I nursed a bottle of vodka as I sat on the edge of the balustrade, my legs dangling in the air while I looked down at the city lights.
It was beautiful. The night, the lights, the strip.
I was in the city of excess, debauchery, and sin. The suite was filled with strangers whose names and faces I couldn't pin point. But they were beautiful, as most people were in the city of sin. At least physically.
I didn't know where Andrea found them. Or maybe they found us. I didn't care either way because all I could think about was if I jumped now, how long would it take for any of them to notice my broken corpse?
I hoped I didn't land on the pool. That would be such an epic fail.
I giggled, leaning forward and looking down at the pool. It would probably sting like a bitch to land on that all the way from where I was.
I took a large swig from the bottle of vodka, coughing up when it backfired. I should have taken whiskey.
"Excuse me?"
"You're excused," I muttered before lighting up a cigarette.
Much to my annoyance, the prick pranced towards me.
"It's not safe to sit there, you know?"
"That's the point."
He chuckled and I scowled, turning to look at him. In my inebriated brain, I could easily make out his pretty face. He flashed me a grin that could have probably had any other girl eating at the palm of his hand. I wasn't any other girl though.
"Lawrence Hurt," he said, holding out a hand between us.
I arched a brow, glancing at his hand. "Jackie Howard."
He laughed, shaking his head. "Using your mother's name? That's very naughty of you, Angel Lastor."
I narrowed my eyes at him. I didn't fancy smartass fancy pants. This one fit the bill.
"The fuck do you want, Lawrence Hurt?" I spat before taking a swig from my bottle.
He shrugged. "Well, a good time, for one. That's what everyone wants when they come to Vegas, isn't it?"
I rolled my eyes and brought my gaze back to the daunting view of the city. Las Vegas. Sin City. Probably the most fitted place for someone like me to wreak havoc in for my own sick entertainment but truly, this city has lost its appeal to me.
I hated this city more than I hated New York.
I've done every possible shit one could do in this place before I even hit the legal age. The only thing I haven't done was get banned from stepping foot in it. I should probably get around to doing that soon.
"People come to this horrid place to escape reality and indulge in their misguided fantasies of grandeur," I mumbled, embracing the vodka bottle to my chest. "A good time, as you say, is a concept that isn't applicable to Las Vegas. Sin City offers anything and everything but good things. Tourists are blinded with the idea of living off their fantasies that they fail to see what this city really is."
"What is it then?"
I shook my head, taking a long swig from my bottle before offering it to him.
"It's one massive shithole that you can't get out of because you're afraid of living in reality where not everything can be casted away with a line of cocaine," I said, chuckling inwardly at the fact that I was quoting Rick of all people.
"That's very cynical of you," he noted with a short laugh. "I take it you're not having fun then?"
I scoffed. "What's so fun about escaping? About running away? About being alone?"
"Ah, but you're not alone though. There's approximately a hundred people in your suite who are running away from their own realities," he said before taking a swig of vodka.
I smiled. "Exactly. A hundred people and yet I'm still empty."
He frowned. "Empty?"
I nodded. "I can't feel anything."
I dug my nails into my palms and yet nothing.
"Why is that?"
I chuckled. "Because I'm empty."
"Why do you feel empty?"
"I don't feel empty. I am empty." I sighed. "I wonder if you feel something when you die. Would I feel the impact of my fall once my body lands on the asphalt? Or would it be an instant death? Would it be worth it to die just so I can feel something? I want to know. I want to know so fucking much."
"There are some things in life not worth knowing," he said, his voice grim.
"But it would be very liberating to know what it's like to be somewhere with no more pain and suffering." I sighed, tilting my head back and looking up at the dark night sky. "This world..." I closed my eyes, feeling the warm desert breeze against my skin. "It's filled with so much pain. It doesn't end. The pain just varies. Sometimes it's bearable, often times it's not. Everyone is suffering in their own way. In their own realities. We often hide it. Run away from it. Ignore it. But it doesn't make anything go away. It will never go away as long as we live. I wish there was a way to end it. Maybe then my reality would be worth living for."
