Howie exhaled a painful breath as he stared out at the gorgeous view his bedroom veranda had to offer. The sun was just starting to dip into the ocean, setting off an eruption of beautiful hues across the pale blue sky. It was his favorite time of day, just watching as the waves gently rolled before the tide would rise for the evening. The sweetly salty spray of the ocean misted against his deep caramel skin as he leaned further back in his chair, knowing that this cool night would be spent alone. His recent romance had turned sour, leaving a pitiful ache in the center of his heart. He should have been rejoicing then. After all, he had returned to the studio with his best friends and band mates to create yet another album, Black and Blue. They were probably the hottest sensation on the market at the moment. Yet, he was still lonely.
"Howie?! Ya damn Latino bastard, where are you?!" a raspy voice beckoned from inside his lavish home, breaking away the mournful thoughts that made Howie consider the darkest of actions when he watched his other friends falling desperately, helplessly in love.
"Thanks for the compliment," Howie muttered, resting his bare feet on the railing. He continued to watch the sunset as he heard footsteps echo in the house. "I'm out here on the veranda, J!"
"What the Hell are you doing out here?" AJ blurted as he walked outside. His slightly bloodshot eyes were hidden by dark tinted sunglasses perched on his nose. "Do you realize it's Friday night? Come on, man, it's no time to sit around and not do shit. Let's go out!"
"I was watching the sunset..." Howie trailed, not even bothering to glance back at the younger man. Howie had known AJ for ages and as the years passed, both seemed to grow fonder of one another. To say they were best friends was an understatement - they were truly brothers. For the longest time, AJ had come to Howie for every dilemma. Yet, Howie had noticed a shift in the tide as AJ became wilder, experimenting with things Howie would rather not even begin to think about. Many times he had approached AJ on the subject, but it was quickly swept away without much meaning. So, Howie decided to just tolerate AJ, hoping he would straighten at some point.
"You mean moping about Sandy, Jessy, Rach--Which chick dumped your ass again?" AJ cackled, practically falling over his own two feet as he plopped into the chair beside Howie. He smelled faintly of alcohol, cigarettes, and cheap perfume, causing Howie's stomach to twist at the pungent aroma.
"Never did learn how to choose the right words, did you?" Howie scorned with a deep frown, trying to ignore the stench coming from AJ.
"Sorry, I forgot you were so sensitive," AJ laughed again, the raspy quality making the older man cringe. His voice seemed to get worse as the partying continued, but he didn't care. With the lives they led, the only downtime he had consisted of what he had just finished doing.
"I'm not that sensitive, you're just being rude. Her name was Corrine, by the way," Howie replied dryly as he turned his head to study AJ, which made him immediately cringe.
"Well, let me go buy you some booty so you can forget the whore!" AJ insisted, patting his older friend sharply on the back. "They've got a new strip club opening up down town that is supposed to be hotter than hot. The women are fresh and not to mention all natural!"
"I don't like strip clubs--"
"You really need to broaden your horizons with some broads!"
"AJ--"
"You're coming and that's all there is to it," AJ interrupted, pulling on Howie's bare arm. He would not be swayed in his decision. Tonight was their night to forget about pain and just have fun.
"Shit, J, take no for an answer," Howie cursed in shock as he practically tumbling from his chair, his feet slipping through the expensive railing of his veranda. AJ didn't seem fazed as Howie got stuck for a moment, just cackling with amusement as he continued to pull.
"Damnit, D! Stop being such a loose noodle!" AJ sighed with exasperation.
"The women at a strip club only come for a small fee with no strings attached! Even you can go in there without having the chance of your heart breaking. The only thing that might break is your dick 'cause you keep it on lockdown so damn much--"
"Stop with the graphic descriptions, please. It's bad enough you almost broke my feet," Howie interrupted, grimacing as he finally got his balance. It was best to go along with AJ a lot of the times, but he just didn't understand being tactful.
"Come on, D," AJ taunted with a low melody to his raspy voice. "I'll buy you one of those special lap dances! Any girl you want!"
"I don't need a lap dance--"
"Well you need something because if you don't get some ass soon, you'll become a virgin again."
"Better than needing penicillin shots every other month because you can't keep track of how many women you've been with or if you even used protection between romps--"
"It spoils the fun and at least I'm living life. C'mon, D, let's go already!"
