“If I handle your mistress and gain her permission, will you go out with me?”
She gave me a pathetically sad excuse for a smile. “Yes.”
“Why were you crying?”
She looked away, but then turned back. “My grandfather loved Sinatra, and I loved my grandfather.”
“I’m sorry it made you cry.”
“Eminem makes me cry too.”
I laughed. It came from my gut and I fell just a little bit in love. My hand went to her hair and I slid my fingers through the loose strands before bringing a section to my nose.
“You’re weird,” she said, the corners of her mouth twitching.
“Thank you.”
I stood up and walked back over to the piano. The Bosendorfer’s makers were about to have a heart attack. I moved the bench further back and out of my way. I needed room.
It was time to show off my mad skills and I started the beat I needed first. Then I started rapping Loose Yourself.
I looked over to the back booth and saw a delighted smile peering at me. No tears, just a smile to die for. In my opinion, this was Eminem’s best work and defined the artist’s greatness. I knew every word and I set out to wow my future date.
I rapped while looking into her eyes but her grin slowly faded. Hope and longing replaced her smile. It hit me in the gut, but I never stumbled over the lyrics. When they ended, I knew I was in over my head but also knew if I could learn to swim, I might not drown.
Chapter Ten
Angela…
I stood during the last verse and then walked out of the lounge. He never stopped watching but he didn’t follow. My heart wouldn’t quit its frantic gallop as I made my way back to my rooms.
By the time I reached my door, my giddiness had turned into pain. Pain from the inside, needing to get out. I walked into the kitchen and looked at the butcher block filled with knives. My hands gripped the counter and I closed my eyes. I needed to scream but not here. It would bring hotel security running.
I was walking out the door again before I even realized it. The elevator opened into the low light of the club. Sydney stood behind the bar, but she was busy polishing glasses and didn’t see me. I walked straight to the back rooms and opened the last door on the right. I closed the door behind me and walked into the bathroom. I turned the cold water on full blast in the walk-in shower and stood under the spray, clothes and all.
I screamed.
I don’t know how long I stood under the water, but strong arms reached in and pulled me out. Two voices spoke soothingly to me as towels were wrapped around my shaking body.
It was Damian and Lydia. They both loved me and kept me safe from myself. I should be proud that I somehow managed to keep from hurting myself, but all I felt was numb.
The keening I heard was coming from me. My throat hurt and I knew I had to stop making noise.
“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay.”
“I need to check her body, Damian. We need to remove her clothes.”
I tried to shake my head but Damian held me too tightly. It felt wonderful but they were Lydia’s husband’s arms, and not the ones I wanted. They loosened and then removed the towels from my still-shivering body.
I barely felt the rest of my clothes coming off. Lydia kept talking to me in soothing tones. Right now she was just my friend. I didn’t want to think about what would happen when she went into Domme mode. She would be so disappointed. Tears slid down my cheeks.
“We love you, Angela. We love you for what’s on the inside. Your love for Abigail, your heart of gold, and the way you let Raul cheat at checkers and beat you every time. You’re worthy of our love and we don’t give it to just everyone.”
I was picked up again and then placed within the fold of Lydia’s arms, as she sat on the couch. This was the way it was after a scene, my favorite time. A blanket lowered over both of us, and a sigh escaped my throat as I snuggled closer against Lydia’s warmth and comfort.
I finally opened my eyes. I knew Damian stood next to the couch but I wasn’t expecting to see Krispin standing beside him. The pity in his eyes made me look away.
I managed to breathe in and then exhale. This was for the best. I didn’t warrant a man like Krispin. The outside of me might be beautiful, but my insides were a mess. Even a bad boy didn’t deserve the pitiful excuse for a woman that was the real me. No one did.
***
Kris…
I left the lounge and made my way to the penthouse. Lydia needed to hear me out. My palms were sweaty when I stood outside the ornate double doors trying to decide what I would say first. I raised my hand to knock but the door opened and Lydia stood looking at me.
“The cameras have been watching you for the past five minutes and now I’m worried. What’s up?”
I heard a phone ringing in the background and Damian’s deep voice answering. Suddenly his arms came around his wife and squeezed. She peered over her shoulder.
“It’s Angela. She’s in the back room at the club. It’s not good.”
Two pairs of unforgiving eyes looked at me. I had no idea what to say.
“I’ll fucking kill you.” I was surprised fire didn’t spark from her eyes.
They both turned to the private elevator and I followed without an invitation. The ride down seemed to take forever as Lydia threw a torrent of violent words at me. None of my songs used the endless profanity she spewed my way. Damian held on to her, but I think it was more to keep himself from pummeling me than letting his wife loose to do the damage.
I had no idea what was wrong but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out it was bad.
The club showed no outward sign that anything was wrong. I followed them both as they sped across the tiled floor to the private rooms.
A woman dressed in employee attire stood beside the last door wringing her hands. The closer we got to the door, the louder the muffled screams sounded.