"We should get inside."
I smiled, lifting my lids half way and turning my head to look at him.
"Why? You scared of what I'll do? Or of what you might witness?" I taunted, swinging my legs as I rocked back and forth.
He started forward, his hands reaching out as if to hold me. I giggled at the look on his face. He looked like he was pissing himself.
"You're going to fall," he bit out sharply.
"So? What's so wrong about that?" I mumbled, tilting my head.
"You'll die. That's what."
I chuckled, grinning at him. "Ah, but death isn't such a bad thing. I don't know why people fear the thought of dying. It's a gift. I won't have to keep suffering anymore. I would just be... dead. Nothing. Rotting six feet under the ground. Well-" I paused, giggling. "- unless my family decides to cremate me then I would be everywhere. Will you tell them to scatter my ashes somewhere I can hear the water?"
His jaw clenched tightly as he moved closer to me. "You're high, aren't you?"
I chuckled again. "I'm high enough that I'm sure my death would be instant once I land on the asphalt."
"That's not funny."
"I wasn't trying to amuse you."
"Just get off, Miss Lastor."
"Not till you tell me who sent you."
He froze, his eyes darting towards the door.
"If you're looking for a way out, I'm afraid the front door under lock and chain, and only me and my best friend have the keys." I smiled. "No one gets out unless we declare that the party is over. It's kind of our thing. So you should start talking before I get bored."
I shifted, laying on my stomach and cupping my jaw with one hand as I looked at him.
I already noticed him the moment he came in. He was surveying the place with far too much intent and has been carrying a glass all night but had barely touched it. He looked far too clean and far too sober to have been here for a 'good time'. And out of all the people here, he was the only one who hadn't tried to fuck me.
He's also been following me around since Andrea and I checked into the hotel. It wasn't so hard to notice the only single guy in Vegas who preferred his solitude than a group of bikini clad babes. And I'd often catch him sneaking glances at me. Not the checking out glances. The sneaky ones that you just know the person is watching you.
"Mr. Jenkins assigned me to tail you and report your movements back to him," he said, his voice altering from charming to mechanical.
"Under whose orders?"
"I'm afraid that's information you have no clearance to, Miss Lastor."
I rolled my eyes. "That just means it was my brother."
I yawned, sitting up and straddling the balustrade.
"Come here. I wanna tell you something," I whispered, reaching out and yanking him towards me by the collar. "You're getting sloppy."
I brushed my lips against cheek, feeling him stiffen when I blew a soft breath against his collar where a mic was tucked and hidden.
"Honestly, Ben, how many times do I have to tell you not to even think about following me? You really expect me to be so blind?" I scoffed. "Although I must commend you, it took me a while to notice it. You're lucky I've been distracted."
Lawrence tried to pull away but I dug my nails into the skin of his neck.
"This little pet of yours," I mumbled, tilting my head and leveling my eyes with his. "He's quite good-looking, isn't he? Would you mind if I played with him for a bit? I'm quite bored."
I smirked when his eyes widened. I forced my lips on his, gripping fistfuls of his hair when he tried to pull away and forcing my tongue into his mouth. He groaned when I shoved my hand down his pants.
I held his cock in a vice grip, stroking him in a pace that matched the harsh kiss I was giving him. When I felt him stiffen, indicating he was close to exploding into my hand, I smiled, biting his lower lip and tearing his flesh before drawing back, licking my lips and swallowing down the taste of his blood. The shock in his eyes was precious.
"You have exactly five seconds to get the fuck out of my sight, Lawrence Hurt. After that– " I paused, letting go of my hold on him. "–I won't be held responsible of what I will do to you." I grinned. "One…"
He caught himself and pressed a finger to his ear, listening to his earpiece.
I took a swig from my bottle.
"Two..."
"Mr. Jenkins wants to speak with you."
