Angel (Club Nymph Book 2)

by Abby Gale

  And I smiled.

  I knew who I was now –I was his… and he was my everything.

  February 26, 2014–Day 41

  I was burning.

  No.

  I was freezing.

  My skin was prickling or maybe there were needles that bit my skin. I had an itchy sensation, but it was deeper than a simple itch; maybe I was in pain.

  I shook with the cold, my teeth were chattering.

  Then, a suffocating warmth started again.

  It continued with the crazy rhythm: cold, hot, cold, hot… freeze, burn, freeze, burn.

  Then it tickled. A giggle broke free from my throat until the tickling started to irritate me. Something was moving on my arm, starting on my fingers it moved till it reached my shoulder. I touched my arms and rubbed them, but the irritating feeling didn’t go away. It was like thousands of spiders were moving on my skin, but there was nothing I could see and the sensation was deeper. I bent my fingers on my arms, let my nails bite my skin and scratch my flesh furiously. But the irritation only increased, it went deeper and deeper till I felt it in my head like something was trying to suck my brain out. Then it stopped and started again with more intensity.

  Then my intestines started to bend and swirl. A hunger was eating my insides alive, like another creature trying to crawl out of my skin. It was consuming, maddening, an irresistible need for something –the drug.

  My ears started to hum. It was like there was a fight in my mind. I couldn’t breathe easily, my lungs were on fire. The wheezing sound was heard but I didn’t know if I was the one who made it. My lungs kept contracting and I was in panic. It felt like dying.

  Putting my hand on my throat I tried to remove the invisible collar. The pain my nails caused on my sensitive flesh made me gasp for air. The small pain cleared my mind just for a second, but the delirious need pulled me back by the chains around my neck.

  “Mike,” I tried to whisper. I wasn’t sure if he heard me, the humming in my ears made it impossible for me to hear.

  Where was he anyway?

  I tried to focus on my surroundings to be sure that he didn’t put me back in that room.

  Thank Goodness, I was still in his room.

  But… where was he? Why did he leave me alone?

  I was dying and it wasn’t a peaceful sleep. It was a nightmare.

  “MIKE!” My scream shook my body. I put all my strength in it. When I heard the hard thud of the door I was heaving to fill my lungs with air.

  “Angel?” He ran toward me and wrapped me in his arms.

  “Stop this…please, Mike… I… can’t.” I dug my nails into his arms. “Make it stop, please. Just stop this.”

  “Shh, I’ve got you. Focus on my breaths, time your own with mine,” he whispered in my ear, caressing my hair soothingly. “That’s it. My good girl, keep doing it.”

  When my breathing turned back to normal, I noticed his fingers on my skin. His hold on me was tight, almost painful. His lips moved from my ear to my neck, sucking and nibbling my skin. I was still shaking, my insides were still clenching with the hunger I felt. I was desperate, needy, agitated.

  “Please, I need the shot. I want it. Please,” I started to beg him, but my voice trailed off when he fisted my hair and pulled my head back. “Stand up, Angel,” he growled to my ear. I didn’t protest nor didn’t have the strength to as he walked me toward the wall, placing my hands on the cold concrete. “I’ll hurt you so good you won’t need the numbness of the drug. You’ll want the pain I give you.”

  “Mike, please… just one shot, just once-” My whine turned into scream when a pain erupted on my back. It stroke like a lightning on my mind, blinding me and the hunger that was consuming my body.

  “Focus on the pain, focus on me. Let your mind wander to the happy place only the pain can give you.” Mike’s voice was ragged and excited at the same time. It sent a thrill through my spine.

  Another strike of the leather met with my skin and I screamed again. It was good to scream, I felt like my lungs opened and sucked all of the air, causing a short tempered dizziness to take over my mind like I was drunk or high.

  The third strike pushed me higher.

  The fourth pushed me over an invisible line.

  The fifth wasn’t even painful.

