” he informed me as if I hadn’t already seen the neon writing on the wall. I’d filled out four job applications on the way home. The cashier at Dunkin’ Donuts hadn’t seemed too jazzed about my interest. Admittedly, if they extended me an offer, they would rue the fucking day. When in regards to donuts, the phrase never get high off your own supply was a challenge, not a warning. The headboard started banging rhythmically, and I scowled in the direction of the bedroom. Hopefully, the john was the overly excitable sort and he’d finish quickly. Although that would mean I’d have to face Jamie that much sooner, and I wasn’t looking forward to it. He was one of my only friends in the world, but I wasn’t sure how long that would last if I wasn’t bringing in my share of the rent. He already shouldered most of the burden of our food and utilities. Now that I thought about it, Tuesday was his slow day, so he didn’t have any other clients after this loud motherfucker who only seemed to know one stroke—jackhammer. I had to get a new job. Quickly. Easier said than done. My