Not What I Signed Up For. (2)

Not What I Signed Up For. (2)

A Chapter by

Cecily starts to see the darker side to Angel but is determined not to wind up on the streets again while Angel also gets fed up with her attitude.


Bold = FEVER

Regular = Tag

Cecily smiled at his laugh, an open mouth grin. He sounded hearty, real, and she resisted the urge to fix his tie. She pulled her foot back; just barely missing the cigarette hit the floor. She quickly stomped on it, scared it might start a fire, and was nearly lifted off of her feet when he gripped her collar. Her golden eyes were bright, startled, secretly excited. In her chest, she could feel her heart pumping faster than it had in ages. It held fear and longing for whatever world this man promised. After all, it had to be better than the streets.

         "A-A star?"

         Her face flushed even more and she tried to calm herself down. A star? Like a movie star? She couldn't act! Could she? She couldn't remember if she could. But he sure as hell seemed like he knew! And sure, if he knew, Cecily would let him lead her the way! Of course, leading her the way wasn't thought to be taken literally until he tugged on her collar and pulled her into the plain office. She squealed and gripped his front jacket, scrambling to keep up with him, and was surprised when she was thrown across onto the couch like nothing. Okay, okay maybe he was just excited to get her all signed up, yeah that was it! Squirming on the couch, careful not to get her feet on it, she sat up and scooted to the edge, mouth hanging open as she stared at how organized everything was. And his desk! It was so big!

         "You could probably hide a person under that desk Sir!" Her head whipped around, trying to take in everything at once.

         "Yeah, oh yes, everything is all nice and fancy blah blah blah." Angel folded his hands and looked the Rat in the eyes. "Gorgeous, what's your name?"

         Cecily turned her head to make eye contact with him, blinking a few times. A wide grin spread across her face and she hopped up from the couch, not seeming to be able to stay in one place or position for too long. She ran over to the front of the desk and plopped down on her knees, propping her arms from the elbow forward up on the desk. She laid her head down on the little pillow she made from her arms on its side and gave him a lop-sided smile.

         "Cecily, and your name Sir?" Her voice was perky and almost song - like, she certainly was excited. 

         "Hey! What the f**k do you think you're doing! You've been out on the streets, s**t-for-brains, and if there's one spot sweat or blood or f*****g trash or whatever s**t you have stuck onto you on my desk, I’ll wring your neck." Angel yelled at her. He ran from his chair, grabbed Cecily by the hair, and yanked her onto the floor.

         "Just sit down somewhere else so I can f*****g talk to you for Christ’s sake?"

         He turned to his desk. Fortunately for the girl, his lacquered rosewood desktop had remained spotless. He glanced back at her and claimed his chair.

          Cecily yelped and gripped at his hands when he ran around and grabbed her hair. She almost clawed at him before he dropped her. Wincing, she looked up at the man and felt a sinking feeling in her chest. Maybe... Maybe she had stepped into the wrong thing. As soon as he sat back down, she bolted up and rubbed her head. Cecily sent a sideways glance back at the door and took a step back. A small head ache was working its way through her, his voice was loud.

         "I-I ain't dirty sir, I just bought these clothes not too long ago. A-And I'm mighty sorry. But... "         

         Looking back at him, she smiled nervously and shifted her weight to her other foot, getting ready to run out of the room. She pointed to the door, not wanting to get into any fights. He suddenly didn't seem like such a pretty man.

         "But I gatta go now. Maybe I'll see ya later?"

         Cecily kept the smile glued to her face and even included a small giggle for effect. She wasn't feeling all too peppy inside anymore, just scared if anything.

         Angel took a deep breath. Now, he knew just what to say. Dealing with Rats was like dealing with shelter pets, he reminded himself. Come on too strong, you'll scare them off. Show them understanding, strike a chord with them, hit a nerve, and they'll follow you till the death.

         He knew before he even said it that the girl would become putty in his hands. It was something not too many of them got to hear, because no one really cared- hell, Angel would stop caring as soon as she cost more to keep than she brought in. But that wasn't the point. He had to hook her, the same way he'd hooked hundreds before.

         "But where will you go?"

         He used the phrase with emotion, with a thoughtful look in his eye. He didn't want to result to beating her, as it would damage her value, so he poured every ounce of love he had left in his body into that one sentence.

