Angel, Part 7 – Razor’s Edge

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Angry tears dried quickly on the long ride to the county jail. My wrists swelled as I squirmed in pain on the hard plastic seat of the sheriff’s car. Begging for him to loosen the cuffs, it was a cry that went unheeded, there was no way he was giving me slack. Laying on cold cement floors of the jail added now to my list of exciting experiences while with my angel; the excitement part of the lure for this lonely old man to pursue this young angel. They released me on my O.R., a term I had previously no knowledge of…my “own recognizance”. What was happening to me? I never acted like this. The rack and chains of jealousy are powerful catalysts to change a humble man into a creature of demonic rage. How close are love and hate? I fondled that razor edge, looking over into that dark chasm shadowed with the darkness of rage.

I managed to get back home, cold, miserable and confused. She was there, sleeping. A bottle of tequila lay empty on the floor, some pills scattered on the table. I woke her with a kiss. Evidently the owner’s decided against playing in this particular fire. Gently I pulled her blond hair to the side. Sleeping like this, I could still see some lingering touches of innocence. Her face, so gentle and pure again, like the angel I first met. She stirred, and seeing me, a reassuring smile spread from her face over her body, responding to me, reaching out and pulling me into bed. She felt so good, her body relaxed from the alcohol and pills, she pulled at my belt clumsily, I in a heated rush ripped the tired jeans from my body. 

We rolled around for hours in ecstasy. I fell asleep exhausted from the release of emotion and sex. She fell asleep, content that she still had the reigns, the prey had not left, he was just a little exhausted. The predators will chase and wait till you have lost your will before they pounce. She knew all she had to do was let me fight myself, she would clean up the mess after that. Fighting myself. Little did I know or understand that this whole game was of my making. I could have ended it at any time. Onward I went, my character eroding, my ambitions evaporating, and my soul, slowly withering under my assault.


Angel, Part 6 – The Flip Side –

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Driving her to the club once again, my eyes showed the strain of working all day and watching her all night. We parted with our usual exchange of kisses and hugs. I drove away, looking back at my Angel, her innocent looks were slowly changing, leaving traces of fear and emptiness. My Angel, I want to take you away from all this. Gathering myself, like I always did when I had to leave her, I drove away slowly. The day I drove away faster than I came to her would be the end. Halfway home, my phone vibrated to life…its Angel, “Baby, don’t come back, I’m staying here.” “What!” I screamed into the phone, “What’s wrong, what happened?”. “They told me you were screwing another dancer, that you would hurt me, and that I needed to stay with them”. Swerving off the road, pulling a two point turn that would make a stuntman jealous, I peeled out back to her, stones and dust chasing me.

 
I hit the gravel parking lot, cranked the wheel and slid sideways toward the entrance. Flinging my door open, I jumped out, the car was still rolling. I didn’t give it the least thought, my only concern, was finding out who was sabotaging my relationship. “Fucking jealous haters, always gotta try some shit to get what they want. This time they went to far, I’ve had it.” It’s a bad thing when I talk to myself like that. The bar was still closed, the girls getting ready in the back. Kicking the door open, completely breaking the lock, I began my incursion. A want-to-be bouncer put his hands on me, I looked at him with rage lighting up my eyes. He let go almost immediately, standing back with both hands up, saying “Calm down man!”. I wasn’t a small man, throwing around logs all day had toughened and thickened me to serious looking potential, and this perhaps kept him at a distance as well. I kept screaming, “Who is the mother fucker who is spreading this shit about me?”. I grabbed a stool, throwing it across the bar into the one of the many mirrors, mirrors reflecting now, a passion of a very different sort.
 

Breaking glass announced to the rest of the club that something is about to go very, very wrong. Leaving a path of destruction, I found the dressing room, threatening anyone and everyone, screaming for my accusers to show themselves. Dancers ran, screaming, scared. Another bouncer looked frantically under the bar, probably going for a gun, which apparently wasn’t there. I sent mirrors flying, the carefully arranged makeup, scattered like cockroaches in the light as I flipped over tables. Smashed lipstick resembling bloody smears littered the carpet, as  I continued my enraged foray. Confronting her I used all my control to not be rough with my angel. She boldly said, “it was the owner, Paul and his wife”. “Fucking players, they just want a threesome with you!”, I responded, knowing Paul’s intentions from the start. They had to remove me from the game, for the very reason that was now playing out, their worst nightmare, a jealous raging man, with nothing to lose. I stormed out of the dressing room, now a disaster area, and focused on finding Paul.


