Angel (Club Nymph Book 2)

by Abby Gale

  Mike secured the plastic around my wrists tighter than it should have been and it broke my skin as I tried to yank my hands off of it during Mike’s punishing rhythm. I shook my head, focusing on preparing dinner instead of the slight fear of yesterday.

  I wasn’t scared of Mike. Mike would never hurt me… badly. I was just scared of disappointing him and going back to that room of madness. Remembering that room gave me shivers, made my heart rate increase with horror.

  I prepared his plate quickly, trying to think nothing and almost ran toward his office. He could ease the horror inside me. He was helping me to not think anything else but him. He was like my isolated room, silencing the voices in my head and making everything easier for me.

  “Mike,” I called for him when I failed to open his office door with a plate and his drink in my hands.

  He opened the door and waited there, his eyes roaming around my body with hunger in his gaze as I wore only his t-shirt like he asked me to do.

  Demand you to do, a voice whispered in my mind, but I silenced it with a smile on my face. I liked the way he looked at me with want in his eyes, I wanted him to be happy with me. I wanted him to take care of me like he did when he rescued me from that room.

  He grabbed my chin and took my mouth in a rough kiss that left me breathless; I had hard time to not drop dinner. “I have some work to do. Put those on the coffee table and sit on the floor,” he told me, sitting back behind his desk.

  I did as I was told, without any question or comment and studied my surrounding. This was the first time he allowed me to come here. The room was simple yet beautiful. All the furniture were gray oak except his chair and the sofa in the room –they were black, but the room wasn’t dark as I assumed it would be. Maybe the toys in the corner of the room were the reason why the room looked almost homey. I frowned at the toys… lots of brand new cars, trucks, game cards were sitting on the floor. On the shelf behind them, there was more, but those looked worn out, shapeless… I wasn’t even sure what some of them were.

  I looked back at Mike. He looked so powerful, grown up and dangerous with the scar on his face –scar that I gave him, but couldn’t remember why– I wonder why a man like this would make a collection of these toys. The curiosity was so intense I couldn’t stay silent.

  “Can I look at them?”

  Mike turned his gaze to me from the computer. I could feel his anger because I talked without his permission, but I didn’t back down.

  “Can I look at them, please?” I asked again, pointing the toys in the corner.

  “They are mine,” he growled.

  “I… I’m just gonna look. I promise,” I said slowly, trying not to frown. With a curt nod, he gave me permission, but I felt his gaze on my back as I studied the cars. I reached for one of them when something got my attention.

  “Be careful,” Mike said sharply behind me and I only nodded, drawing circles around raw surface of the toy. One word was scratched on every toy: Mine…

  I’m an obsessive man…

  I heard a whisper at the back of my mind, but I couldn’t put my finger on it… from where I remembered that or what that meant.

  All I could think of was the word written on the toys: Mine…

  March 12, 2014–MIKE

  I watched her closely as she touched my things with a cute frown on her angelic face. She was touching MY things. I was about to make her mine, too, just like the things she touched.

  She had made so much progress since the day I brought her here, but she wasn’t mine yet. Her body was mine. Her mind was mine, but I wanted her soul and her heart, too. I would never stop before I owned her whole existence.

  I spent lots of years having nothing for myself.

  I spent my years on a big fucking lie.

  I lived in hell for the woman I thought was my mother. But she wasn’t MY mother.

  I had been forced to get pleasure from situations that were wrong. The pleasure was never MINE.

  I spent lots of years with the name of Michael Lane because my father was ashamed of me, because my father didn’t give me the money I had every right of using if I used his last name. Even my name wasn’t MINE.

  And I was done with all of these things.

  I took my life in my own hands and I was making whatever and whoever I want MINE.

  And I wanted her to be mine. MY Angel, MY whore, MY woman… all MINE.

  March 17, 2014–New Life: Day 15

  I woke up to the voices; one of them belonged to Mike and the other belonged to another man, but I couldn’t recall the voice even though I found it familiar. I sat up and winced at the tautness in my neck. Rubbing the end of my neck slowly I walked toward Mike’s study. The door was ajar so I could see them.

  Mike was tense, I could easily say it with one look at him. His scar was more pronounced, the angry red tissue was jumping at attention. His shoulders looked broader as he stood on guard. His eyes were throwing daggers at the man in front of him.

  I looked at the other man. I could only see his profile from where I was, but there was something familiar about him. I remembered hearing his voice before. His hair color was similar to Mike’s, but slightly more in place even though he looked like a mixture of rebel and formal.

  “The police have visited the club, Mike. Twice. You’re putting the club at stake. I am sick of your bullshit! I shouldn’t have listened to my dad and gotten you out of that clinic. I should have kept you locked in that mad house. I shouldn’t be bothered with your fucked up shit.” The man exploded.

  “Lower your voice, William. If I go down you’re coming with me. I know every dirty little secret you’re running in that club and if you don’t have my back then your ass is in danger,” Mike growled. His voice was low but full of threat. I wanted to crawl in a corner with fear.

  “I know!” William shouted, but he continued with calmer voice, “Stop rubbing it on my face. Whether I like it or not we’re brothers, but you need to be more careful.”

