Chapter One
The club was loud, crowded, and intense. Colored lights flashed in every direction as bodies pulsated against each other on the dance floor to a demanding bass line. But tonight wasn’t about enjoyment for the tall black man standing in the darkened corner. This was nothing but business. His black leather jacket hung down past the back pockets on his dark, baggy jeans and his tight white t-shirt stretched mercilessly across his pectoral muscles. It was hard to miss the glare that the lights flashing off his diamond studded rings and chain caused. A beeper was tucked into his front jeans pocket and a cell phone was attached to one of his belt loops. A .45 millimeter lay in one of the hidden pockets inside his jacket, resting safely against his chest. It was easy to get a weapon past the bouncer at the front door when it was common knowledge that you kept this club running with your business.
A short and stocky white man approached the shadowy corner of the room. There was nothing uncommon about him, which was exactly how Tyrell Edmonds liked his dealers to be. The less conspicuous they appeared, the less likely they were to be picked up by the cops. The LAPD were not some of Tyrell’s closest friends.
"I know you got my money," Tyrell stated in his deep, resonating voice. He prided himself in that it sounded somewhat like a pit bull’s growl.
"Of course I do, T," the white man replied nervously, pulling a plain white envelope out of his brown leather jacket.
"All of it?"
"Well, uhh, here’s the thing," he faltered, his voice stopping completely as Tyrell cracked his knuckles.
"I gave you two extra weeks. I’ve tried to be nice about this. I don’t appreciate getting played, my man."
"Tyrell, please man, all I need is a few more days. I promise you. I’ll have it."
"I’m tired of your promises." With only a glance to his left, three more men; one black and two Hispanic; appeared at Tyrell’s side. "Matthew here needs to be taught a lesson, gentlemen. A serious lesson. Take him out back. I don’t ever want to see him again."
Matthew didn’t protest. He walked away with the three men, knowing his fate. His mother had been right. He never should have gotten himself involved with Tyrell Edmonds.
~*~
Alexa Miller rolled over onto her side as she felt the bed she was lying on dip under the weight of someone else’s body. She opened one of her bruised hazel eyes and glanced at the alarm clock on the ebony nightstand. 2:15 A.M. Saying nothing, she closed it again. It took all she had not to flinch as she felt his arm slip around her waist.
"Daddy’s home, babygirl."
She swallowed hard and pretended to be asleep. The grip on her waist grew tighter. Not tonight. Please, not again.
"Come on, Lex. Wake up, boo."
Soft kisses were placed on the back of her neck. So deceiving. And all the same, impossibly inviting. Why did he always do this to her? A large hand slipped under her short nightgown and parted her thighs, finding her center. She wasn’t wet yet but that never mattered to him.
"Don’t you wanna make daddy happy?"
His voice wasn’t gently teasing anymore. She knew if she didn’t give in soon, he would simply take what it was that he wanted. And her body ached too much to go through that again. Three times in one week was too much to handle. Having no other choice, she rolled onto her back and opened her eyes. Her arms snaked around his neck and she pulled him down on top of her.
"That’s my girl," he growled into her ear as his fingers continued their assault on her center. Nature was beginning to take over and her juices made it easier for him to slip a third finger inside. It wasn’t painful really. But it had stopped being pleasurable long ago. Just as Alexa was starting to enjoy herself, his fingers were gone. They were quickly replaced by something much bigger. She bit down on her lip not wanting to cry despite the pain. She knew that would only upset him.
Things hadn’t always been like this. And they weren’t always like this now. It had just been an exceptionally bad week. She had come home late from her job waitressing on Monday and that had set him off. Then she had made the mistake of asking him where he had been when he didn’t come home at all on Wednesday. And today, well, she wasn’t sure. Tyrell had just been mad at the world today. And since he couldn’t take it out on the world, he had taken it out on her.
Alexa was ripped back into the present as Tyrell took a handful of her hair and pulled it forcefully. She had almost succeeded in numbing herself from the violent thrusting going on between her legs.
"I want you to cum for me, you little whore!"
She didn’t take offense to the words anymore. He liked to talk dirty to her. And she had liked it in the beginning. Until he had added violence into their sex life. There was enough violence outside of the bedroom. She didn’t need it inside as well. But, on command, she clenched her muscles around him, arched her back and screamed his name. She even threw in some heavy breathing for good measure. Alexa had become an expert at faking her orgasms. Tyrell didn’t even notice anymore.
"That’s right, you fucking slut," he growled as he thrust into her one last time before releasing himself inside her. He collapsed on top of her, not caring that he weighed twice as much as she did and that he was all but cutting off her air supply. "You’re such a good baby," he whispered, kissing her neck.
Alexa didn’t respond quickly enough for his liking. Tyrell snapped.
"What’s wrong, bitch?" he shouted, sitting up in the bed. "You didn’t like it?"
Her eyes slammed shut. "No, baby," she tried to purr. "You were amazing. I’m just tired, lover."
"Tired?" he seethed, grabbing her by her curly locks and pulling her up next to him. "Why you tired? You going elsewhere to get yourself tired?"
She flinched as a searing pain shot through her head. "Tyrell, of course not. You know I love you, boo. I got no reason to go elsewhere."
He didn’t seem convinced. The back of his hand collided with her already bruised cheek and he pushed her out of the bed. Alexa landed on the hard wood floor with a thud. Despite her best efforts, she began to sob softly.
"Stop you’re crying, stupid bitch. Get the hell out this room. You’re lucky I don’t give your ass what you really deserve!"
Too weak to argue and knowing she had to be to work in under six hours, she crawled on her knees out of the door. Once in the living room, she couldn’t even bring herself to climb onto the leather couch. She just collapsed in the middle of the floor and cried herself to sleep. She silently wished that she’d never gotten herself involved with Tyrell Edmonds.
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