Going back toward the entrance, I saw him, puffed up and proud, yelling at me. I ran and grabbed him with both hands, lifting him off the ground, pinning him to wall by his neck. I drew back and was just about to punish him, when I started to calm down. If I hit him like this, I would crush his cheek bones, ruin his jaw, and screw his life up for a good amount of time. I let him down as my Angel grabbed me and pulled me to the bathroom. She had an evil grin, an excitement at all this done for her, over her. She loved it, every minute. When I heard the crackle of police radios, she smiled again “there here for you”. Yeah they were here for me. From now on, the police would come four men and two cars deep when they heard my name.

 

 

Angel, Part 4 – Her Stripper’s Initiation

We drove through the country, past dense forests of deep green and fields of tobacco, all pasted against the bluest sky I ever saw, a backdrop to the drama about to unfold. The club was lackluster, mud stains crawling up the faded white siding, weeds growing in sparse clumps in the dirt and gravel parking lot. The tires crunched through the gravel, announcing our presence to those waiting inside. We walked in, the dark welcoming us to the wantonness concealed from the day. She interviewed quick, verbally. I knew what they wanted to see for her qualifications. Posturing up like a good sentry, my eyes narrowed to slits, not smiling at anyone, being sure to let them know this was “my” angel, I was not coy about expressing my concern. I saw several girls milling around, asking for drinks from the pitiful few customers that were scattered like debris across the club. All typical things, the only thing not typical, was the look on my angels face, and her knight, faithfully by her side.  My imagination was wild, things ugly and uncontrollable fleshing out my limited understanding. Every violent movie, crime drama, news report, every violent and perverse concoction I ever heard and saw, all weighed heavily on me. My heart, now beating with sickening thuds, girded on by bursts of adrenaline, felt ready to explode. I knew something was about to happen. The dim interior, with its moon and stars of black lights and liquor neons, and mirrors reflecting their entrancing light, created a hypnotism that affected even me. Through a slight haze of smoke, I walked through the foreboding gauntlet to the edge of the stage. Sticky carpets, a memoir of drinks spilled night after night, created a smell that was oppressive on its own. My angels eyes were wide with excitement, her innocence was obvious to all there, exciting the few mangy patrons like the smell of blood excites the pack. Feeling them undress her with their eyes, hearing them lick their lips in anticipation, fidgeting in their chairs, ordering fresh drinks for the unveiling of the new talent, my mind and heart throbbed. The sound of blood rushed through my ears accompanying  music that boomed from the speakers, both mercifully loud enough to cover the conversations whispered from hedonistic men to the objects they desired. A couple dancers, with well rehearsed moves, their eyes vacant, staring off into space, went through their sets. They were all beautiful, except for blank stare in their eyes. Finally it was my angels turn, she looked so, cute, coming onto the stage, her moves very unpracticed and hesitant. Her eyes, like doe eyes, so innocent. She pranced childlike to the front of the stage, stopped, then swaying with the music, looked me directly in the eye and began her descent. Inside I heard a voice, urgent, and by the second, louder in its instance, STOP!!! I could scarcely restrain myself, the knight, caught between doing what she wanted and trying to wrestle a way out of this most helpless of circumstances, all of me under the sword of concern, all of her on the precipice of her dream. I held her look while she peeled off her shirt, my angel, her silken skin, her glorious curves, my skin, my curves. The shirt covered her eyes on its way off to oblivion, and when it fell from her hands, falling past her gentle eyes, I watched the purity leave her. It went from her like the sun falls from the sky, she growing darker on the sunset of her innocence. I sat stunned. My angel was no longer an angel, she was something that I had never seen before, her visage marred by an unseen hand. I felt my stomach ache, a deep, growing pit forming, nausea slapping me like a bully. I knew little of what was to become of the wildness that was birthed in her that night, little of what her desire for escape would drive her too, little of what it would do to my innocence, my soul.