"Three…"
"He wants me to stay with you until you-"
I sighed. "Four..."
"He says your-"
I rolled my eyes. "Five."
I swung the bottle and smashed it against the side of his head hard enough for it to shatter into pieces. His head whipped to the side and I took advantage of his momentarily defenseless state, hitting him with the broken bottle again before tackling him to the ground. I grinned as blood oozed from the wound, pooling around him on the floor.
"Wanna play, sweetheart?" I hissed before digging what remained of the bottle into his shoulder. He cried out in agony. "I must warn you though. I don't play easy games."
I dug it deeper until I hit the clavicle. He tried to get me off him but it only made the broken tips of the bottle slip closer towards his neck, my fingers digging into the open wound.
"But since you're new to my game, I'll show you mercy."
I twisted the bottle and he let out a strangled growl. I pulled out his earpiece and yanked off the mic from inside his collar before getting off him. I slipped the earpiece on.
"Strike one, Ben," I spoke into the mic as I stared at Lawrence Hurt's bleeding state. "You have two more lives. Strike again and I'll do more than just scratch your little pets. Understood?"
"Understood, Miss Lastor," he answered mechanically.
"Tell my brother I said hi, yeah?"
I pulled out the earpiece and tossed them at Lawrence's feet.
"You can leave but if I ever, ever, see you again, trust me, I'll tear you apart inside out."
I walked back inside the suite where our high and drunken guests seemed to be unaware of the world around them besides their own. I went to the door, taking out the key to the padlock and unraveling the chain around the door handle before heading into my room.
I took a long cold shower to ease the adrenaline pumping through my veins and just stood under the harsh water while I stared at the trail of blood on the tiled floor. There was so much of it. He might attract too much attention. Or maybe he passed out and died. I couldn't bring myself to care anymore.
When I got out of the shower, I found three people fucking in my bed. They asked me to join them but I declined and dressed myself in another skimpy little black dress.
The party was still in full swing when I got out of the room. Some drunken fool was doing a keg stand while bare ass naked and an orgy had broken out in the kitchen.
I wanted to set the whole place on fire and see how long till they'd notice it. They might not until it was too late and their only choice was to either jump off the balcony or keep fucking until they were burned to crisp. However tempting it might be to witness such a spectacle, I was too tired to do bring chaos to their pitiful little lives.
I searched for my best friend in the sea of perfectly tanned naked bodies but didn't catch sight of her. I went to her room instead and there she was, riding her new boy toy like a veteran cow girl.
"I'm bored."
Andrea's head whipped to the side almost in shock, her lusty eyes swiveling towards me.
"What the hell, Gel?"
"I'm bored," I repeated.
She rolled her eyes. "We're in Vegas, babe. How could you be bored?"
"Let's do something."
"I'm kinda in the middle of doing someone right now," she bit out, grinding her hips in a circular motion before slamming down.
I folded my arms across my chest and sat by the foot of the bed, kicking the carpet with my boot.
"I'll just wait for you to finish then."
"You wanna do something?" She grunted. "Get naked and join us."
I titled my head, sparing the grunting man underneath her a glance. His name was Orlando, a professional footballer who played for Real Madrid and was supposedly here for his bachelor party. He's been following her around since we met him at the pool yesterday and he resembled a perfectly sculptured masterpiece hand crafted by the Greek Gods. The perfect tan was an added bonus. Along with his alluring accent as he cursed in Spanish.
I would have fucked him if I didn't feel like shit.
"I don't want to," I muttered, slapping his hand away when he tried to touch me.
Andrea shifted, gripping the headboard and bouncing on Orlando's cock with reckless abandon.
"What do you want then?"
I shrugged and said the first thing that popped inside my head.
"Cabo."
She paused mid-bounce and Orlando groaned in protest. She slapped him.
"Callate!" She turned to look at me, quirking a brow. "Mexico?"
I shrugged again. "The jet is on standby at the tarmac right now."
