Fallen Angel: A Mafia Romance - Part 1 (Roman Crime Family) (3 page)

“Hello?”

A deep, hauntingly familiar voice. “You busy, kid?”

She couldn’t help but grin at hearing his voice. He almost made her feel like the kid he called her.

“Not particularly, just getting ready to head to the club. What’s up?”

“Nothing. You coming back tomorrow night?”

“Why do you want to know? You gonna miss me if I don’t?” She could not believe she was actually flirting with him.

“I always miss my girl when she’s not there.”

“Who says I’m your girl?”

“Me, that’s who the fuck who.”

“Well, um. Ok. Yes, to answer your original question, I’m planning on coming back to work tomorrow night. That is if I don’t get the gig at MTV.”

“You’ll come back even if you do.” He sounded so matter of fact.

“You think so, huh?”

“I know so. I’m there.”

“And it’s all about you, right?”

“Isn’t it always?” She knew it was true, but refused to let him know he was right.

There was a knock on her bedroom door, opening it she let Allison in.

“I hate to break up our intellectual conversation, but Allie is here to take me to the club.”

“Circle Eight, right?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Maybe I’ll see you there.”

“Great. You can meet Eric then.” Jess laughed nervously.

There was a pause. “Sounds like fun.” 

“Right. Bye Mr. Roman.”

“Kid?”

“Yeah.”

“Just so you know, I’m going to be your guy. And for the last fucking time, call me Nick.”

This time she was struck silent, having nothing to say.

She cleared her throat. “I really need to go, Nick.” Just as she was about to hang up the phone, she heard him once more.

“Kid?”

“Yes, Nick?”

“What color underwear will you be wearing?”

“I don’t wear underwear, Mr. Roman.”

She heard him smother a groan and hung up, before she lost her small victory.

Eric was already on stage at Circle Eight when they walked through the door. She felt a rush of heat between her legs as she looked at him. She was going to fuck him tonight. Partly because he was walking sex on that stage. It always her turned her on.

Partly because she felt guilty for flirting with Nick Roman.

Not to mention fantasizing
about
Nick Roman.

Considering she got herself off just thinking about the man, she figured she owed Eric
something
.

She grinned to herself. The whole thing was so deliciously naughty she still was tingling.

Jess and Allison waved to Eric as they made a beeline to the bathroom. Once inside, she checked her hair, glad she wore it down, casually flung over her shoulders.

It looked good with the tight red dress, painting her body. She turned around. Her ass was lethal in this dress. It barely covered it, just the way she wanted.

“Want a line?” Allison shoved the bag over to her.

“Hell, yeah. Thanks.”

Jess bent, sniffing six lines off the sink. Feeling like she could suddenly run ten miles.

“So, Allie. What’s the deal with Nick?”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s that mobster I’ve heard about, right?”

Allison looked around the bathroom nervously.

“Jess, please don’t ask or talk about his business, ok? Yes, he’s who you think he is, but that is all you
ever
need to know. If you keep digging for answers, eventually you’ll find them. He’s trouble, so please don’t get caught up. Please? It’s for your own good.”

She looked at Allison and acknowledged she understood, without saying a word.

“Thank you for trusting me. Besides, you have the hottest fucking guy in New York as your bitch. Why are you even worried about Nick?”

“Good question.” Jess laughed, dabbing her lips.

Good fucking question.

They left the bathroom, finding their way to the bar. Eric finished his set and was talking to a crowd of groupies. Several of them practically humping him right in the bar. She hated every last one of them. Fantasized about killing them. Often.

She understood they came with the territory. He wasn’t the first rock guy she dated. Hell, she dated actual famous rockers before him.

She knew the game quite well.

No fucking groupies in your home state. What happened on the road, stayed on the road.

Yeah, she got it, alright. Didn’t mean she had to like it.

“Want a drink?”

“I’d like two Long Islands, please Tony.” Jess answered, turning to the bartender. 

“On the bands tab, Jess?” Tony asked.

“Of course.” She smiled at him and winked.

Tony handed them their drinks. She slammed one back, staring at the girls all over Eric. Amy had joined them. Even from where she was sitting, Jess could see her hands all over Eric’s back.

She really couldn’t stand that bitch.

“That dress outlines your bottom nicely.”

Jess didn’t turn around. She’d recognize that voice anywhere.

“I’m surprised you came.”

“And miss the chance to observe your ass with no panty lines?”

Nick walked up, standing behind her so that her back leaned into his chest.

“And just so you know, I came several times before I got here, sweetness. Every time I imagined what your lips would feel like around my cock.” He gave her a hooded glance as she felt his semi-erect hardness jut against her back.

“Besides. I had to size up my competition.”

He took a sip of his whiskey, staring at Eric with a look she was very uncomfortable with.

“Umm…you have no competition, Nick.” She hoped he would stop before things got out of hand.

Nick chuckled.

“I’m glad you see things my way.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“What I know is you apparently have bigger things to worry about.” He gestured to Eric and Amy, who had her arms tightly wound around Eric neck. Whose hands rested comfortably on her ass.

“Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but that’s
your
man, right? Because it looks like he’s wearing someone else’s brand right now.”

Jess’s gaze narrowed. She’d seen enough, even more pissed Nick witnessed it. Slamming her empty glass down, she stormed up to them both. She heard Nick, somewhere in the background calling her but ignored him.

When she reached them, she pushed Amy out of the way, wrapping her arms around Eric. He bent to kiss her, not even noticing her scowl.

“Hey, baby. This is Amy. Amy, this is my girlfriend Jess.”

“We know each other, Eric.” Jess frowned.

“Oh that’s right, Amy works at Takers too. Small world, eh?” Eric laughed, totally oblivious to the tension between the two women. Jesus, he could be a fucking moron when he was drunk. Not to mention high.

Always a winning combination.

“How’s it going, Jess?” Amy’s smile was syrupy sweet, celebratory. And as fake as her silicone breasts. Jess resisted the urge to knife her right in the fucking throat.

Nick walked up, putting his arms around Amy. Jess found herself growing angrier at the sight of the two of them.

What the hell was this? Why was she feeling more jealous of Nick and Amy, than her own man?

“Ready to go Amy? My dick is hard and needs your assistance.”

Amy giggled. “Sure thing, Daddy.”

Jess looked from Amy to Nick.

Did this bitch just call him Daddy?

Daddy
? Really?

Nick glanced at Jess briefly, acting as if Eric didn’t exist. Eric was too high to even notice the slight. “I’ll leave you to your…boyfriend.” He chuckled at her murderous expression.

“See ya, kid.”

Jess stared at the two of them, frowning as they walked away.

Nick noticed her reaction and smirked, pleased with himself. He’d watered the little seed he planted.

Now it was time to watch it grow.

“You’ve been quiet,
mami
. What the fuck’s the matter with you?” Eric stumbled through the apartment door, holding onto Jess for support.

“How do you know Amy? And could you please explain why the fuck you had your hands on her ass?”

“Baby, not tonight, please? It’s all part of the game. You know that. I don’t even know that tramp, other than when we went to Takers. She grinded on my dick for an hour. Now she comes to the all the shows. No biggie.” He said it just like that, too.

Like he honestly didn’t think it was a big deal. Jess, on the other hand watched her vision get hazy...and red.

“An hour? So, you basically fucked her?” Her voice was quiet. Too quiet.

“No more than you fuck every single guy that walks into that club each night. I fucking deal with it. So can you.”

“Really, Eric? You’ve dealt with it one night.
One
. I’ve put up with your groupie whore shit for six months.
Six
, Eric. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to bed. I’m tired. Tired and done.”

She attempted to push past him. He grabbed her, shoving her up against the wall.

“What did you just say?”

Jess swallowed. Her pulse began to beat erratically against her throat.

“I-I said I was tired and-”

He backhanded her across her face. Hard. She muffled a scream as pain coursed through her body.

“Say it again, bitch.”

She gave a bitter laugh, watching his face change right before her eyes. She knew that look well. She should. She’d dealt with it for as long as she could remember. Realizing at that moment who he reminded her of.

Her father.

Why hadn’t she seen this before? It all made so much sense.

“It takes a bitch to know one, Eric. And get your fucking hands off of me.
Now
.”

He hit her again, pressing his hands against her throat hard enough to cut off her air supply.

“Learn your place,
mami
. It’s on my arm. As my little stripper Barbie. You knew the rules of this relationship. You agreed to them the day you decided to fuck me. Don’t make me hurt you again, baby.”

He wiped the tears rolling down her cheek, licking the saltiness off with his tongue. “You know it hurts me to do this.”

She stood stunned, as he eventually removed his hands. She immediately started coughing. Trying to get as much air in her lungs as possible.

What the hell just happened?

Did this fucker just put his hands on her? 

She slid down the wall, sitting on the floor dumbfounded. He bent to her, raising her head, kissing her on her lips.

“Come to bed,
mami
. You have to get up in three hours for your audition.”

He’s speaking to you. Say something before he hits you again.

“I’ll be there in a few minutes Eric. I have to wash my face.”

“Hurry up, love. I want that sweet pussy of yours fucked raw before I go to bed.”

She headed to the bathroom, not answering.

“Jess?”

“What, Eric?”

“Don’t take too long.”

He smiled at her. A slight warning in his tone.

She turned on the light, looking in the mirror. He left a hand print on her face. You could see where he choked her. She would bruise for sure.

Her nose started bleeding, too. She grabbed some tissue, dabbing her nose robotically. All her gestures familiar.

She was experiencing déjà vu.

It was ok. No new territory, at least.

She knew what to do.

She removed her dress. Washed her face. Did a couple of lines to calm her nerves.

Looking back in the mirror, her bruised, battered reflection staring back at her impassively. Judging her, yet again.

She turned off the light, walking naked toward the bed.

Showtime
.