Okay so before you read this...Here is a few things you need to know bout this story: 1) its violent 2) some language 3) some sensual content 4) litttle bit of drug content (not much though)

She was in trouble. I knew it. Why else would she have called me at 12:30, in the middle of her night shift? If she had been caught calling me by her 'boss', Rick her punishment would be. . . I didn't want to think about it. If only I had picked up my phone, but I had been sleeping. I had only listened to her brief voicemail. And that was only twenty minutes ago at 2 A.M. She had sounded frantic,

"I need you to meet me at Kitty's in thirty minutes. . . Hurry."

Kitty's was where she 'worked' at. I was only a block away from Kitty's when my car passed an alleyway, a shortcut. I park my car on the side of the street. A thought came to me: Why didn't I call her back? Maybe she wasn't in trouble after all. Or maybe. . .

I walk down the alleyway. Its dark, the only source of light is the full moon. It reeks of garbage and shit down here. I am close to the back door of Kitty's when I hear a moan. The moan cuts the silence like a knife. I whirl around and I see a figure in the darkness, next to a garbage can. The figure is slumped against the moist wall of Kitty's. But it's not just any figure it's . . . oh god. . .

"Vanessa," Suddenly all the air gets sucked out of my lungs.

I immediately rush to Vanessa's side. Bile appears in my mouth as my eyes drink in the sight of her battered body. Her bright blonde hair is matted with crimson blood. Her mouth is half opened; a front tooth has been chipped off. There's a tiny trickle of blood flowing out of her mouth. Her lip is swollen. Her jaw is purple, so is her right eye. My eyes travel to her neck. On it, I see bright red marks that might have been caused by fingers. The outfit she's wearing, it's a bright red tube top with sequins and a matching miniskirt. It's torn. On her chest, arms, and legs I see more bruises. Her body is broken. Who could have done this? Only a complete monster could. Shock evaporates and is replaced by rage that fills every crevice in my soul. I'll find the son of a bitch that did this to her. I'll kill him with my bare hands. But first I have to make sure Vanessa is alive. I place my palm on her bruised cheek. Her entire body trembles at my touch. I have to swallow so that I can say,

"Vanessa. . . Wake up."

I pat her face gently as I could. Her eyelids quiver then open. Her green eyes, once bright, are now filled with fear and pain. When she recognizes me, her eyes tear up. And Vanessa is not the type to sob over the saddest of tragedies.


Her voice is hoarse. I can see that it is taking everything she's got to not to go unconscious. I nod.

"It's me Nessie," I say.

"I . . . hurt . . . ," She moans, a tear trails down her cheek.

I grab her and place her body in my arms; I'm cradling her like a small child. But I need her to tell me what happened. Or more like, who did this to her.

"Who did this?" I ask.

Vanessa shakes her head, she is terrified. I take off my jacket and wrap it around her shoulders.

"No . . . "Vanessa moans over and over.

"Please Nessie, you have to tell me," I shouldn't be urging her to talk but I have to know who this sick bastard is.

". . . Ian. . . "She finally whispers.

God damn it. Of course it was Ian. Vanessa had told me about his disturbing interest in her. I pull Vanessa closer to my chest as she completely breaks down. I warned her over and over about working at Kitty's. I told her not to. I warned her about how girls go in and not a lot of them come back out.

"I'm going to get you some help," I say as I stand up, carrying Vanessa in my arms. "I'll kill him." I promise Vanessa. But first I have to get Vanessa to the hospital. If she dies I'll. . . I don't know.

Author's Note:

If you think this should be rated M, please tell me... Also, chapters will be updated almost every few days..


-Norah Strike