Author's Note: Hey, guys! Just wanted to let you all know about the contest being held on the fan board! It's going on this month, and everyone who participates gets a little something!
“Like you checked up on that guy last month?” the newcomer asked. “Ace doesn’t have the money to keep a stock of Plan-B, you know.”
“Shut up, Angel. Why didn’t Ace send someone else?” Delilah shot back.
“Sandra’s on vacation, Erica’s keeping someone else company, Monica’s in DC… you get the idea. I’m pretty much the only option. Now, get the hell out of here, kid. You know what I told you about leaving the guys alone. It’s bad enough Ace is fooling around with you.”
Delilah nodded and scurried out, slamming the door shut behind her. The newcomer stood before Mark, smiling apologetically. “Sorry about that,” she said. “Must have been kind of weird.”
“Understatement of the year, sweetie,” Mark responded.
For the first time, he took a good look at the newcomer. Female, but definitely closer to his age. Very pale under her caked on makeup. Huge gray eyes. Curly hair messily framing her face. A few yellowish healing bruises here and there, as well as fresher purple bruises. Also, some marks --bug bites?-- in varying stages of healing on her arms. She smiled cheerily at him and sat beside him.
“So,” she murmured, leaning against him, “anything I can do for you?”
“Damn it,” Mark snapped, backing away from her. “Do we need to go through this again? I don’t want that kind of… you know… assistance.”
Angel frowned, then said hesitantly, “Look, dude, just between you and me, Ace will be ticked off if I just leave you alone. He likes his guests to be… uh… provided for.”
“There’s a time where I would have gladly taken you up on that, but I really don’t want that kind of thing. I have enough woman problems as it is.”
“But I can’t just leave you in here alone!” Angel argued. “If I do, Ace will… he’ll…”
“He’ll what?” Mark replied. “Is he going to yell at you or something?”
Angel looked away. “Yeah, something like that,” she muttered.
Mark lightly touched a bruise on her arm. “Did he do this?” he asked, frowning.
“Look, it’s nothing!” Angel snapped, pulling her arm away from Mark. “It’s nothing to worry about.”
“Sweetie, you have bruises all over your arms and legs. If one of my friends came in looking like you, I’d want to have a nice, private talk with their better half, if you get me.”
“I’m clumsy. Really, it’s nothing.”
Mark frowned and gave her arms a better look. Up close, the marks that he thought were bug bites…
“And these?” he asked, touching one.
Angel glared at Mark. “Ancient history.”
“They look pretty recent to me.”
“I don’t know why the hell you care so much. You don’t know squat about me. I probably mean as much to you as… I dunno… some random chick on the street.”
“And I would be just as concerned if I saw ‘some random chick on the street’ looking like you. You’re bruised up, have track marks, and look like you’ve been missing a few meals.”
“What, do you like fixer-uppers or something?” Angel replied, rolling her eyes. “Man, you’re sick.”
“Well, one of the women I care about is kind of a fixer-upper, but that’s neither here nor there,” Mark said, shrugging. “Look, if we’re going to be stuck dealing with each other for a while, we might as well try to get along. When I leave, you don’t have to deal with me ever again. Fair deal?”
“Yeah, I guess,” Angel responded, rolling her eyes.
“Fine. Now that we’ve gotten that settled… I’m Mark. And you?”
“People around here call me Angel.”
“Is that your real name?”
“It’s real enough.”
Click Next: Chapter 49, Part 4 to continue...
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