High Class Harlot (Switching Tracks Series Book 2)

by Delia Steele

  “Chico, babe, it’s for you.” He grabs it and smashes it to his ear.

  “Yeah? You sure? Who fuckin’ narked, dude? Rosaria OK? A’ight, bet.” He throws the phone down. I note that he said my mom’s name, but I can’t bring myself to care. I’m slipping back into my dream. I hear the hustle of people moving around and Chico screaming. Who cares what he’s saying? That shriveled-dick, drug-dealing, ass fungus can eat it.

  “Hey, girl, if I can’t get my dick wet, you got to go. Someone called the cops on your ass for being gone, and the cops showed up at your dad’s. Folks got scared and narked to stay out of trouble. Led the cops back to your house, and now your pop’s under lock. So get the fuck up, and get out!” he screams at me.

  “Stop, Charlie, I’m tired!” I scream back, kicking him with my feet as he pulls me off the bed. My head hits the floor hard, causing me to whimper. “I hate you, Charlie Wilson! You’re nothing but a jerk with a Tic-Tac-sized penis and a scabbed-up ass infection.”

  Next thing I know, Chico has me thrown over his shoulder and is carrying me out the door. As we pass through the doorway, I notice the girls are loading bags in a car just as he slams my head into the doorframe. I scream and grab my head. “Stop, Charlie! That hurts!” I try to get him to drop me, but it doesn’t work. He grips me tighter.

  “Stop it!” he screams in my ear. He points to the blonde chick. “Follow me in the car. I have to drop this fucking rich-bitch loser off.” He starts towards Gran’s trailer, and I go into hysterics.

  “Don’t you take me back there!” I kick and fight with all I’ve got. He digs his claws in deeper.

  “You’ve been nothing but trouble to me. I dealt with it for Balt, but with him going down, you aren’t even worth a good fuck.” I see Gran’s place come into view, and I plead one last time, hoping he will just take me with him. I don’t want to face those people. They expect too much from me, and I can’t give it to them. #Imafailure

  It has to be close to dawn because I can see the sun trying to peek over the horizon. I’m surprised when Chico gets Gran’s door open easily. Wonder why it isn’t locked?

  As we enter, I see why. Rory’s apparently been up, and she looks atrocious. A cup of coffee sitting in front of her and tear stains defacing her cheeks, she looks neurotic, ready to attack anyone who crosses her. Oh, shit . . .

  (Clay)

  I hear a noise. Not sure what it is, I jump from my restless sleep and take off into the living room. I have a bittersweet thought… Mando’s come home. But then I really note what I’m hearing, and my thoughts change to Rory beating Mando’s ass. I speed up.

  When I get to the end of the hall, where the living room connects, I see it all in slow motion. Some guy I can only presume is the Chico character is sprawled across the sofa, hand over his mouth, blood pouring from his jaw. Mando is in nothing but a t-shirt and panties, curled up in the corner. Her legs are drawn up, and tears are pouring down her face. Then I see Rory. In that moment, I know why Rome loves her the way he does. This woman would take down the government itself if they tried to harm her family. In a wild frenzy of crazed carnage, she stands over that lowlife thug—that idiot with his pants belted at his knees, that drug-dealing piece of dirt—bringing down the house. He can’t move. Every turn, every swing, she puts every ounce of her body weight behind it. Aurora Tate has snapped. And she’s wielding Gran’s plunger. She is swinging that thing so hard that, when she connects with his jaw again, he screams like a school girl, his rotten front tooth flying across the trailer linoleum. Ladies and Gentlemen, put a fork in this fool because he is done!

  I stand unmovable, amazed at what I just witnessed.

  “You piece of shit motherfucker! You tried to drag her down with you, didn’t you? You tried to make her like you! I will rip your insides out! I will fucking kill you!” she screams at him as she raises the plunger again. Rory is a force of nature when she is angry. WHAMP! I swear, I think she just cracked the sound barrier. “You stay away from her, you drug-infested piece of dog shit.” WHACK! “I.Will.Kill.You.I.Swear!” she growls in slow, harsh breaths while continuing to rain blows down on him. Then, from the corner of my eye, I catch sight of Gran. She is making her way into the living room and, help us all…

  “Gran, is that a shotgun?” I shout. She has it seated against her shoulder and pointed right at Rory and Chico.