  “Girls come and go to the club, Will. That always happens. No one will find anything,” Mike said, nonchalant.

  “Her sister is suspicious of the club!”

  “She has a sister?”

  “Yes, you fucking psychopath! She has a sister and she is blaming the club for her disappearance.”

  “Have you seen her? Do you know anything about her? I can take her out and problem solved.” A strangled voice escaped from my throat with Mike’s threatening tone, I immediately put my hand on my mouth, hoping they didn’t hear me.

  Dawn…

  Dawn was looking for me.

  I wanted to run and find my sister. I wanted to warn her about the danger and to tell her that she should stop looking for me.

  My secret note…

  Had she found it?

  I wanted to hurt myself for being so selfish. She shouldn’t have been in danger, she shouldn’t have known anything about the club.

  Guilty… guilty… guilty…

  Selfish… selfish… selfish…

  I fell down to the floor, rocking back and forth; I didn’t even notice I was crying till the tears wetted my bent knees. Same words were chanting in my mind: Guilty, selfish.

  “Take this file. Ruin it or hide it, it’s up to you. But if the police would have found that we would both have been arrested today,” I heard William say.

  I felt excitement soar in my veins for the first time for a long while; it was alive, awakening, and thrilling. There was a desire that pushed me to have that file and read it. I stood up and ran toward the couch in the living room. My eyes were focused on the door they were in. William opened the door and waited for Mike to come out with him, but his eyes were on me as Mike put the file on his desk. I fought with the urge to run toward that file and grab it from the desk. I wanted to know what that file said about Mike. I wanted to know more and more about him. There was a bell ringing at the back of my mind, warning me of danger and darkness, but I wasn’t scared, I was excited.

 
During my stay with Mike, I started to like darkness and what it could bring me. I remember the time I was afraid of Mike, even angry at him, but that was before. Now, I was just getting off with the idea of seeing the beast inside him. Seeing his eyes go darker, his face slips off of the mask and becomes animalistic as he fucks me was my favorite time, my favorite show to watch. I came many times screaming his name when he turned into that beast in front of me.

  I wasn’t terrified of that beast anymore. I craved the beast inside him, I desired the pain he could deliver to me and I wanted to feel that delicious euphoria of his filthy caresses on my body with the leather or with his cum or whatever he saw fit.

  “Try not to ruin her so fast. The club won’t handle another disappearance right now.” I heard Will say to Mike, but I couldn’t comprehend what he meant.

  “Mind your own business, bro,” Mike snapped at him. His eyes were on me and I liked the intensity of his gaze, the softness merged with the underlying lust.

  Will didn’t know what he was talking about. He thought Mike was ruining me.

  Ruin? Such a strange choice of word.

  Mike wasn’t ruining me… he was saving me.

  Doctor’s Office–February 1, 2016

  “Do you think he saved you?” CC’s voice was soft, sterile from all emotion and judgment.

  I looked out of the window. It was sunny outside and all I could see was green. Was this place hidden in a forest?

  “Angel?” I turned my eyes to the doctor.

  What did she asked? Ah…

  “Yes, of course he saved me.”

  “Very well… can you tell me what exactly did he save you from?”

  What kind of stupid question that was?!

  “Didn’t you listen to what I’ve been telling you?” I wanted to roll my eyes and snap at her for her stupid questions, but my voice kept being robotic and my body was stoic.

  “I listened to you very carefully, Angel. I just don’t want to miss any details on the things you told me,” she said with a small smile.

  “He saved me from drugs, from that room…” I trailed off with the sudden pain of losing him. He saved me from everything yet I lost him, he wasn’t here with me anymore.

  “I thought you said he was the one who put you in that room, he was the one who gave you drugs,” she said. Was her voice daring, challenging or was it me?

  I turned my head back to the window and focused on the trees, trying to count them. “That was different,” I answered her irrelevantly. She didn’t understand and she didn’t seem like she would understand anytime soon.

  “People are strange,” I blurted out, but it got her attention. Her eyes sparkled with interest that I willingly told her something aside from answering her questions.

  “Yes, they are. Care to elaborate why you’re thinking like that, Angel?”

  “They think they know everything about what is right and what is wrong. People think there is only black and white in the world. People expect you to act, feel, think in a certain way. But it’s not like that. It never is.” Even though my thoughts sounded passionate my voice was indifferent, stoic, and robotic.

  “They advise you to be strong, keep your head high…” They expect me to not love him, instead hate him, I thought but didn’t tell her that. “They frown on you if you do something they don’t agree with and they will never understand you till that happens to them.”

  CC was playing with the pen between her fingers. “Yes, being in someone’s shoes makes the whole difference.”

  “If they’re not in my shoes and if they are assuming I should act or feel at the certain way and if I don’t… does that make me guilty, wrong, sick? Does that give them the right to judge?”

  “Is that how you feel? Like you’re being judged?”

  “Isn’t that what you’re doing here? Judging me, trying to understand what kind of fucked up I am?”