In all my life, I never heard anything like those terrible sounds of pain. Suddenly I was afraid for them to open the door. Lydia was running now, bursting through the door, and rushing toward the origin of that endless scream. I followed and watched helplessly when they pulled Angela out of the running shower.
Damian held Angela while both of them continuously murmured words of endearment. I stepped back when he carried her from the small room. Nothing they said quite registered until Lydia wanted to look at her body.
My gut tightened. I’d seen it in rehab. Blood covering the walls from a young woman who managed to find a razorblade and cut deep gashes over seventy percent of her body before someone stopped her.
Much later, during group therapy, the girl explained that she was a “cutter” and that she wasn’t trying to kill herself, only to relieve the pain. How much pain, I had thought then, did it take to make someone slice their body open? Now, I was looking at Angela and wanting to kill whoever had caused her so much suffering. I had no one to fight and could only watch helplessly while Damian and Lydia took care of her.
Finally, Lydia sat down. Damian lowered Angela into her arms and placed a blanket over the two of them.
Green eyes opened and looked around, stopping when they met mine.
Those beautiful eyes were full of desolation; no hope, or happiness. Just complete and utter despair. I needed a drink and a double shot wouldn’t do the trick.
Chapter Eleven
Kris…
I paid no attention to the whispers as I stalked through the lobby and into the ground floor bar. The drink clinked down in front of me minutes after I placed the order. I removed the cutesy toothpick and downed the liquid. Then I ordered another.
“Do you really think two wrongs make a right?” Damian asked.
I laughed. It wasn’t funny.
The next drink slid in front of me but before I could grab it, Damian grabbed and swallowed.
“Christ, what is this shit?” I was surprised he didn’t spit it out.
“It’s warm Mountain Dew wi
th a hot lemon twist.”
“Is my vodka too high class for you?”
“I don’t drink alcohol. Or, did you forget?”
“I didn’t but that fucking shit needs to be chased with alcohol. Sorry I can’t join you in your sobriety but I really need a cold one.”
“At least you can’t be kicked out of your own club.”
“That’s what you think. My wife would kick me out of the hotel using her spiky high heels and not look back. I’m only glad our baby needs a father. Lydia is pretty pissed off right now.”
“Will Angela be okay?” After what I saw, I might never be.
“She’s stronger than you think. This would have been very bad a year ago.”
“You don’t think that was bad?”
“From what my wife tells me, the episodes have slowed and actually improved.”
“Is the person who did this to her someone I can kill?”
“No, or they would already be dead.” Damian’s voice was flat.
“That’s good and bad. I really need to feel bone crunch beneath my hands.”
“I know but I would hope by now the shit you just drank would have taken off the edge for violence.”
“Will your wife ever let me within a hundred yards of Angela again?”
“After what you saw, do you think you should be?”
“Staying away isn’t an option.”
“Well, then, I guess you’re lucky our daughter likes you and you’re capable of singing her to sleep.”
“I’ll work on my lullabies.”
“That’ll help. Are you going to tell me what happened?”
“I asked her out on a date, sang Sinatra, and rapped some Eminem.”
“I guess we’re lucky she didn’t blow her brains out.”
“Ha ha, you’re so funny. Do you mind if I order another drink without you rudely confiscating it?”
“I don’t plan on touching anything you’re drinking unless hell freezes over. I don’t think my taste buds could survive another shock of that magnitude.”
I ordered another and we sat in silence, until the whispers and glances began to weigh on me. Damian must have felt them, too, for he suggested we get out there.
“Do you have a destination in mind?”
“My office. We can order more of your piss and maybe I can enjoy another beer.”
“You’re on.”
Even with the heavy office door, the low thrum of bass thumped into the room. I needed it. Music was my world. Damian pulled a two-liter Mountain Dew from behind the bar and I was now drinking straight from the bottle.
I couldn’t delay the discussion any longer. “Are you going to tell me what the hell is going on?”
Damian took a long pull from his beer. “Angela’s biological father died when she was young. Afterward, her mother brought a string of boyfriends through her apartment. Some were okay and others were not.”
“Define ‘were not.’”
“Child Services removed Angela from her mother when she was nine. They took her after she told a teacher the man in her house touched her inappropriately. He’d been there for two years. The touching was more than just simple touching. Angela was no longer a virgin. She went to foster care for a year but finally her grandparents were located and she was turned over to them.”
“Fuck.” I stood up and began pacing. “Is he dead?”
“Yes, her mother killed him.”
“What?”
“She died too, after six years in prison on a twenty-year sentence.”
I sat back down and placed my face in my hands on the desk. I looked back up after a few minutes.
“She told me Sinatra and Eminem made her cry.” It was a stupid thing to say but my brain wouldn’t wrap around what Damian told me.
“You know you would both be better off without the other. Both of you are thoroughly fucked up.”
“Yeah, I know. But I can’t get her out of my mind. It’s not just her looks, it’s like she’s calling to me on some level I don’t understand.” I looked straight into Damian’s gaze. “And I’m much stronger than you think.”