  “Sure is, Clayton. And as soon as . . .” I hear another thud and turn my attention back to the beatdown still taking place. Rory now stands over Chico’s limp body with a murderous look in her eyes, still gripping the shredded plunger.

  “I would never let a man hurt me, and I sure as hell won’t stand by and let one hurt my best friend.” Tears are pouring down her face, her eyes are wild, and her hair is sticking up everywhere; but she is strong in her resolve to defend Mando. She will not be derailed.

  “Move, Aurora, baby. I have him now. I’d hate to go and shoot the wrong asshole out from between someone’s legs,” Gran says with an insane, Joker-sized smile plastered across her face. Right now, I’m scared for us all. Gran looks more like a crazy house escapee than the sweet old lady I know her to be.

  “Hey, pendejo, you had enough? Or does Rory need to feed you another round with my shit pusher?”

  I am still watching the battle play out when a gasp from Mando snaps me out of it. I jump into action and wrap her up in my arms. My poor broken girl is so lost and scared. I brush her hair out of her face and whisper words of encouragement and love in her ear as I continue to watch this loser piece of shit get his ass handed to him. I would deal with him myself, but Rory has left little to do. He can barely stand on his own, his hand covering his bleeding mouth and his right eye already swelling.

  “You fuckers is all crazy, yo! You deserve each other! Crazy-ass bitches!” he screams as he limps to the door. “I fuckin’ took care of that broad when she ran from you uptight fuckers. She came to me.” He jabs his finger into his chest to emphasize his point. He’s right. She ran from me and right into his arms. She chose him over me. I’ve lost. And Chico just keeps twisting the knife in my heart.

  “I understand her. All these years between us and all the lies. Yet she chose me because you don’t know her. You want shit from her she can’t give you,” Chico fumes at us as we stand there watching him. He spits blood in Gran’s floor, and I hear the “click, click” of the shotgun loading the bullet into the chamber. Chico’s eyes go big. “I’m out of this shithole. Y’all can have the crazy drunken whore. She is so wasted and strung out she don’t know who she is anymore. That’s OK. When she realizes where I left her, she’ll come running back. She will always run back to me, just like the rest of my hoes do.” He grabs his nuts as he walks to the door. Then he stops and looks right at me. “And you, dude. You deserve better. She told me how you treat her, and her ass don’t deserve that shit. She deserves the life her daddy created for her. She ain’t no saint, but damn, the look in those eyes when she stares up at you from between your thighs is heavenly. Yeah, I know why you put up with all the shit in her world. Dope daughter and all. ‘Cuz the broad can suck the head right off its stick.” He grabs his junk again, and I lunge, but I’m too late. Gran has unloaded a round right by his head, missing him by half an inch. He tucks tail and hauls ass out the door as fast as he can go. I stop in my tracks and watch him through the hole Gran just blew out of the side of her home.

  “Well, shit. I forgot this thing kicked a little, so I missed that little fucker.” I turn to look at her, and she is smiling a huge smile. “Next time, I won’t miss… Next time…” She turns on her heel and heads towards her bedroom.

  I look back at Mando. Rory now has her wrapped in her arms and is crying with her. I slowly take everything in: Gran walking down the hall with a shotgun in hand, the two girls bawling in the corner, the hole in the trailer.

  “What the FUCK is really going on?!” It spills from my lips before I can stop it. I still can’t believe it all. Even knowing he’s the one who broug
ht her in half-dressed. She has been cheating on me with a thug. A loser. Some guy who was using her. I step out on the front porch and slump down the wall as pain engulfs me. I feel like my soul is burning out. How did I end up in this mess? Is she worth it? Can I keep fighting this battle? All these questions rattle around in my head. I don’t know how long I sit outside, lost in my head, but when the door opens, Rory is fresh and calmed, and the sun is high in the sky. If I weren’t so weak from fatigue, I would think I had fallen asleep. My legs are sore from being pulled to my chest so tight, and my head is pounding from my deep thinking.