  The following touch of the leather was like a caress on my skin, soothing and freeing. My pain, my frustration, my sorrow, and all filthy things that covered my soul leaked through my eyes with my tears.

  By the time he was done I was in a state of euphoria. It was intense, tiring but cleansing at the same time. I sighed dreamily when his arms came around me, protecting me from everything and giving me the comfort I needed.

  At that instant I felt like my heart cracked open and reached for him.

  That moment I felt like I gave my heart to his hands and I didn’t even felt terrified by that idea. I trusted him with my body, with my life, and with my heart as he molded my soul the way he wanted it.

  And I didn’t care about anything else but the soothing whisper of his breath in my ear and the cleansing touch of his filthy lips on my neck as my soul cried blood through the scars he opened on my back.

  He was breaking me like he broke my skin and I was being born through my blood.

  MIKE –Nat’s captive: Day 5

  Nat’s body is red, covered in blood. She can’t even cry anymore and her screams are long gone. She is too tired and too much in pain to do anything else but lay there, shaking, and take whatever I do to her.

  I gave her some water and bread, though; I’m not that heartless.

  “Please, kill me.” I hear her say.

  I smirk at her. “All in the good time, Cupcake.”

  “Why are you doing this?” she whispers.

  “Because I loved you, Mommy,” I mock her. If there is only one thing I’m glad in this life it is to know this bitch isn’t my mother.

  “Mike, please… stop. I’m sorry, okay? Stop,” she whispers again. Her voice is so hard to hear with all the screaming she did for whole five days.

  Drawing some circles on her skin by the blade in my hand I smile at her. “I’ll stop… but not before I fuck you with this knife and then I’ll fuck you as your blood drips off your body, coating my cock… I’ll stop after that.”

  I should torture her longer… I should torture her at least eighteen days –a day for every year I lived in this hell. But five days work, too. Five days for five whole years that they made me watch and participate in their sick games. Five whole years that they broke me beyond repair.

  *****

  Red.

  All I can see is red.

  Everywhere is covered by her blood –the room, the bed, her, and me.

  I watch her in fascination as life leaves her body with the every drop of her blood.

  I watch her almost hypnotized as she writhes under me to give her last breath.

  I place a kiss on her open mouth as everything stills in the room.

  “Rot in hell, Natalie. I promise we’ll see each other there again.”

  *****

  I heard the police sirens before they barge into the house, but I didn’t move a muscle.

  I didn’t even bother putting my clothes back on.

  The best part is watching the disgust and shock expressions on their faces. They are afraid of me. I don’t even hold the knife as they’re putting the guns in front of my face, but they are still afraid of me. Because they know what I can do, they see the monster in me as I sit in front of my last art piece.

  I don’t fight as they put me inside of the police cruiser.

  I don’t fight as they drag me to the police station.

  And I don’t talk as they try to interrogate me.

  After hours of their effort I finally say one thing:

  “I want to call my father, Henry Harrison, the senator.”

  March 2, 2014–Day 45: New life

  “Mike!” I yelled out for him.

  I woke up in
his room, alone, and the itchy feeling was slowly showing itself, making my body hot and cold at the same time just like the last five days. The need was getting weaker as my back got worse from the whipping.

  “Mike!” I called out one more time, fisting my hands on my side, causing my nails to bit my skin.

  “Angel?” he entered the room with a towel around his waist. He didn’t need me to explain what the problem was, he came to me, wrapping his arms around me, protecting me from my demons.

  “Shh, you’re strong, babe. You don’t need this. All you need is me and I’m here, with you. You don’t need anything or anyone else,” he whispered in my ear, repeating the same words till they became the only thing on my mind.

  The hunger was still there, waiting to unravel my strength, showing its ugly face in the surface, but it was so much weaker when his arms were around me.

  I didn’t need the drug.

  I didn’t need the numbness it provided.

  I needed him…only him.

  “Mike,” I whispered, turning in his arms to face him, straddling him as his arms held me close.

  “Mike,” I moaned, grazing my lips to his, rotating my hips on his lap.