"J--"
"Don't even start on your love bullshit. It doesn't exist. You're proof enough of that. So, go get your grimy ass a shower so I can pick you up some fresh ass. Damn," AJ insisted, pointing toward the private master bathroom attached to Howie's master bedroom.
"I don't--"
"Go!" AJ gave Howie a shove towards the bathroom, grinning when Howie stumbled inside and closed the door.
"How often do you come to this place?" Howie murmured in shock as AJ was heartily welcomed into the classy establishment uniquely named Devil's Playroom. They were given special VIP seating at the front of the darkened stage with the promise that the best ladies would be performing tonight. AJ grinned wickedly as he ordered a round of drinks, easing back into his leather seat as he made eyes at all the scantily clad barmaids skipping around for a quick dollar to be stuffed in various places of their skimpy clothing. Howie felt his cheeks burn with sheer mortification as everyone's gazes shifted to the two handsomely rich men stepping in for a night of fun, knowing exactly who they were. Howie could only imagine the look on Kevin's face if pictures of this night traveled through the media, so he slumped heavily in his leather seat, praying to God AJ wouldn't embarrass him.
"Lighten up, D! The women will be out soon to dance and we'll pick the prettiest for you," AJ promised with a cackle, fishing out a cigarette to light, which one seductress did quite quickly before he could reach for his own lighter. "Thank you, Doll-Face."
"You're welcome, Darling," she gave a seductive smile, running a hand through AJ's spikes. She leaned over the table, almost to the point where Howie thought her breasts would fall out of her 'clothing'. "What are you two sexy boys up to tonight?"
"N-Nothing..." Howie stammered, averting his gaze quickly.
"Well, my man over there just got his heart broken for like the hundredth time, so we're here for some live hardcore action without the strings," AJ spoke freely, allowing his expensive sunglasses to slip down the bridge of his nose. She was one of the most erotic women that AJ could have ever hoped to run into. She was somewhat shorter in stature with her long light blonde locks falling past her shoulders. The slender curves accentuated with the tightness of her black hot pants nearly exposing her buttocks and tight red baby-doll top ending at her bra line, emblazoned with the establishment’s name. Expensive rubies glittered from her nose and eyebrow as she played mysteriously with her ruby tongue-ring. AJ could only guess how she had made that kind of money. "And if you're this nice to us for the rest of the night, I'll definitely make it worth your while."
"The only whiles I have are light green and have dead presidents plastered all over them," she promised as AJ pulled her onto his lap. She grinned wickedly with amusement at the gesture, leaning to brush her somewhat bare breasts against AJ's chest as she continued to run her fingers through his locks. "And, what's your boy looking for tonight?"
"He's into those girls with a sweet disposition. You know, all innocent and shit that Britney Spears failed to pull off," AJ replied, his fingers trailing up and down her firm thighs. He could feel his blood heat at the touch of her breasts against him, and just knew he would be making her scream later that night.
"Then why'd you bring him to a place like the Devil's Playroom?" she laughed with true amusement, her blue-gray eyes glancing sideways to catch the dark embarrassment flooding Howie's facial features. She pouted softly toward him. "Cheer up, Sweetheart. We don't bite... Unless you pay extra..."
"I'm not into strip clubs," Howie muttered, barely glancing at the woman.
"He's going to love them by the end of the night," AJ promised, turning her face so she could look into his eyes. "Don't you think the girl who strips to country songs most of the time would be good for him?"
"You are a frequent flyer, aren't you?" she growled, her lips inching near his. Yet, as AJ moved to capture hers, she slid off his lap to fall between the two men. Smiling, she patted Howie's leg. "You are in luck tonight, Sweetheart! The best dancer in all of Florida is taking the stage front and center in a few minutes. You won't find anything like her probably in the rest of the United States. She's breath-taking and she'll get you hard in a matter of seconds."
"Look at our luck today, D! She's fucking awesome, trust me."
"I do--"
"I wouldn't," the waitress laughed, standing up from her spot between them. She was about to adjust her hiked shorts, when AJ reached to help her. She arched her light brows with pleasure, knowing that her boss had already stated they had to treat Mr. McLean like he was the king of the business. That meant a hands-on kind of treatment and extra attention.
Howie said nothing in response, just slouching lower in his seat in hopes to finally disappear. If any of the guys got a hint of him going to a strip club, he would never hear the end of it.
