Blackmailed

5

On Saturday the 30th of March 2024, Angel won the lottery. The jackpot. Fourteen billion pounds.

She thought about all the things she could do with it, panicking at the thought of choosing who to give to and who she could get away with lying to.

"Who should I tell first?" she wondered briefly before calling Damien and then her mother.

Only her mother arrived at the house, though Angel could sense and hear others moving about, just out of her field of vision.

Moments later, an ambulance crew arrived. An Irish bloke and a big fella.

"Do you always send an ambulance in case people go into shock after winning so much money?" Angel asked.

Then she looked down.

"I'm naked," she thought. "It's like a bad dream. Wait... am I dreaming?"

What was the difference between being awake and asleep - she had to figure it out before it was too late.

"I can't die in my dreams," she thought and grabbed for the nearest sharp object.

That was when the ambulance men pinned her into the back of the ambulance.

Next thing she knew, Angel was in a hospital bed.

All she wanted to do was see Damien. She had to escape.

Carefully she followed another patient to the exit and asked her for a cigarette.

The girl turned to her with a smile. "I'm Amazing Grace."

Amazing Grace hugged her, passed her a cigarette and led her into the carpark smoking area. Of course a guard had to follow. She could maybe outrun the guy. Maybe.

She didn't make it very far before he dragged her back and left her in the care of Grace.

Amazing Grace told her story after story, initiating her into the hospital. Some of the others weren't as welcoming. One girl shouted at her, one ignored her and one asked her to roll a cigarette with dry clumpy weed. She did her best and it wasn't bad.

Angel told a lot of stories too, but only ones people would want to hear. The ones that would make people like her.

After a while, she settled into life there. Breakfast was first thing. Then some sort of activity - usually crafting, bingo or karaoke.

Eventually, she was allowed to go out to smoke, but didn't have any cigarettes, so she had to rely on the kindness of strangers until she got her money.

It was an entire month until she got out of that prison. If they kept her any longer she had an escape plan ready.

What she got home to was not what she had left.

Damien was gone.

The pets were gone and everything was sparkling clean.

"We sorted everything for you," her mother said. "We got rid of that abusive freak and his pets. We cleaned up everything.

"What?" Angel muttered, lip quivering. "How could you do that to me?"

"We did to you? Look what we did for you. You would have lost thing house if it wasn't for me." Her mother scowled.

Shoving them out of the door, she turned to her phone to message Damien.

One tick.

That meant he had blocked her.

How could he do this to her.

No.

It wasn't his fault. Her parents had forced him.

She wrote him a letter begging him to see her, added it to a parcel with a watch she had bought for him.

Then she waited.

It was a few weeks later but he did reply.

"Thank you for the watch."

It wasn't long before she got to see him again and she couldn't wait.

They met outside his work at 11pm - closing time. He appeared at the door and led her upstairs to the snooker hall.

It was dark and dirty but all Angel could focus on was him. He was perfect.

He wore a new jacket, his usual chinos and a collared shirt along with an assortment of jewellery and of course, a watch.

He really was the best looking man on Earth.

"I should tell him that," Angel made a mental note.

They went for a few drinks at a pub called "The Prince". The place was crowded, a sea of shaved heads, coloured mohawks, tattoo's and piercings. Most of the other customers were either old rockers, witchy looking goths or non-binary looking people.

"There's unisex toilets, by the way, so knock first." Damien told her.

"Do they not have locks?" she wondered but did not ask.

After they ordered drinks he sat outside and called his best friend to come join them.

"My company not good enough?" she wondered.

As they chatted, she tried to join in but had little of interest to add to the conversation about past exploits and guitars.

They finally got home at 2am, but which time they were both tired. He got into bed.

"Did I ever tell you about how we used to speed wank in prison?" he asked. He liked to talk about prison.

"We would call the guard, and the guard would take between 8 minutes and 30 minutes to haul their lazy ass up to your cell. In that time, you gotta wank until you come."

I nodded. "Nice."

"Hmm," he nodded.

"I had to get rid of all my guns you know," he told her, a drastic change of subject. "Your parents threatened to call the police on me. Even drove me to the station."

"Oh my God I am so so sorry," I gushed. "I hate them. I am never speaking to them again."

He said nothing.

"Are we gonna have s*x?" she wondered, but did not want to make the first move.

Eventually she got sick of waiting for him to make the move so she did it, rubbing his side and moving her hand closer to his crotch before sliding a hand into his boxers and grabbing his c**k.

He let her suck on it for a bit before grabbing her by the neck and shoving it inside her so hard she cried and begged him to stop.

"Be nice please?" she asked.

"Kiss me, tell me everything is gonna be okay and get my d**k back in your slut mouth." He demanded.

Angel obeyed without question.