  He wrapped my hair around his fist and yanked back, forcing me to look at him. He looked as if he was laughing at a joke I didn’t know about. His green orbs were shining bright with amusement as he said, “Welcome home, my angelic little slut.”

  I didn’t know what he meant, but I loved the sound of that, being called his.

  I tried to lean into him for a kiss, but his strong hold on my hair stopped me.

  “What do you want, Cupcake?”

  His other hand moved up from my waist to my breast, squeezing it roughly before continuing its path to my neck. I felt his nail graze the sensitive skin of my throat, causing me to gasp. He wrapped his hand around my throat, applying enough pressure to let me know I was at his mercy.

  “Answer me!” he ordered sternly.

  “You,” I whispered, not trusting my voice as his fingers got tighter.

  A smirk formed on his face, “How do you want me?”

  I felt my eyebrows rise in surprise. I was his yet he was asking what I wanted, I adored him in that moment. “However you want. I want to please you,” I whispered.

  “Will you do whatever I want?” he asked, unwrapping his hand from my neck, bringing it under my t-shirt to my ass. I let my head fall back with the pleasure he caused by squeezing my ass. My hands were desperate for contact, clawing his chest as he sucked my neck.

  “More,” I moaned.

  “Take it off,” he growled into the crook of my neck, lifting the fabric from my body.

  I ripped the t-shirt from my body, waiting for his next command. He dropped the towel to the floor before ordering, “On your knees.”

  I felt a little scared with the look he had in his eyes, but my mind was screaming for me to please him.

  He pulled me by my hair until I was between his legs. It hurt, but not bad.

  “Open,” he growled, tracing the shape of my lips with his cock. I held his hard shaft in my hands, leaning down to lick the side of his cock, giving his skin wet, sucking kisses all the way from its base to the tip.

  “Take me in your mouth. Show me how hungry you are for my cock,” he instructed, pushing his cock into my mouth.

  “Fuck! That’s right, slut,” he groaned, pushing his hips upward.

  I tried to relax my throat, letting him ease down, but he was big and I couldn’t take him more than half way without gagging. I lifted my chin up, causing his head to rub the roof of my mouth.

  “Fuck! That’s my good little slut. Show me how far you can take me,” he said, pushing my head down onto his cock. My eyes watered as I gagged on his shaft. I forced myself to breathe through my nose, my hands clawed his thighs as he continued to fuck my mouth. I gasped for air, saliva dripping from my chin when he released the hold on my head.

  “Get on the bed. On your hands and knees. Wait for me,” he instructed as I tried to catch my breath.

  My senses were on high alert as I did as I was told. I heard him shuffle around the room, but I only focused on doing what he said, waiting him obediently. A few seconds later, I felt him behind me. His hands roamed on my back, on my ass.

  “Rest your cheek on the bed, ass up,” he ordered, whispering in my ear as he hovered on my back. I was panting with anticipation.

  “You look so good like this, babe. I’m gonna start slow with you.”

  Before I could decipher the meaning of his words, I cried out with the sudden pain, the crack of the leather on my skin was deafening in the silent room. I tried to lift my head to see what it was, but before I could see anything I felt him wrap something around my neck…a leather… a belt.

  This felt familiar in a way that I couldn’t remember, but also it was so different, so new. I was full of fear, arousal, excitement, and eagerness to please. I groaned as he pulled me back by the belt, tightening the material around my skin, causing it to bite my sensitive flesh.

  “Shh, don’t make a sound. This is nothing compared to what I plan on doing to you,” he said, sucking and biting my shoulder.

  “You want to be a good girl for me, right babe? You don’t want to disobey me, right? Because if you don’t please me you know I have to punish you, right?” he asked, pulling the belt tighter with each question. I shuddered because of his tone, afraid of displeasing him. I slowly nodded, wanting nothing but to please him.