"He's shy," AJ explained as he ordered drinks from the woman, making sure to slip her a blatantly large tip. She smirked, leaning down to kiss his cheek as she slinked away. When she was out of site, AJ immediately turned to smack Howie on the shoulder. "Would you get a grip, man?!"
"I don't like strip clubs! How many times do I have to tell you?!" Howie snapped back, rubbing where AJ hit him.
"You don't know because you never come! God, I think I have more fun with Nick in puberty mode at these joints," AJ scowled, offering Howie a cigarette.
"That's because you and Nick don't think with your brain, you think with your dicks," Howie replied dryly, shoving away the cigarette.
"It's actually not a bad switch, you should try it," AJ mused as the lights started to dim and the waitress brought back their drinks.
"My philosophy about life is you've got to try everything... or everyone... once," she replied, trailing a well manicured, acrylic nail under AJ's chin
"Don't leave here without my number... Preferably, without me..." AJ grinned.
"You going to make it worth my while, Baby?"
"More like your whole night."
"If you're lucky," she murmured, bending down as the music started to cue. Gently, she pressed a hand on Howie's shoulder. "I know you don't feel like being here, Honey. But, Fallen Angel is the best dancer out there... She's worth the embarrassment."
"Thanks," Howie finally looked into her eyes and saw she was being kind.
"Thank your friend after she's done dancing," she answered with a wink, disappearing like it was custom for the waitresses to do during dances.
"Yeah, you can thank me after," AJ laughed as the lights dimmed more.
"God, you're so damn horny for getting laid all the time," Howie breathed, sinking deeper into his leather chair as Kid Rock's 'I Want to be a Cowboy' geared up with the mechanical voice. Howie's dark eyes quickly adjusted as the bright red curtain snapped backward to reveal one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen in his life.
To say she was the house favorite would have been a grave understatement. All the men in various locations released deafening howls of sexual frustration as she smiled sweetly, striding forward with her hips moving to the thick beat of the sensual music. She was a vision as her soft strawberry blond curls bounced against her shoulders, tucked neatly beneath a black leather cowboy hat. Her bright emerald eyes glittered as if she were having an affair with every man in the room, her hands sensually running over her exposed body. The black leather halter top’s buttons were slowly popped open, one by one, leaving enough room for wild imaginations as the soft, peach and cream skin of her large breasts grew in sight, revealing a young woman's gorgeously maturing body. Her lower torso was wrapped with a pair of tight leather chaps and a red g-string, exposing her small, round buttocks as she turned to gyrate her hips with the music. Smoothing her fingers over the brim of the hat, she grabbed the center pole and wrapped her leg around to spin with dedicated experience.
"Told you she was hot," AJ grinned, watching Howie's reaction. "Just admit it."
"She's not hot... she's absolutely beautiful!" Howie finally exhaled, realizing he had been holding his breath since the woman stepped out onto the stage.
AJ rolled his eyes at Howie's description as the announcer welcomed 'Fallen Angel' to the stage. She tipped her hat toward the man, obviously her beefy body guard, listening to the music as she rolled her hips, moving up the polished pole, biting affectionately on her bottom glossed lip as the men howled. "She may be beautiful, but she's only good for one thing, D... And that hardly last as long as we'd like it to."
"Not all women are just good for sex," Howie snipped back before gazing at the woman again.
"That one is," AJ smirked, hardly offended by Howie's defense for the young piece of meat working the stage. He briefly glanced back to the stage to watch her movements. Unlike the rest of the exotic dancers, Fallen Angel had a certain flow to her movements and an actual routine. She wasn't concerned about just peeling off her clothing and bouncing around for heavier tips. Her dance steps were unique and far too good for a road blocked avenue such as exotic dancing. She truly could be behind the boys' band as a gorgeous backup dancer. She liked to allure the crowd, somewhat shy as the buttons continued to unfasten from her top. The seductively adorable smile on her face gave a radiant innocence that seemed lost in such a crude institution. And the look on Howie's face said it all. "Do you like her, D?"
"Huh?" Howie broke his gaze from Fallen Angel with a frown of aggravation of being interrupted.
"Do you like her?" AJ asked, taking a long drag from his cigarette.