  “No, Angel. That’s not what I’m doing,” she said, but I think my thought was written on my face this time even when I had robotic mask on she continued. “Human psychology is a strange thing, Angel. The things we’ve been through put marks on our minds, good or bad. They shape your life because they have a power over us. Here, I’m trying to understand the marks on your mind so you can live your life without problems.”

  “How to live my life without problems? Without him, you mean?”My voice cracked at the end.

  She placed the pen in front of her and put her hands on the table, close enough for me to hold if I wanted. “Yes, Angel. I want to help you to live your life without him after everything you’ve been through. I know it won’t be easy, I know you have a connection with him, but I want what is healthy for you.”

  “You’re making decisions for me. You’re deciding what is good for me.”

  “No, Angel. I’m just trying to understand you and help you to see what is good for you. But at the end everything is up to you. You’ll decide how to live your life and I’ll be just the help in the background.” Her voice was sincere and confident. I considered of believing her.

  “Now it is still your decision, Angel. Will you let me understand you? Will you let me help you to carry the weight on your shoulders?” she asked after a few minutes of silence.

  I turned to look outside again. A blue bird stopped in front of the window and hit its beak to the glass, putting a small smile on my face. When I talked the smile was still in place.

  “Okay… help me how to live my life after all this.”

  MIKE – Age 18: Hello, father

  First, they laugh… the police officers. They think a piece of shit like me cannot be the son of the senator.

  Tell me about it, I snort.

  Finally, they call him. They don’t have another choice since it is the only thing I’ve said them since they brought me in here.

  A police officer tells the situation to Henry’s secretary I assume and when he gets the Henry Harrison onto the line, he hands me the phone.

  “Hello, father.”

  “Who are you?” he whispers. His tension is palpable even through the line.

  “Your son, father. Remember Natalie? The prostitute you fucked even when she was underage? Ring any bell?”

  I chuckle as all the police officers look at each other with the same shocked expression on their faces. Like father like son, you see guys, I think to myself.

  “Stop talking. Stop! What did you do?”

  “I fucked her and I killed her… I’m not sure if that’s the right order, though. Somewhere along the way things might have mixed up a little, you know?”

  “You son of a-”

  “Son of a bitch? Yeah, I know… literally. Oh but you don’t know…she is not my real mother. They fucked you up for years.” I chuckle.

  “How do you feel about all this, father? I’m sure you had fun as fucking two women at the same time, yeah? But you liked the young one more, didn’t you? The taste of forbidden… a young pussy for you to fuck in exchange of a few banknotes?”

  “Shut up!”

  “How about my real mother, Daddy? Have you ever thought about the woman who killed herself because she loved an asshole like you?”

  “Shut the fuck up! Stop talking, you hear me? You won’t talk about me, understood? You won’t say another word about me and I’ll take care of your situation. You won’t go to prison, but shut your damn mouth. Did you understand me?” he barks.

  “Yes, father.” I smirk to the line with satisfaction.

  *****

  It only took a few hours for Henry Harrison to come to the police office with full secrecy, of course. Everyone in the building has been forced to sign an NDA about the whole thing. My name in the records hasn’t been deleted, but it’s been put on the top secret category which is just as good.

  A professional psychiatrist has been brought within minutes and the verdict of my mental health hasn’t taken longer than seconds to be announced. The car –a black SUV with tilted windows- has been already waiting outside to
take me into a madhouse.

  I don’t talk during the drive.

  I don’t fight.

  And I don’t take my eyes away from the man in front of me, my father.

  He is uncomfortable, trying to look anywhere else but me and I smile.

  Finally, he sighs in defeat and meets my eyes.

  “This will be the first and last time I’ll see you. I’ll put you in my legacy and you’ll take what you have rights to, but only after when I died. Till then, you’ll stay under the radar and once you get out of this madhouse you’ll change your name. No one will know your relation to me but the lawyer. Got it?”

  I smirk. “Are these terms written anywhere?”

  He looks at me like all he wants to do is kill me and gives a nod to the man who is sitting with us in a stoic expression. He pulls out a file and hands it to me.

  Everything is written.

  “Who is William Harrison?” I ask when I notice whatever Henry has been divided between this William dude and I.

  “My son,” Henry answers.

  “And I have half of everything he has?”

  “Yes. You see, I’m being very generous to you and all I want in return is to keep my name clean,” he glares at me and he looks definitely relieved when the car comes to a stop in front of the Forensic Psychiatric Hospital, madhouse in a nutshell.

  When the doors open I turn to the man I will never see again before going out of the car.

  “I agree to all the terms, father… and I hope you die soon to rot in hell with others.”

  March 19, 2014–New Life: Day 17

  I woke up with fondling on my ass. His grip was tight on my bottom I couldn’t help moaning. I wriggled toward his crotch wantonly. My reaction wasn’t even shocking anymore. I wanted him, I wanted him to take me, make me his, pull me into his darkness deeper and deeper till there was no light, no hope. Because the light was confusing me, giving me hope that I might get back to my life, and it only pained me more. So instead I wanted to wrap myself with his darkness, wanted to stop the small whispers that were telling me to fight. I wanted him to suck my soul so I wouldn’t feel any more pain. Acceptance was easier. Acceptance was my key to survive. Acceptance was the savior of what left from my mind, from myself.