  When he pushed his cock inside me with punishing rhythm, pain brought me some wicked pleasure. His thrusts were rough and deep, he touched the places no one else could. He held on my hip like his life was depending on it, his fingertips bit my skin and his hand wrapped tightly around the belt.

  He fucked me like he was trying to kill me yet he worshipped my skin like he was trying to touch my soul.

  He saved me from that death cell.

  He took care of me.

  I owed him my every breath.

  And he owned every inch of my body as he built my pleasure from the pain.

  He owned my body, my soul, and my mind.

  Doctor’s Office–January 27, 2016

  “What did you feel till that moment? Till he got you out of that room?” Cynthia asked, her gaze was penetrating, studying every muscle of my face.

  “A lot of things.”

  “Try to name them for me, please,” she probed.

  “At first, I remember I was angry and scared. Then I recall feeling guilty,” I started. My voice was slow, unsure, trying to remember a distant memory.

  “Guilty? You said that before… why did you feel guilty?”

  She stopped my train of thoughts with this question. This was what I tried to run away from, what I tried not to remember, what caused me to seek relief from drugs. I considered not answering, but I knew she wouldn’t have that. I sighed, letting my mind wander to the dark places where I was miserable, useless, in sorrow…till Mike.

  “Because I invited all of this to my life. I was careless, so obsessed with a story I didn’t see the danger,” I answered. My words should have sounded painful, but it was far from it. It was cold, like I didn’t believe in my own words.

  “Do you regret it?” she asked this time, arching her perfectly shaped eyebrow.

  “No.”

  “Okay…” she said, nodding her head as she took notes, “What else did you feel?”

  “Alone, hungry, crazy…then I felt focused again, like I found my gravity. I felt affection and…love,” I felt a smile forced its way on my face as I thought about him… Mike.

  Cynthia’s hands were clasped in front of her, looking at me carefully. She studied me for awhile before asking, “Did you ever think about Dawn?”

  Her question caught me off guard. I didn’t know how to answer as the guilt washed over me.

  “At first… yes, but then…no.”

  “Have you ever heard about brainwashing, Angel?”

  “Yes. Why do y
ou ask that?”

  She ignored my question and asked, “Have you ever thought he brainwashed you?”

  I quickly stood on my chair, rage boiling inside me,“No. Never. He would never do that.”

  “Okay. I’m sorry, Angel. I’m just trying to understand. That’s all. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

  “Do not talk bad about him! He might have made some mistakes, but he always took care of me,” my voice trailed off toward the end.

  “Okay, Angel. I got it,” she said and changed the topic with a forced smile on her face. “You said you didn’t regret any of it. Why?”

  I tried to laugh, but it sounded like someone strangled me. CC would never understand this… but I still gave her the truth:

  “Because if I hadn’t done what I’d done, I might have never known Mike.”

  March 12, 2014–New life: Day 10

  After Mike had gotten me out of that room, I never returned to that hell. Mike treated me like a precious thing. He fed me, took care of me, kissed me, touched me, and fucked me. He was always gentle with me except during sex. During sex he was a different man, not bad, but someone rough… like someone pushed a button on him, switched him with a man who had an animal inside. And I loved that side of him. My feelings for him grew each second. He was my everything; I couldn’t think or care anyone –or anything– else but him.

  My body was still trying to recover from the withdrawal of the numbness. A fog in my mind was still a threat to my consciousness, but I wasn’t sure if I really wanted that fog to go away. I didn’t know what was under it… and that scared me. When I found happiness after days in hell, I was afraid to dig in what my gut feelings were trying to tell me, what the muffled screams under that fog was trying to remind me of.

  The alarm of the oven brought me back to the kitchen where I was staring blankly, without seeing, at the canvas on the wall. A shiver ran through me as I gave attention to it for the first time. With vegetables and fruits, that canvas would be a good kitchen art if there wasn’t blood running through each vegetable with the touch of a knife. I rubbed my wrist as I still looked at that “art” on the wall; a mild pain that radiated from my wrist to my body distracted me and reminded me of the painful cut from the cable ties from last night.