She eyed me for a moment, her brows furrowed. "Are you not telling me something here?"
I frowned. "What does that mean?"
She sighed and hoisted herself off her extremely annoyed fuck toy.
"You disappeared for nearly two weeks and then called me up saying you want to come here. Even though I know for a fact you hate this place. And when we did get here, all you've done is sulk and get drunk at some corner!" She sat back, folding her arms over her chest. "You're being weirder than usual, babe. What's up with you?"
I tried to hold back my inherent annoyance at being questioned.
"Do you want to go or not? I can go by myself," I snapped.
She sighed again. "I'll go. After I get to come. 'Kay?"
I rolled my eyes. "Fine. Make it fast."
I walked out of the room and headed for the bar, taking out my phone and calling the pilot as I searched for something to drink but it seemed these vultures had more than taken advantage of our hospitality.
"Miss Lastor," a groggy voice answered my call after the fourth ring.
"Captain Anderson." I found a half empty bottle of champagne and poured myself a cup. "Can you get the jet ready for me in-" I paused, downing my drink. "-thirty minutes?"
"Of course, Miss Lastor. Where are you planning on travelling?"
I lit up a cigarette before answering. "Cabo."
"I'll arrange the flight plan."
"Thanks, babe."
"Any time, Miss Lastor. Would that be all?"
"Actually, one more thing." I took a drag from my cigarette, letting it out through my nostrils. "You didn't notify anyone, did you?"
He cleared his throat and I gritted my teeth.
"No, Miss Lastor."
"You hesitated," I pointed out. "Who did you tell?"
I could almost hear him swallow. "Your bro-"
"I do remember explicitly ordering you not to tell him or did I just imagine that?"
"I didn't tell him!" he defended immediately. "He contacted me to ask if you used the jet. I said you haven't in weeks. He knew someone traveled to Las Vegas. I don't know how. May-"
"Shut up," I cut in, pressing my temples. His ramblings were giving me a headache.
"You have my word, Miss Lastor. I didn't tell anyone," he practically begged. Probably since I had the tendency to fire someone's ass for merely annoying me.
He was pissing me off right then. He was lucky enough I needed him. For now.
"If he calls again, don't fucking answer it. Is that understood?" I bit out.
"Yes, Miss Lastor."
"Contact me when everything is set," I said before cutting the call and walked back to Andrea's room. "Thirty minutes!" I yelled out through the sound of her yelling, 'Harder', and, 'Give it to me'.
* * *
Jude
"Get out of there and seek medical attention." I huffed out in frustration, pressing my temples. "And after that, pack your shit. You're fired."
"Mr. Lastor-"
"I gave you one rule to follow, Mr. Hurt. Don't fucking engage her unless there's an imminent threat to her safety," I hissed, my fists clenching and unclenching.
"She was sitting on the balustrade. I thought she was going to jump."
"So letting her give you a fucking hand job was just to dissuade her from committing suicide then?"
He didn't answer.
"You should be grateful that I am miles away from you, Mr. Hurt. Or else I would have done far worse than what my sister did to you."
It was my only consolation, the fact that he was bleeding to death.
"I apologize for my actions, Mr. Lastor," he said, not sounding apologetic at all.
"I'll have your payment deposited in your account. Report to Mr. Jenkins for further instructions and if I were you, I'll be sleeping with one eye open after the disgusting act you displayed," I spat out before ending the call.
I threw my phone to the side, dropping myself on the couch and clutching my head.
Great, now I didn't have any eyes or ears on her because the fucking bodyguard I hired for her could not keep it in his goddamn pants.
After an entire week of shutting out the world, refusing to leave her room and only ever coming out when I would literally drag her out of there to eat, she had jetted off to the worst place she could choose. Las fucking Vegas.
