“Just do it for me. Please, Mikey.”
“Jess. You know this shit isn’t going to go down well.”
“Please, Mikey.” She begged.
“If I get in trouble, it’s your ass.”
“I’ll take full blame.” She had nothing to lose at this point.
“For you, Jess. You owe me.”
She blew him a kiss, taking the stage with the other girls. Of course her position being right in front of him….and her.
She heard Mikey’s voice, “This one is for the boss. Happy Birthday.”
When the song started the girls went into a routine she choreographed. She felt like all eyes in the club were watching her and Nick’s reaction. Which there was none.
At the end of the song the girls exited the stage, leaving her standing alone. This was the point he was supposed to be escorted to the stage…to her. Instead she walked to the pole, gripping it, waiting for the song she asked Mikey to play to start.
He was right. This wasn’t going to go down too well.
She could give a fuck less at this point.
As soon as Fiona Apple’s Sleep to Dream started playing she swung around the pole, making sure her backside was positioned toward Nick. She started shaking, grinding and rotating her ass the way he liked.
At the chorus she circled the pole, dropping low to the beat. Simulating riding his cock. She rocked her hips, letting everyone in the club know exactly how she rode him.
Rubbing her hands up her body, she grabbed her breasts before sliding her hands to her hair. Pretending to moan she looked at Nick, whose mouth was slightly open. His breathing erratic.
Take that, bastard.
Half way through the song she abruptly stopped dancing.
Memories…flooding back...
The first time Connie walked in on them.
In the office she just confronted her for fucking him in.
Eric confronting her. In Nick’s bedroom.
Nick escaping the blame every fucking time.
She sat on the stage, not exactly sure of what to do. Her chest tightened. Her heart started beating hard and fast, as deep seated panic filled her insides. Out of nowhere she started sobbing so hard she was gasping for air.
The more the song played, the more she started to remember. The more she remembered, the harder she sobbed. The harder she sobbed, the more she remembered what she told no one.
Not even Nick.
Eric beating her over and over as she slapped and punched him back with all her might. Forcing himself on her, the violent thrusts pushing the jagged edge of the bottle further into her throat.
Him taking the broken bottle and inserting it into her. Letting the jagged edges tear her lips and vaginal walls. Her blood covering his penis as he tried to force it in her mouth. When she couldn’t take him because of the swelling in her jaw, his pounding more ruthlessly into her for punishment.
Trembling, she tried to stand to get the fuck out of the club. Her legs no longer could hold her. She collapsed, falling back onto the stage.
Looking back to Nick, she grabbed her hair, rocking back and forth. Tears and mascara streamed down her cheeks, staining her face.
Angel jumped on stage. Bending he put an arm around her, whispering in her ear.
“Come on, bambino. Let’s get out of here. Think you can stand?”
She shook her head no.
He picked her up, noticing Nick shove Connie away getting up from the table.
“Not this time, Nick.” Angel wasn’t letting Nick near her.
Jess clutched Angel, as he carried her out of the club, sobbing quietly against his shoulder. He used his back to open the door, hurriedly exiting.
Carlo ran over to him, offering his help. “What the fuck, Angel? Is she ok?”
“No. Get the boss. He’ll need you.”
He put her in his car, scolding them both. “This shit stops now. It’s my job to protect you and dammit that’s what the fuck I’m gonna do. Even if it means I have to do so from Nick.”
Angel kept eyeing her out of the corner of his eye as he drove her back to the apartment.
She was being too quiet, lost inside the recesses of her mind.
It scared the shit out of him.
“I told you this was a bad idea. Your hard-headed ass had to do it your way.”
He waited for her usual smart-assed comeback. All he got was deafening silence.
“Jess?”
She sat there, staring out the window. Humming softly to herself.
“Will you fucking say something?” Worry evident in his voice.
“Something.” Her voice barely above a whisper.
“You’re a brat, you know that.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“What can I do, honey?”
“Absolutely nothing.”
She continued to hum.
Staring out the window.
13
When they reached the apartment, she took the stairs two at a time.
“Jess, wait-” Angel tried to catch up to her, failing miserably.
She flung open the door, going inside straight to the bathroom, slamming the door and locking it. Flicking on the lights she stared at her reflection in the mirror.