Also published in: Broowaha

 

Angel, Part 3 – The Trap Is Sprung

The days turned to nights, endless nights of ruthless passion, uninhibited pleasure. The sun, many mornings, rising on our exhausted frames. She did take me to where my wife never would, the price for this journey, never spoken. Soon, the path away from my angel, was closed altogether. At first, little signs, which looking back were not so little. Indiscretions, as I called them, finding her with other men in compromising positions. Times when she disappeared, only to be found later, somewhat tossed in her appearance. Each time, her apologies and a healthy dose of gratuitous sex, sedated my opposition to the truth. One of those long days, working to bring her trinkets of my affection, I came home and saw her, lying down, seemingly asleep, in one hand, a stash of little blue pills. It was perfectly staged, this suicide attempt. SNAP! The trap was sprung. My angel cried, told me how unhappy she was, how she had only one dream that would make her happy. That dream was for her to be a dancer. No not just a dancer, an exotic dancer. A man in my position is helpless to do anything but take care of her now, to save her, or so I thought. What did she need in this pursuit but a man to push ahead of her as she whispered which path to take? I was wholly naïve concerning the whole culture and its surrounding pitfalls and malevolent characters. But, the white knight was born, the rescuer, the one who will guide this angel through the dark and dangerous night. Little did I know that this would begin a journey through a hell deeper and hotter than I have ever imagined. How easily I slipped through the safety net of common sense and self protection, into the hold of a hell bent soul. In her lustful grip, she would, in the end, take my soul.



Angel, Part 2 – A Night With Angel

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The rest of the night blurred by, like so many nights do, when you don’t have the courage to look for a tomorrow. I stumbled home and with her image caught in the narrow grooves of my mind, fell asleep, dreaming of angels. Opening my eyes in drunken squints, “Can someone turn off that damn light?” I laughed, of course not, it was the sun greeting me to a new day. I showered off the smell, but the after effects of the night hung on until afternoon. By then, my mind was way ahead of the day, thinking that tonight I will run into my angel again. She left enough of me wanting her again, to keep my attention. The wolf will let you walk as far away from your den as she can, before she let’s you see her. Wandering after this vision, the evening soon came and I found myself in my usual position at the watering trough of the dive. I stood at the door to look at what the evening would bring in on its air, and, to see my angel, if by chance she would be there. Just as I about gave up and walked in after some other enticement, I heard my name. Now no one calls me by my name, hell, no one knows me, and for that matter no one cared too. It was no surprise this startled me, that, there she was, a big smile on her face, hugging me like I was the last person on earth. How is it that she can like me? How can she even remember me? A thousand questions come at me, I knew I had nothing left to offer anyone at this point in my life. I left those questions alone, like my instinct and self preservation, left alone, defenseless of my own accord. The time quickly passed as slow dance after tempting slow dance, fast dance after erotic, down to the floor, fast dance, rolled through the night. Oh yes, time passed quickly, as she swallowed me into her world. She took me by the hand, “It’s gonna be OK, let me introduce you to what your wife never would. Come follow me.” So I did, seduced not only by pleasure, but by the fact that this young woman would be so taken by me that she would pursue me. The prey should not be so enthralled with this attention, but then again, what prey knows they are just that, until, it is too late.

Also published in: Broowaha

Angel, Part 2 – A Night With Angel

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The rest of the night blurred by, like so many nights do, when you don’t have the courage to look for a tomorrow. I stumbled home and with her image caught in the narrow grooves of my mind, fell asleep, dreaming of angels. Opening my eyes in drunken squints, “Can someone turn off that damn light?” I laughed, of course not, it was the sun greeting me to a new day. I showered off the smell, but the after effects of the night hung on until afternoon. By then, my mind was way ahead of the day, thinking that tonight I will run into my angel again. She left enough of me wanting her again, to keep my attention. The wolf will let you walk as far away from your den as she can, before she let’s you see her. Wandering after this vision, the evening soon came and I found myself in my usual position at the watering trough of the dive. I stood at the door to look at what the evening would bring in on its air, and, to see my angel, if by chance she would be there. Just as I about gave up and walked in after some other enticement, I heard my name. Now no one calls me by my name, hell, no one knows me, and for that matter no one cared too. It was no surprise this startled me, that, there she was, a big smile on her face, hugging me like I was the last person on earth. How is it that she can like me? How can she even remember me? A thousand questions come at me, I knew I had nothing left to offer anyone at this point in my life. I left those questions alone, like my instinct and self preservation, left alone, defenseless of my own accord. The time quickly passed as slow dance after tempting slow dance, fast dance after erotic, down to the floor, fast dance, rolled through the night. Oh yes, time passed quickly, as she swallowed me into her world. She took me by the hand, “It’s gonna be OK, let me introduce you to what your wife never would. Come follow me.” So I did, seduced not only by pleasure, but by the fact that this young woman would be so taken by me that she would pursue me. The prey should not be so enthralled with this attention, but then again, what prey knows they are just that, until, it is too late.

Also published in: Broowaha