  “She needs you, Clay. I helped her get clean and changed, but she hasn’t stopped crying. She won’t let me help her, and I think it’s because it’s not my place. She’s hurting, and you’re the only one that can heal that pain.” I look at Rory, not sure what to say. I drop my head and shake it. I can’t. “Clay, listen to me. She did NOT sleep with that cockroach. Do you hear me? She didn’t. He was just getting under your skin. You know her, and she loves you. She has from the moment she claimed your Mandoconda. You’ve been hers, and she’s been yours. She is loud and eccentric and likes to wild out, but she is the most loyal soul I know, and you should know that about her, too. She is hurt, and whatever the fuck that shit was Chico was talking about her being a dope daughter, something is going on, and she is afraid to tell us. Go to her, please. Save this. Don’t give up on her. Not yet. Not when she needs you the most. Please.” I gaze into her pleading eyes as she begs. And then I do what any good man would do: I suck up my wounded pride and stand, ready to do what’s right for the woman I love. I run my hands down my face a few times and look at Rory.

  “We all crumble at some point, Rory, and we aren’t all as strong as you. It isn’t giving up when you’ve exhausted all your options!” I don’t mean to snap at her, but my anger gets the best of me. I turn and storm into Mando’s room, where I expect to find her sleeping, but she isn’t. She is curled up in her bed, clutching the bear I gave her our first Valentine’s together. I want to scream at her, and to accuse her of cheating on me, but Rory is right—I know she wouldn’t have done that to me, even on our break. I know she still loves me. She has to. A love like ours doesn’t just fizzle out. I walk over to the side of the bed and make her sit up. It’s not easy because she is lost in her own world and not helping, but I manage. I grab her by both arms and force her to look at me.

  “I love you, Mando, and I want to take care of you. I want to be that slick thought that slides through your mind and makes your thighs clinch. I want to be the memory that causes you to squirm in your seat. The one that causes you to unconsciously run your hands down the center of your body, over your most mouth-watering parts. You think because I am educated and refined that I can’t be that man for you. You run around with trash, chasing some new escapade. Let me show you. Let me prove to you that I can be everything you want. I can be everything you need and more. I can give you the life you’re used to living. You’ve just got to stop pushing me away every time you are troubled. Don’t flee. Stay… Choose me. Accept me. Want me. Pick me, damn it!” I don’t mean to shake her, but I need to know she is seeing me, feeling what I am feeling. I need to know she understands that, without her, my life is void. I am unworthy of her love, but I hope she is as careless with her heart as she has been with her life. For me… For the sake of my sanity… I need her.

  The look in her water-filled eyes hurts me so bad. She is so distant I’m not even sure if she can see me. It’s in this moment that I realize she is my addiction.

  She mumbles, “Fix me. I’m so messed up today, but tomorrow I want to be fine. I want to be OK. Fix me.”

  I watch her to see whether she is coherent or not, and though her eyes are far away, I believe she is begging for help. I hope her mind is finally asking for what her mouth has been refusing to say. I pull her to me and hug her close. I’ve been so worried about her. I can’t believe I didn’t notice anything sooner. What kind of man doesn’t notice when the love of his life has a dilemma this dire?

  “I just want to be free. I am young and wild, but what I want is to soar.” She is crying into my ear, but she is hugging me back, so I take that as a good sign, as well. The rambles of being free and wild bother me, but I don’t dwell on them right now.

  “I just feel so worthless all the time.” I push her back and look deep into her eyes, hoping to spark her soul.

  “Amandolette, you are worth so much. Your value incomparable and everlasting. High or low, rich or poor, clean or filthy—you will always have value to those who want and love you. If you feel torn, tape it up like a ripped dollar bill and move on. You are priceless to me, Amandolette. Open your eyes and see your worth! Please!” I beg her, my heart bleeding in her hands. But the only reply I receive is, “Fix me.” I know what she wants, but she is high on something. I have to beat my desire into submission. My body is tuned in to her, to the closeness of our bodies, to her need for me, wanting to be buried deep inside her. She is my home, my happy place, and it’s been days of worry and fright over her. My body is yearning for reassurance of her wellbeing.

  “OK, hang on,” I say as I untangle myself from her. I walk into the living room and find Rory and Gran putting on their shoes.

  “Where are you going?” I ask them.

  “The police have found out some things, and we need to go check on Rosaria,” Gran answers. “Rory, here, is going to drop me at the house and go open the diner. I will be back. Can you deal with Crazy in there while we are out? It’ll probably be most of the day. If you aren’t up for it, let me know. She can’t be left alone, but her mother needs me. She can’t speak English well, and that no-good son of mine will do anything to stay out of trouble. I need to make sure things are OK and that both my girls are safe.” Poor Gran looks so worn out. This whole ordeal has taken its toll on her.

