Dirty Angel (The List #2)

by N. K. Love

  I don’t even notice when Mr No Name shamelessly crept up behind us but he’s reappeared and attempts to dance with me again. Obviously not having much luck anywhere else. Sorry mate, you’ve got zero chance. I glance quickly over to see if I can spot Jax but he must still be with that girl somewhere doing God knows what. Hold on, so he was texting me whilst he was with her, he has no shame.

  Instead of hitting the panic button I go for courteous, shaking my head politely, gesturing to show him that I’m dancing with the girls.

  I turn my back to him hoping he’s got the clear message but he persists by dancing up behind me, with one arm snaked around my waist.

  This guy is delusional if he thinks he can continue dancing where he left off before. He puts his other hand on my back but this time he slips his fingers around the side of my ribs beneath the material. At the start of the night this would have upset me but now it just pisses me off.

  Why couldn’t he just leave it? Now he’s fucking with my night by making me feel uncomfortable. I turn to face him so that he has to remove his hands and I can see he’s leathered. That’s no excuse though. He is clearly aware of what he wants and he is going to go for it regardless.

  The girls saw me with him earlier so they aren’t paying us any attention. I try to dismiss him again discreetly, still not wanting to make a scene. I really don’t want to cause a fuss and vacuum the life out of the party when everybody is having a great night.

  I shake my head and clearly mime ‘no’ to him, like I’m trying to calm a savage dog. So that he knows not to step toward me again, I put my right hand out but low so it’s not obvious to others. I wonder if that’s subconsciously so my good hand is free if it needs to be. He suddenly reaches out, forcibly grabs my bad hand and yanks me towards him shouting in my ear, “You’re just a fucking prick teasing bitch aren’t you!” His breath reeks of alcohol.

  All I can feel is his fingers gripping hard across the top of my hand. It’s been feeling fine but the way he’s twisted my hand and is squeezing my bones hard, it really fucking hurts.

  Okay, this is the moment my left hand should react. Self-defence Beth, come on. Punch him like you punched Medacious Mike. But I’m glued to the floor. I’m aware that the way he’s holding me, concealing our hands between us, must look innocent to everybody else. After a couple of seconds I compose myself and step back but he is still holding my hand tight. Maybe I should kick him in the balls instead because he isn’t backing down.

  I look into his cold drunken grimace. He’s no backing down and now—on a busy dance floor—I feel vulnerable and scared.

  In slow motion, a huge fist connects with the side of his face. His eyes roll back, followed by his head. His limp hand lets me go and his body crumbles to the floor. People instantly step backwards, forming a circle of onlookers.

  Jax. He is here. He puts his foot on this guy’s throat as a warning for him not to move. Then he gently lifts my right arm towards him, rubbing the top of my hand.

  “B, are you okay?”

  I can’t take my eyes off the creepy creature on the floor as he withers into a feeble fool with his palms up in surrender to my gorgeous gladiator. Then I move my attention to Jax’s protective hands and notice his knuckles on both hands look sore and have grazes across them, that doesn’t make sense…

  He leans down to my ear so nobody else can hear.

  “Angel?”

  I click out of my trance to look directly at Jax and he is paying absolutely no attention to the idiot under his shoe. He is fully focused on me. He looks at me attentively, awaiting a response. I nod slowly whilst my eyes search his back and forth, trying to have a whole different silent conversation.

  I’m overwhelmed; not by the pushy pisshead or even the punch but that familiar feeling of protectiveness oozing from Jax. It’s something I’ve never felt before meeting him, which sounds pathetic considering I was in a long term relationship. But this is powerful, it’s heart-warming... It’s hot as hell and makes me want to wrap my legs around him here and now.

  Okay, that wouldn’t happen but… it doesn’t stop the urge.

  Back to reality and I shrug everything off again, saying that I’m fine, wanting to sink into the walls. Security arrive, they clearly know Jax as they don’t ask any questions, just physically remove Mr No Name with his bleeding mouth and bruised ego.

  Once he’s been taken away, the circle is refilled with dancing bodies and it’s like it never happened. It was all over and done with in a few minutes and thankfully the partygoers don’t seem fussed.

  I really hope this isn’t going to reflect badly on Jax or get him into trouble at work. I know that guy was hurting me but it wouldn’t have been as bad if it’d been my other hand. He did overstep the mark and scare me but I’m not sure he deserved to get punched.

  Thankfully it had the desired outcome though. I was starting to freak out. Nobody has ever intimidated me like that. But it’s certain that he’s no match for Jax.

  I just don’t like confrontation, usually avoiding it as best I can. When I hit Mendacious Mike last week that was the first time I’d ever struck somebody. That’s why I put it on the list, I was so curious to see how it’d make me feel to give somebody a slap who deserved it. Obviously, the cheating revelations upped the ante from a slap to a punch. It admittedly gave me instant gratification. In hindsight though, it was definitely a short term fix for a long term problem.

  Jax is still holding my hand and rubbing his head back and forth with his other hand. Everybody else is carrying on with their night around us. His expression is one of anxiety and confusion, with his eyes glazed over, it’s like he’s mind is somewhere else. I lean up to his ear.