"I..." Howie's mouth dried as he tried to conjure a proper sentence. But, all words seemed to fall short as he studied the light haired beauty on the stage in front of him. He didn't seem that interested in the soft curves of flesh she revealed as the last button of her halter top freed. Whipping it above her head, she tossed it aside before gracefully falling to the floor with the heavier beats of the music. Howie imagined so much more when he looked at her, noticing things that didn't seem to be in the other depraved men’s thoughts. Like the faded scar trailing against the right of her lower ribcage. Or the fact that there was something deeply hidden within her emerald eyes – a secret that she shared with no one. She looked so vulnerable despite the powerfully sexual movements of her body. And those beautiful green eyes shimmered with a lost innocence that Howie had been searching for.
"It's not a hard question... Technically..." AJ murmured, reaching for his wallet as he glanced to Howie again. "Do you like her?"
"I..."
"Can you speak a full sentence for me, Howard? Just tell me if you like her. Yes or no."
"Yes..."
"Damn, that's all I needed to hear," AJ pulled out a large sum of bills.
Howie's dark brow eyes widened in horror as he watched AJ neatly pull out six crisp hundred dollar bills. Without any thought, AJ leaned forward to settle them onto the black floor of the stage with a snap of his fingers. He then settled back against the couch, a satisfied smile crossing his face as Howie wheezed in astonishment. "What are you doing?!"
"Just wait..." AJ mumbled, motioning toward Fallen Angel.
Sure enough, she had seen him place the money on the edge of the stage, because her boss insisted on her keeping an eye on the man and his associates during the entire dance. Sitting up from her neatly flexed position on the floor, she crawled toward the end of the stage like a hungry kitten eager to lap the milk from her saucer. Her sleekly defined muscles pulled and flexed with every motion, causing Howie's breath to catch again. Reaching for the six bills, she tucked them smoothly into the side of her G-string before sliding off the edge of the stage. Knowing AJ was a rich customer and already having the repeated lecture to treat him better than any man on Earth, she approached AJ, fully ready to straddle his lap. Only, he caught her by the curve of her beautiful hips and motioned to Howie.
Fallen Angel briefly glanced to her side, instantly smiling with surprise as she surveyed AJ's friend. He was handsome with short clipped, dark curls swept messily across his head, complimenting the darkness of his eyes. She nodded toward AJ, moving with the music to straddle Howie's lap. Without any hesitation, she delicately wrapped her arms around his neck, inhaling the sweet scent of his cologne. She leaned against him as she gently gyrated her hips against his pelvis, whispering against his earlobe. "You've been a very good boy this year, haven't you?"
"I... um... oh God... yes..." Howie mustered broken sentences, falling from his lips haphazardly. He felt her grind against him and felt all the blood rush to the wrong parts of his body as she took his arms and wrapped them around her bare waist.
"Relax," she coaxed him with a soft kitten purr against the side of his face. She continued to work against his lower half, pressing closer until her bare breasts brushed against his chest. It had been a long time since she had actually had a good looking man paying for special treatment. "What's your name?"
"…Howie..."
"My name is Grace. Just have fun, alright? This is my treat to you since this is your first time here," she whispered, actually giving him a kiss on the cheek. He seemed decent and handsome, just nervous about where he was.
"I..." Howie swallowed hard, doing his best not to have his body react. But, it was hard as his entire lower half throbbed with anticipation. It had been so long since he had been with a woman. A good woman. He felt himself start to tremble as she took one of his hands latched firmly to her hips. Gently, she helped him brush his fingers upward toward the soft swell of her right breast. "...It's a sweet name for a sweet girl..."
"I'm anything but sweet," she laughed, her voice cherubic and light. She slowed the roll of her hips to the pace as if they were making love, rocking back and forth as she guided his hand.
"Oh, yeah?" Howie's voice trembled slightly as his fingertips brushed against the sensitive flesh of her breast.
"You okay?" she asked, leaning back for her bright emerald eyes to catch against his dark chocolate eyes.
"I... I'm more than okay," he replied honestly, losing himself in the depth of her eyes that seemed to lead to her soul.
"Good," she laughed as she plopped the cowboy hat onto his messy curls. She looked as if she wanted to say something more, but the music stopped and the lights brightened. She squinted in surprise, still perched on Howie's lap as wild whistles exploded from every which way. She turned to see her best friend standing over to the side of the stage, tapping her chunky heel impatiently.