  “I got her. Go deal with your family, Gran, and I will keep this one safe. I promise.” I hear Mando snort from the bedroom as her crying intensifies, and I turn to go back to her when Gran’s hand stops me.

  “Thank you, Clayton. If ever there were a man strong enough to tame that one, it’s you. I am so proud to have you as my family.” I smile a sad smile.

  “I’m not family yet.” She pats me twice.

  “But you are, Clayton. And one day, it will be made right.”

  They walk out the door as I head back to Mando. I am full of resolve that she won’t get past me this time. I’ll keep her safe.

  When I open the door, I can’t help but stare at her. She is so beautiful. Her long black hair flows down her shoulders. I’d never tell her I miss the color she used to keep in it, but I can still see the old her in there somewhere. I know she exists.

  Mando stands before me in nothing. Her small but perfectly curved body, though smaller than I am used to, is begging me to touch her, those dark eyes calling to me on a primal level. She runs her hands down her body—one finger trailing along her hip bone while her tear-stained eyes stay on mine. When she touches close to her cunt, she moans. She needs it. She needs me. “Fix me,” she whispers. She has always wanted sex when upset. I’ve never questioned it, but I probably should. Not today, though. She is hurting, and I want to help her feel better. Maybe after a good fucking and a nap, she will be ready to talk. I walk up to her.

  “Do you know who I am?” I ask her. It hurts, but I need to know she is aware of her surroundings.

  “Clay.” It’s low, but I hear it.

  “Are you still high?”

  She nods her head.

  “On what?” I can’t help the tear that escapes my eye at the knowledge that drugs are corrupting my beautiful girl’s system.

  “X,” she whispers. “I thought it was Tylenol. It was in a bottle for headache meds. I didn’t know, I promise.” She wipes away her own tear. “Fix me. I feel so good, but so bad, too. Fix me.” She reaches for my penis, yanking me to her. “I can feel your heat-seeking moisture missile. You want me, Clay. Don’t deny me
, please.” She is begging more than demanding, which isn’t normal for her. But she’s right. My rock-hard Johnson is proof I can’t deny her. So I do what she wants. Just like always, I cave and give her what she needs. I push my basketball shorts down and motion her to come to me. As she walks to me with a sly smile, I reach out and grab her by her hips. She throws those short legs around my waist, and I slide right in. We fit together perfectly. She lets out a moan, and that’s all I need to jump start my beef whistle. I ram her against the wall with all my force, causing her to purr in satisfaction. With my arms wrapped around her hips, I dig in hard for elevation and pound into her, thrusting my hips with perseverance and determination. I don’t want her to get off; I want her to shoot off my dick like a fucking rocket in search for life on another planet. I bite down on her neck and suck in hard, causing her to buck against me and cry out.

  “You want me to show you I can be the unbreakable fuck you’re looking for? Tired of me worshipping that pussy like it’s some kind of goddess of moisture? I WILL!” I dig my hands in deeper, causing her to suck in a deep breath to keep from screaming, and I pound her pussy like a jackhammer breaking concrete. I tear into her with nothing on my mind but proving to her that I can be the man she wants. She screams, and I smile. “You want me to be rough with you?” Her head falls back with a look of nirvana, which I take as a yes, so I spin around and toss her onto the bed. I slowly crawl up her body, kissing and licking along the way, taking small bites here and there. I bury my face in her v-trap and lick all around her soft luscious lips before I attack her swollen clit that’s begging for attention. I suck it into my mouth hard while tickling it relentlessly with my tongue. I use my right hand to trace the edge of her puckered little asshole, and her whole body starts convulsing, tightening, her hands clenching the sheets beside her. Her whimpering is turning me on more. I work my way up her body and run my hand across her tightly budded nipple, pinching it hard, “Ahhh,” she shouts as she bucks again. I grip the sensitive peak with my mouth, sucking in as much as I can, while I run my tongue around and around and scratch what little nails I have along her hip bone. After a few minutes of this, I need to be back inside her. I love to pleasure her, but I need to know she’s here with me.