  “I’m fine G, honestly. Thank you.”

  It’s as though my words snap him back to reality. He quickly hands me back over to the girls. Katie fist pumps him in appreciation of his good work. I’m guessing she and everybody else figured out pretty much what happened.

  The music has slowed down as the night begins to wind down. Five minutes later I spot Jax talking to a couple of the big wigs in suits, presumably clarifying the matter. God I hope he doesn’t get into any trouble because of me.

  I need a break from the dance floor, which is gradually emptying anyway. Craig is the only one of the lads not otherwise engaged. Man, if this is a taste of what the Devon weekend holds, the coach needs to pack a suitcase full of condoms. There’s been people canoodling all over the place this evening, including Jax.

  I sidle up to Craig to say “Hi”.

  “Hey Beth, what the hell was that all about? One minute I’m chatting to Jax and the next he’s parted the crowd like Moses to smack some dude.”

  “Yeah, it was just some guy pushing his luck. Thankfully it didn’t spiral into a brawl.” I say with a look of horror at the possibility of Jax getting hurt over me. But Craig finds my remark amusing.

  “Beth, not many people would be stupid enough to square up to Jax… Trust me. In the last three years, I’ve never seen him lash out. It’s totally out of character for him…”

  I can’t keep the sarcasm out of my voice, “Are you trying to tell me he’s really a gentle giant?”

  “Hell no, he’s as ruthless as they come but I’ve never actually seen him hit anybody—” Craig actually looks baffled “—just pulverise punching bags, mitts and kick shields… Or any of his sparring partners, me included!” Then he mutters almost to himself, “I hope everything’s alright with him.”

  I immediately feel paranoid, thinking he knows I’m staying there and he’s insinuating I’m fucking with his head. But Miss Sensible points out the expression on Craig’s face; he’s genuinely concerned. Plus Jax is off work at the moment so Craig’s just surmising.

  I check my phone and it’s 2:05am. The adrenalin has disbursed and I’m starting to feel more tired than I am tipsy. But, as I stare across the room to Jax, I can think of nothing other than thanking G properly, if he’ll let me. Whilst my phone is in my hand, I
thumb out a text. I need to gauge his mood first.

  Ur making a habit of bein my hero G but was that necessary? x

  I see him reach into his pocket, he must have his phone on vibrate. He glances around and sees me beside Craig. I look away and carry on chatting to Craig.

  Sorry. It was the quickest way 2 get his fuckin hands off u. R u a bad influence on me? Wat r u doin 2me?

  I’ve been asking myself the same thing about him. Hmm no kiss, is he annoyed with me? I can’t see his face properly in this darkness so I can’t read him.

  I need playful Jax back if I’ve any chance of showing him how much I appreciate everything he’s done for me. Not just tonight either.

  I don’t know. Wat wud u like me 2 do 2u G? x

  2:48am

  Jax

  My life is fairly simple, perhaps fictitiously so, but my Little Miss Contradiction seems to attract challenges that defy my façade at every turn.

  Is she a bad influence on me? I honestly don’t know the answer. Right now, all I know is that for the second time in a week, she’s resting her head on my chest in the back of a cab, in my arms and she’s safe.

  If she’s with me, she’s safe and we’ll go back to my sanctuary, where nobody can hurt her.

  Who the hell was that dickhead and what was he doing at a party specifically for 24/7 employees and members? Security are going to try and get me some info and if he shouldn’t have been there, it’ll be their heads on the chopping block. If that’s how he treated her in public, God knows what he’s capable of in private. That little stunt gave me enough reason to release the pent up tension I’ve let build up over the last few hours.

  Beth obviously had heads turning all night long. Men ogling her at every given opportunity. I tried to distract myself and appear engrossed by other people—women specifically—but it was pointless. I could just about cope with her dancing with other men, so when that sleazeball had his filthy hands all over her, it made my blood boil.

  I swear she was willing me to do something at one point but I must’ve got it wrong because she happily followed his lead when he pulled her away. That was the breaking point for me. I went to walk out of the place there and then, but stopped across the room to confirm my suspicions, like a glutton for punishment. I saw her leaning against him up the wall kissing, with his hands all over her.

  Up crept the anger. Anger at myself not Beth. She’s done nothing wrong. It’s me and my stupid fucking lack of self-control. Instead of leaving – which, in hindsight, I’m glad I didn’t do – I spotted a girl who I’d rejected earlier and tried to lose myself in her. It didn’t work, I just got more frustrated. I was unable to shake the image of Beth with her lips on somebody else.

  I ended up bolting. I needed to get some air and felt much better after pounding a billboard outside. I went for a brisk walk to clear my head. I was heading back to the venue and exchanged a few texts with Beth. It was just good to know she wasn’t still with that idiot.

  But once I’d got a drink and returned to the lads, I was confronted with the unwelcome sight of the same dirtbag. This time, he was putting his hands inside her dress, which put me on tenterhooks. I had to hold my breath and count to ten in my head, to stop me from reacting. Thankfully she made the right choice to fuck him off and I was grateful. Until a second later when he grabbed her and dragged her and I saw that vulnerable look in her eyes. I couldn’t get to her quick enough. I swear I had to limit myself to one hit even though he deserved more.