"Racie!" the woman hissed.
"Thanks for the dance, Stranger," Grace purred, unwrapping herself from Howie's embrace. She smiled toward AJ with a look of appreciation as he handed her another large tip. Turning, she slid back onto the stage as she grabbed the white t-shirt and bottled water from her body guard, disappearing behind the thick curtains.
"So, D?" AJ prompted.
"I... um... I can't believe I'm going to say this..." Howie adjusted Grace's cowboy hat on his head. "…Thank you."
"For what?" AJ chuckled.
"She made me feel... well..."
"Horny as fuck?"
"No! She made me feel like a person again."
"Oh God, no," AJ groaned, covering his face. "D, she's just a stripper!"
"It's not--"
"D, go to the bathroom," AJ ordered.
"Excuse me?"
"Go to the bathroom and remove the feeling of being a person," AJ demanded, attempting to gesture toward the large bulge in his friend's jeans.
Howie looked down and his cheeks turned a beet red. "There's nothing wrong with being a person. At least a person has emotions, unlike--"
"Your emotions are going to be all over your jeans if you don't do something," AJ interrupted with a sharp shake of his head. "And since you haven't been laid in so damn long, you're looking to jump to the first thing in sight. She's just a stripper, D. Good for a cold fuck. Remember that."
"This G-string is riding up my ass!" Grace complained as she stepped out into the Devil's Playground's parking lot. She tugged hard at her worn and faded blue-jeans, aching to remove the piece of clothing that she never wanted to take off on stage. Twirling her long strawberry gold ringlets into a messy hair clip, she glanced toward her best friend and room-mate, Kitra, who just smirked with enjoyment. She knew Grace far too well. The younger girl was perfectly content walking around all day in boxers and a baggy wife beater, never bothering to touch an inch of make up to her already pretty face. But, that's not what the men paid for at the Devil's Playground. So, every night, she went through the same routine, walking to the girls' car so they could go home to their apartment, away from the perversion of their jobs, stripping when she got to the door, and collapsing on the couch for a hard nap. "Kit, you're just damn lucky you get to wear those hot pants to waitress. I can't wear those on stage... And it's not even like I have an ass that those jackasses would want to see anyway--"
"Oh shut up. You have an ass those men drool over, you just don't see it," Kitra interrupted with a laugh, pushing on Grace's shoulder. "Come on, I need a favor."
"What kind of favor?" Grace questioned, arching her brows when Kitra didn't move to the passenger side of the car to jump in. Immediately, she knitted her brows in confusion, assessing her best friend's wardrobe. She was in a skin tight leather dress, laced at the sides to reveal her freshly tanned skin. It caused goose-bumps to prickle against Grace's delicate arms. "Kit..."
"Racie, please? I'm going to get too far behind tonight with my John's and you know what he'll do to me if that happens," Kitra begged, offering her best pout.
"Bullshit," Grace instantly groaned with distaste, hitting her fist against the top of their car. She had been begging Kitra to stop selling herself on the streets for what seemed like years. But it was a horrid cycle. The more tricks that Kitra turned, the deeper embedded she became in the dangerous lifestyle. Not to mention her love of the perks that her 'pimp,' Evan, gave her as little treats. It was a bad habit, one that Grace had put behind her quickly. And every ounce of her feisty attitude flashed deeply within her bright emerald eyes at the request, causing Kitra to step back for a moment. "You know that I only helped you out before so Evan wouldn't skin your hide for not paying him back for the drugs--"
"Evan likes you so much, Racie! You're so damn cute and sweet. Tons of his clients want you. Hell, he wants you. He'd be so happy if you just put in a few hours. Please?"
"No, Kit.”
"Racie, please? You could make more in one hour than in a night here at Devil's--"
"That one lap dance at the end of the night was worth eight hundred dollars, Kit!" Grace exploded, leaning against the car as she rubbed her tired face. She hated having this fight with Kitra, but it seemed to happen every night. The deeper in trouble Kitra fell, the harder the pressure was for Grace to fix it. She may have been the younger one of the two at twenty one years of age, but she certainly was the parent. Kitra was haphazard and reckless, taking life as one big game. Compared to Grace fighting everyone and everything just to simply survive. This wasn't a game to her.