“Of that I have no doubt. She’s strong, too, but two good people don’t always make a good couple.”
“I won’t give up.”
“And you think a vanilla date will take care of all your problems? Angela doesn’t do vanilla.”
“What does she do?”
“Resists pain, buries it. She feels too deeply and holds it inside until it explodes like it did tonight. She has a steady therapist and she’s been better since Lydia collared her. She needs to belong, she needs to be wanted, and to add gasoline to the fire; she hates her beauty. The child molester told her how beautiful she was every time he raped her.”
Lead weights grabbed my feet and I sank under the murky water in my mind. Maybe I wasn’t strong enough after all.
“Christ, I don’t know if I can give her the pain she needs. I haven’t touched a woman in that way since Dixie.”
“Nicole didn’t complain.”
“She only wanted a little slap and tickle. I kept her busy thinking of other things.”
“That’s what Angela needs most; other things to think about and other things to live for.”
“You sound like you might actually be on my side.”
“Hell, my wife’s going to cut off your balls and serve them for dinner. She’s in the same room with me when I sleep so hers is the only side I’m taking.”
“I hope you’re joking about the balls.”
“It’s the red hair and my daughter has it too. I’m a man walking the Green Mile most days. If I can get her pregnant again with a boy this time, I might be able to even the score. But right now, I’m completely outnumbered.”
“What if the next one’s a girl too?”
“I almost have enough money to buy myself a trip into outer space.”
“I only see you with a pack of redhead goddesses.”
“Stop or I’ll throw you to the lions. And, speaking of lions, it’s time we entered the den.”
Chapter Twelve
Angela…
I had my own room in the penthouse but Damian took me into his bedroom. I’d slept between Damian and Lydia twice before but that was over six months ago. It wasn’t about sex then, only safety. It always amazed me how accepting Damian was of his wife’s sub.
I heard him speak softly on the phone to the doctor before kissing his wife and walking away.
“Did you go to your therapy appointment today?” Mistress Lydia asked.
“No, Mistress.”
“Then we need to talk about that first.”
“I cleaned my apartment.”
“You should have called me.”
“Yes. Mistress. I should have.”
“You didn’t cut yourself.”
“I kept my promise.”
“Not completely, but you tried.”
“I’m sorry, Mistress.”
Her hands went to my shoulders and I felt instant relief at her touch. “Did you see Krispin outside the club?”
“Yes. Mistress. He was in the lounge but I was there first and couldn’t get past without him seeing me. I tried to hide.”
“What did he say to hurt you so badly?”
“He asked to take me out on a real date. Only a date.”
“And you told him?”
“I told him I belonged to you and I could only go if you agreed.”
“But, you want to go?”
“Yes.” My tears started falling again. More than anything I wanted to be normal. I wanted more.
“Was that it, was that all that happened?”
“He sang Sinatra and Eminem.”
I could hear the smile in her words, “I guess I won’t kill him then.”
“He only sees my pretty face, but now he’ll see the ugliness too.”
“Hmm, out next session will be painful but right now I want you to tell me one good thing about yourself.”
&n
bsp; Mistress had attended a few therapy sessions with me and this was one of the coping skills the therapist told her about. “I don’t weigh enough to break your husband’s back when he picks me up.”
She laughed and relief slowly began sinking into my body.
“Tell me another, but this time, do better.”
“Krispin sniffed my hair and I told him he was weird.”
“Give me another.”
“I looked at the knives but walked away.”
“Another.”
“Abigail loves me.”
“We all love you.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
She lay on the bed holding me and quietly recited all the good things she thought of me until the doorbell rang. I heard Raul’s voice and then Dr. Marks entered the bedroom. Lydia told him in detail what happened. He sat on the side of the bed and took my pulse speaking softly, asking me questions.
“You did well, Angela. I would like to give you something so you can sleep.”
“Yes, Sir.”
I barely felt the sting in my thigh and knew the drug would take over quickly. I closed my eyes and waited for him to leave. A few minutes later, the doctor was gone but Mistress’s “fuck no” made me aware that everything wasn’t okay. My heavy eyelids opened.
Mistress blocked the door. I could blearily see Damian and Krispin behind her and I tried to sit up.
Damian took Lydia and moved her from the doorway. My vision doubled and two Krispins kneeled down beside the bed. It made me laugh. But then, for just a moment, my vision cleared. He wasn’t laughing. His eyes stared deeply into mine.
“I’ll never sing Eminem to you again but I still want my date.”
The world went black.
***
Waking up, I realized I was no longer in Lydia and Damian’s bed. I was in my penthouse bedroom. I rolled over and saw blue-jeaned legs resting in the chair beside me. His head was slanted at an awkward angle, propped up by his hand, and he slept. I hated the word “beautiful” but for the first time in my adult life, I admired beauty. His features weren’t perfect; his nose was just a tad too large, his lips a little too full for a man, but the combination made him appear perfectly beautiful. I could watch him like this for hours.
Bad Boy Dom Page 4