  Shouldn’t I feel relieved now?

  I’m far from relieved. Instead, the tension has been replaced with a nauseating rage in the pit of my stomach. It’s like a fiery ball of ‘what if’ questions that all relate to Beth. Now she’s hypnotically stroking the knuckles on my right hand as it rests over her shoulder, planting caring kisses and rubbing her cheek along my fingers.

  I hate that I love that she wants to take care of me. There’s absolutely no need because I’m completely undeserving.

  That ball of ‘what ifs’ expands within me. What if somebody violates her? What if I’ve overstepped the mark? What if I’m wrong about her? What if I’ve lost control? But worst of all, what if I can’t protect her from the one person I need to—me?

  I take my arm from around her shoulders. I can’t focus if I’m touching her. Shuffling to the edge of the seat, I lean forward and rest my elbows on my knees. I’m rubbing my head with my hands, a sign I’m becoming severely agitated. I sense Beth scoot slightly away from me, she’s right to retreat. I know she can read me better than I care to admit.

  Why can’t she come to her fucking senses, put us both out of our misery and declare that I’m a bad fucking move, move out and move on?

  This goddam cab is taking forever. The roof’s closing in, I’m feeling claustrophobic, suffocated. Confused by her pure innocence versus my immoral guilt. The car twists and turns down the dark country lanes. We’ve already gone past the layby, our layby.

  We’re about a mile from the house but I can’t stand another second. I need to get out of here before I explode.

  “Stop here.”

  The driver’s surprised but makes the right choice not to question me. Beth doesn’t utter a word either. I throw fifty pounds onto the front passenger seat and get out hastily, slamming the car door behind me. Walking away from the car, I fill my lungs with clean air. I can breathe again. I don’t know if Beth will follow or even if I want her to. If I was her, I’d lock the doors and get the cab to drive as far away from me as possible. But I’m not her and she doesn’t have a clue about me, not really.

  I hear the other side door close and footsteps click towards me. That’s when I realise that I’m pleased she’s still with me and she hasn’t bailed.

  My fingers are plaited on top of my head as I face away from the car, I hear it pull off. I’m not panicking any more but the turmoil continues to take over and my heartbeat is hammering through my chest.

  I’ve stepped outside of my boundaries when I said I wouldn’t and I’ve complicated shit when I said I couldn’t. I’ve allowed myself to feel for somebody when I said I wouldn’t and I’ve let somebody in when I said I couldn’t.

  Beth cautiously comes into my line of sight and carefully moves towards me with a look as though she’s approaching a feral animal. She looks worried and timid—I’ve done this to her. I tip my head back to face the night’s sky in disgust at myself and solemnly concede that this is more than just Beth putting a chink in my armour. This is a catalyst and I’ve no idea what it’s precipitating.

  Surprisingly, Beth slowly wraps her arms around my waist and buries her head in my chest. She may be confused but she doesn’t hesitate around me, she is fucking strong. As good as this feels, I don’t think soft and caring is what I need right now.

  Gazing at the stars, I will for divine intervention. I need a power greater than myself to do for me what I’m not capable of doing. In answer to my calling, it’s like our spirits have connected again, engaging in a wordless conversation as our energy shifts.

  Is she what I need or am I deceiving myself into believing that it’s true?

  We simultaneously make eye contact and she unwittingly does the only thing she could do right now to bring me out of this downward spiral. Her moonlit face dons a sultry, unmistakably raw, take-me-now look. Any negative whispers only resonate in one way when it comes to her. She is absolutely oblivious to the power she holds over me and maybe on some levels, so am I.

  My turmoil instantly transforms into a craving for her body. It’s just like every time our eyes meet or our skin touches—she feels it too. I know she does. I’ve gone from wanting to protect her, to wanting to lose myself in her; physically and mentally. She’s like my puppeteer, lassoing strings around each limb, persuading me to behave differently.

  We’re completely defying our no strings pact. I should walk away now but I can’t and I won’t.

  Now how the hell is this going to play out? Answering my unspoken question, Beth
leaps up and wraps her legs around my waist, knowing I’ll catch her. Before I know it she’s kissing me with a hunger I completely relate to. My hands span across the full length of her soft naked back and I let my dominant need for her overshadow and lock away the darkness that’s unsettled me. We lose ourselves for a moment, then she pulls away, breathless.

  “Jax, I don’t know what’s wrong… but if it’s me, I’m sorry.” She kisses me full on the lips. “If you want to talk that’s fine but if not, that’s fine too. I’m here.”

  Please stop being nice to me. “Don’t apologise. I’m just, battling some demons. I don’t want to t—” Swallowing my words, she kisses me again and my hands settle either side of her generous juicy peach.

  This kiss is different, it’s needy and fast then she pulls away sharply. “Good, because I don’t want to talk either.” Putting her fine lips to my ear she whispers in a slow, sexy, controlled tone. “I just want you to fuck me Jax.”