"Racie, just for tonight! We could roll in enough money to get food and rent for the next four months with no worries!" Kitra tried again, taking a step forward.
"We already have enough money for food and rent with our steady jobs... Unless you're doing something with that money that I keep putting back for us..."
"What? No, I told you I'm clean--"
"After how many times relapsing?"
"Racie..."
"Promise me, Kit."
"I promise, Racie. I haven't used any for drugs."
"Then we should have enough to last us. So we can go home, get some nice showers, and enjoy my leftover Domino's pizza," Grace decided, trusting Kitra's statement. The girls had been together for several years, both running away from different states to arrive in Florida with many hopes and dreams. Grace was a talented young woman with a great deal of smarts. Her singing voice was golden, her dancing was phenomenal, and she had the soul of a true poet. Kitra was lively and entertaining with a strong hand in writing and passion for business. But, the darkness of the city had enveloped them both, seeming to be a tradition as darkness always had a way of following Grace.
"Racie, you know it's not that simple for me just to leave my John's. Do you know what Evan will do to me?" Kitra shook her head, still not opening the car door.
"Unfortunately, I do..." Grace sighed, chewing on her bottom lip with regret. She didn't have to lecture Kitra about the dangers of prostitution and why she refused to participate. Far too many times, when they were leaving Devil's Playground the girls would see yet another useless woman being pulled from the garbage heap that her john had left her in. It terrified Grace when Kitra didn't return home for long stretches of time. She could recall far too many times that Kitra would come limping home in agony because it had been a slow night and Evan needed money to support his various habits. And now that Evan was fixing his eye on Grace, working the streets had been twice as hard on Kitra. Until he got what he wanted, he'd put Kitra through Hell.
"I've got really tough Johns tonight, Racie... Evan would be so much happier and I could get done so much quicker. We can take them to the same hotel room. We've done it before. Will you please just consider--"
"Kit, no," Grace whispered, rubbing her bare arms as the warm air seemed to dramatically cool against her sweet skin. "It's dangerous and sex really isn't my thing..."
"Could have fooled me," Kitra scoffed. "You were all up in arms over McLean's friend tonight."
"Eight hundred dollar score, Kitra," Grace growled with malcontent as Kitra began to lash at her like a spoiled child.
"Looked like you were more interested in him than the money," Kitra retorted with a roll of her blue-gray eyes that were heavily coated in dark make-up.
"Damnit, Kitra," Grace seethed with disbelief. "You know my history and you know my rules--"
"It's human nature to be attracted to the opposite sex and whatever you believe otherwise, you're a human. Just admit it; you were interested in McLean's friend."
"Any part of my heart that may have been attracted to McLean's friend died the day I learned what the words Daddy's Little Girl really meant," Grace hissed, clenching her fists.
Kitra stepped back once again, holding up her own hands in defense. "I'm just saying--"
"If he comes back, he's going to be a helluva big tipper. I was looking out for us, Kit. How many times can you say that?" Grace snapped, leaning against the car as she folded her hands curled underneath her perky breasts.
"That was low, Racie. Really low," Kitra whispered, narrowing her eyes at the younger woman.
"Look at where we are... How much lower could we possibly get?"
"Racie," Kitra exhaled bitterly, knowing the young girl's feistiness would probably be the death of them both. It seemed like yesterday when she had stumbled into a young teenage Grace, trembling with cold and hunger. She remembered the blood stains coating her worn jean jacket and jeans as she sobbed heavily. Kitra had done her best to clean up the young girl in hopes to quiet her, but the sobs continued throughout the night. It was hard to talk about still, because the emotions were still raw beneath Gracie's toughened skin. But that had been the last time that Kitra had ever seen Grace cry... "I'm going to ask you one more time to please go out with me and help me out."
"No, no way in Hell. I'm not helping you out with Evan and this shit again. I'm tired of it and I'm tired of having to worry about you every damn night. This is stupid, Kit--"
"Look, you strip to get money. I hook to get money. Either way, it's money and there's nothing we can do about it," Kitra ran a hand through her long locks. "You better get going home, I'll be back later, I guess."
"You'll be damn lucky if you make it home tonight," Grace chided as Kitra adjusted herself, moving to cross the street to her familiar meeting place with the various Johns. Disappearing into the darkness of the street, Grace released a fresh string of curses as she kicked her boot into the side of their car. She pressed her head against the coolness of the metal, squeezing her eyes shut. "I love her... I love her very much... I'd be fucked without her... She saved my ass... Lord, just keep her safe..."