The image staring back at her was more damaged than the one in Kansas. The woman here was every bit the whore her father called her. Every bit the failure he claimed her to be.
Dear God, the bastard was right.
She hated the person staring back.
So fucking much.
She gripped the sink, sobbing. The pain had to stop. She couldn’t take it anymore.
All she wanted to do was forget everything that happened.
Her mother…her father…Eric.
Explain to Nick how exhausted she was from all of this.
The anger, resentment…hurt.
How exhausted she was…from him.
She was drowning in a sea of blackness. She felt utterly powerless.
Every time she was with him she was doing horrible things. Then she hated herself for doing them. For loving him. But she couldn’t stop. She would never stop.
Wishing she said the opposite of what came out of her mouth in Miami. Never letting go. Wishing the words she said would have pushed him into pulling the fucking trigger. For him to put her out of her fucking misery. Waiting for him, in that one moment of truth, to set her free.
Free from the pain. Free from everything.
He never would, though. Love...fucking love wouldn’t let him.
Was that not the ultimate fucking irony?
Him, a murdering bastard. Refusing to kill her. All because of love.
Even when she push him past the point of no return.
Always pushing, testing him. Hoping …praying one day he’d snap, not hold back.
More trouble than I’m worth.
Reaching into her purse she found the bottle of pills the doctor prescribed for her. She emptied half the bottle into her hand, shoving the pills in her mouth, drinking from a cup he had sitting on the sink.
Wouldn’t be long now…so fucking tired…I’ll be ok.
She threw the bottle into the sink, flicking the lights off, opening the door. Angel was waiting outside.
“I think I’m going to go lie down for a bit. I’m really tired.”
“You could use the rest, bambino. I’ll make you some tea. Nick called. He’s on his way over here.”
“Fan-fuckin-tastic.”
She laid on the bed they shared, wrapping herself in the blanket that smelled of his aftershave. Seemed almost poetic. His love, in the end, would take her home.
She gazed out the window. Silently, peacefully, waiting for the last bit of life she had left to leave her body. In her drug induced haze, she saw the lights of his Benz pull into the driveway. Conversations and events following all blurring together.
“Where you from, Kid”
“Why do you care?”
Footsteps.
>
Always the damn footsteps.
She was fading now. She knew it. She watched Nick, bleary eyed as he walked into the room. He stopped when he saw her. She smiled at him, her eyes drowsy, and sleep filled.
“Love you…Nicky…So…very…tired.” She trailed off, finally closing her eyes.
He made an animal noise, deep and guttural. Filled with anguish. “Oh my God. Jess!”
Nick screamed at her, panic and terror in his voice. “What the fuck have you done to yourself? Angel. Find what she took.”
He was sobbing, deep wracking sobs that shook his whole body, as he snatched her up into his arms.
“Jesus Jess…don’t die on me…please don’t die, baby. I know I don’t deserve you and never treated you like the princess you truly are. But you can’t leave me, Jess…please God bring her back to me. Bring her back and I promise no one will ever hurt her again. I swear. Oh God, please.”
“What the fuck did you do, kid?” Nick held her lifeless body in his arms, watching as his tears fell on her face.
“What the fuck did you just do?”
About the Authors
Alisa Anderson
Well…Alisa did stuff and is still doing stuff. Only now she has two boys crazy enough to want her to be their mommy. Hey, at least she tried to warn them. So her job is done.
She lives for a world full of controllable anatomically correct, android men programmed to meet her specific feminine needs (wink, wink, nudge, nudge with a big waggle of the eyebrows.) Who look like the Rock and Ian Somerhalder, and Idris Elba. And, that’s it she promises. Variety. Gotta have it right?
Cameron Skye
When Cameron is not in the lab working toward a Ph.D., in Neuropsychopharmacology, which in laymen's terms is basically finding the effects drugs have on mood and behavior, she is writing stories, crating vivid, intense characters you will never forget.
She believes while life can take you down every path but the right one, eventually everyone will find their happily ever after.
Special Note From Alisa
Thank you so much for reading Fallen Angel and for supporting independent authors, like myself. I love getting reader feedback, so please be sure to leave a review at Amazon or Goodreads.
Books 1-5 of the Fallen Angel, Roman Crime Family series are available now. Book 6, the final book in the series, will be available very shortly.
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Fallen Angel Part 5 Page 6