And now, according to Mr. Jenkins who was monitoring her calls, she was going to Cabo and she was doing all this with not a penny at her disposal. Granted, Andrea had enough money in her bank account to provide for the both of them and Angel very much used whatever resources she could to her advantage. Which meant she was abusing my firm's jet for her whims. Even if I wanted to revoke her access to my company's jet, she had the authority to overrule me as a silent partner with a thirty percent share to Dahlia.
I groaned, raking my fingers through my hair. I had no idea what to do anymore. If I tried to do more than this, it would only provoke her into doing something much worse.
I knew where this was coming from. I knew what she was trying to do. She was trying to escape again. To not feel because she was feeling too much. It was ironic that the most emotional person I knew could claim she felt nothing when in fact she felt everything.
"Jude?"
I stiffened at the sound of Stella's voice. I closed my eyes for a brief moment, taking in a calming breath before getting to my feet.
"Hey," I whispered as I approached her.
"Did something happen?" she asked, eyeing me in concern.
I shook my head, smiling weakly. "No. I just got a call. Let's go back to bed."
She frowned, glancing over my shoulder and I knew where she was looking at. She was looking at Angel's door. Same way I've been staring at it for the past two days.
"She hasn't come home yet?"
I sighed. "No."
"Do you know where she is?"
"Yes."
"Then let's go," she said, sounding determined.
"Go where?"
"To her."
I chuckled, shaking my head and putting an arm around her. "She'll come back."
She bit her lip, looking at me almost as if telling me that she probably won't come back. I casted away the thought.
"She'll come back," I repeated, more so to make myself believe that.
She nodded and let me lead her back to my room. We laid on my bed and I wrapped my arms around her.
At least I had this. I didn't have to be alone. Even though I knew I couldn't keep her.
"You should sleep," she whispered.
I blinked for a moment, realizing I was staring at the ceiling. I looked at her and she cupped my cheek. I closed my eyes, taking the comfort of her touch.
"You haven't slept in two days, Jude. You need to rest," she said and even though her voice was soft, her words were firm.
"I can't sleep."
"Stop worrying about her."
I chuckled humorlessly, shaking my head as I opened my eyes. "I can't do that either."
She frowned. "She'll come back," she said and I found it ironic that she was now saying my words back to me.
"What if she won't? What if she hurts herself? What if something bad happens and I'm not there? What if..." I trailed off, letting out a harsh breath as I screwed my eyes shut, trying to make my dark thoughts go away. "I can't lose her again," I whispered, my voice breaking at the end.
"Call her. Tell her to come home."
"She won't answer my calls."
I've already lost count of how many times I've tried to contact her and even went so far as to call Andrea. All were rejected.
"We can go get her in the morning?" she suggested.
I shook my head. "She gets angry when I follow her."
She scowled. "Why should she? You only care about her and she's being selfish by putting you through this."
I sighed, brushing her hair lightly. "You don't understand," I said softly. "Angel deals with things differently. She's going through a lot right now. I can't explain it."
I wasn't lying. I just wasn't telling the entire truth. I didn't even tell her that Angel was responsible of the destruction of her apartment and the people who had taken her were under commands to fucking torture her if Angel hadn't withdrawn them before they got started. I couldn't tell her any of it because telling her would mean letting her in. She was too good for the life Angel and I had been living ever since we were born. She wouldn't survive a day in it.
"Still, she should at least answer your calls," Stella insisted. "Does she even care that you're worried sick about her?"
"She doesn't."
Her face fell at my words but I simply smiled.
"My sister stopped caring a long time ago. I did that. I made her stop caring and eventually, stop feeling. It's my fault that she keeps leaving because I left her first. I'm the selfish one. I was all she had and I left her. When I came back, it was too late. I already lost my sister."
"Jude..." she whispered, almost as if she didn't know what else to say.
I sucked in a deep breath and closed my eyes, not wanting to see the confusion, the pity, and the questions in her eyes. I could not let her in. No matter how much I wanted to. Letting her in would not only hurt her, but me too.
If she saw everything in my life, she wouldn't want to stay in it anymore. I don't think I could live with that.