After a moment of praying, Grace stood up and opened the driver side of the car, sliding inside. She rolled down the window before starting the ignition, country music playing softly from the old speakers.
It was unusual for a Floridian girl to have such a craving for country music, but Grace's roots stemmed from the country. She still remembered better times when she and her mother had lived far outside the tiniest rural city. There was nothing but beautiful mountains and farms surrounding their home that her mother promised would always be safe. She could play outside late into the evening without ever having to worry about some stranger harming her. She remembered her mother humming to the country tunes playing on the radio, so that's why Grace kept them close to her heart. Listening to country music gave her a link to her mother.
But those thoughts were short-lived as a sharp scream peeled across the sky, jerking Grace from her thoughts. Sharp chills raced down her spine as she recognized Kitra's desperate cries. Immediately, Grace yanked the keys from the ignition and stumbled out of the car. Cursing, she kicked her chunky heels off and started into a heavy sprint across the alleyway.
"Fuck me hard," Grace growled in disgust as she reached the back portions of the alley where a dingy mattress lay. Kitra was screaming painfully as she struggled beneath a chunky John apparently too cheap to pay for his good time. He repeatedly hit her in the face and the sharp echoes of palm to skin jerked her backward to the day her mother died. The memories were still fresh when she recalled that she was to blame for the murder, especially when she had done nothing to help. Grace screamed in disgust, imagining the man was her father as she barreled toward him with heavy blows of her fists. "You son of a bitch! Get the Hell off her!"
"What the fuck?!" the John grunted in surprise, attempting to push her off him. Kitra continued to struggle underneath his heavy weight, tears spilling down her cheeks as Grace came to her rescue yet again. "You get the Hell off me! Fucking bitch, mind your own business!"
"You don't rape women! This is my best friend, leave her the fuck alone--"
"She's a fucking whore! You can't rape what she gives up willingly!" the man snarled, slamming a hard fist into Grace's small gut.
Only, she had been hit far too many times to really care and retaliated by grabbing at the oily plugs of his hair. With a surge of power, she slammed the man against the brick wall so Kitra could scurry into the corner for protection. With sharp blows, Grace slammed her fists repeatedly into the man's face, her knuckles ripping as blood seemed to rain down from the excursion. Soft tears of anguish pricked at Grace's eyes as she kneed him hard in the crotch, her past mixing too quickly into the present.
“FUCKING BASTARD! HOW DOES THAT FEEL?! HOW DOES IT FEEL TO BE REDUCED TO NOTHING YOU FUCKING SNAKE?!"
"MY BALLS! YOU FUCKING... OH MY GOD! YOU BROKE MY FUCKING BALLS!" the man shouted in pain, curling into a ball on the dirty ground with his hands pressed on his groin.
"Can't break anything you don't have, you piece of shit!" Grace spat, kicking him in the side viciously.
Kitra watched in horror as Grace released a large bought of vengeance on the man, knowing that all the emotions she liked to tuck safely in her heart had finally given way. Every single time, Grace threatened that she would be there to save Kitra from another mistake. Yet, there she was like some kind of guardian angel. Time seemed to stand still as the man slumped into an unconscious slumber, Grace never bothering to slow the brutal beating she was giving. Swallowing her jittery nerves, Kitra pushed herself up to gently grasp at Grace's arms. She immediately fought the hold, but Kitra called softly to reorient the unsettled woman. "Racie, hey, it's me..."
"Are you okay?" Grace heaved, still staring down at the badly beaten man as Kitra stood behind her as if she were in a trance.
"Uh, yeah... he just... he tried to get out of paying and--"
"I saw what the result was."
"Yeah... Racie, you didn't kill him, did you?"
"I..." Grace turned from the body as Kitra furiously wrapped herself around the younger woman for protection. Grace was shocked at first, but gingerly eased her arms around Kitra, staring down at her badly cut knuckles from the man's teeth. Heavy blood stains tainted her tan hands, causing her to shudder with remembrance. "... We need to get out of here..."
"Okay," Kitra nodded after a moment, letting go. They turned and began to walk out of the alley, the air seeming ice cold to the shaken women. "Oh God... Evan is not going to like this..."