         Cecily stopped in her tracks, feeling like someone had just reached right into her and gave her heart a few tugs, a squeeze here and there. After a few moments of quiet thinking, she laughed softly and furrowed her eyebrows, pushing her hair behind her left ear again. Her face was funny, caught between the urge to run and the other urge to hug him tightly. He was right, where would she go? What did she even have to go to?

         "I guess... nowhere." She stuck out her tongue and grinned up at him in a sad sort of way before she stretched her arms out.

         Tilting her head slightly, she listened to the blue collar jingle and stared over at the business man with all the longing in the world. He seemed hot, feverish, maybe he was stressed. Maybe it was all an accident. It was understandable, she was dirty, someone else's trash, he had every right to be angry for a second.

         "Hug me." A half grin was on her face and she wiggled her fingers, standing a few feet in front of the door. "Please, sir." Cecil added, just in case.

         If he tried anything, she would run. A life on the street was better than a life of abuse. Wasn't it? Wasn't that what people said? To stay away from bullies and run from harmful people? But what he offered... could she really reject it so freely?

         Cecily didn't think she could.

         Something in her voice almost made Angel soften up a bit. Almost. He reminded himself to never become attached. Never. Especially to Rats.

         For a second he was laying naked next to her again, running his fingers through her hair, down her shoulder, meeting only slight resistance as he brushed past the collar stitched into her skin and down to her waist.

         But only for a second.

         He found it in him to solemnly hold out one hand towards Cecily, but not much else.

         Cecily bit her lower lip, but quickly she bolted towards him and wrapped her arms around his waist, resisting the urge to break down on his rather expensive looking suit. She knew that this might not be exactly what he was looking for, he seemed more like a handshake man, but she could care less. If he didn't want to deal with it, hell he could throw her out for all she cared.

         But he seemed like he genuinely was worried about her, and she had felt the utmost amount of urgency to cling to it, desperate to be acknowledged. She couldn't say anything, wouldn't say anything (in fear of getting spit on him), but simply pressed her face against the front of his chest. He was sturdy and almost calming, she wanted to hear his heart but his clothes separated her from doing that.

         It was odd, being so close to someone like this and yet being so far away. Her fingers tightened around the sides of his jacket and she fell on her knees in front of his chair, clinging tightly to his waist, careful not to go too low. Cecily cautiously sent a glance up at him, worried he might lash out again.

         Angel gently stroked her hair with one hand. "For f**k's sake," he thought. "I've met a couple 'a these little s***s with daddy issues before but this one takes the f*****g cake." He expertly prevented his outward appearance from reflecting his greedy intentions, and softly took Cecily's chin and aimed her face up at his.

         "Listen, sweetheart." He spoke coldly, but genuinely.  "What's in here-" he pointed to the floor of his office-"is much, much, better than what's out there." He pointed out across the gleaming city. "We both had a rough day, yeah?"

         Angel put on a warm, exaggerated smile.

         "How about this. I give you a bed. I give you some food. Water. And FIRST thing tomorrow morning, we'll meet a few of my friends for breakfast?"

         He felt so disgusted at the idea of talking to a grown woman like she was five years old, but this one was different. She may be annoying in person, but through a screen? Under a spotlight? Wrapped around a pole? She'd draw in the boys like a refrigerator rolling around in magnets.

         Eyes widening as he tilted her chin up further, she felt her cheeks grow hot. Her grip on his suit loosened slightly and she stared up at him in awe. Friends? For breakfast? For what? She wasn't even quite sure what she had gotten herself into, all she knew was that it was a job and that meant money which meant she didn't have to live on the curb anymore or on anyone else's thrown out junk. She huffed slightly and gently pulled away a bit, still sitting on her knees in front of his seat. Her hands were still attached to his jacket, but her eyes were curious and daring as she stared at him.          

         "Why... Why would your friends come over? I was just wonderin'..." She mumbled the last line and looked down at his feet. His shoes were so clean and sparkly compared to hers. Did she really have a right to question him? Cecily looked back up at him, a new found wave of suspicion pushing through her. Her heart was pounding in her ears.

         "And what exactly is my job Sir?"

         "Your job?" Angel retorted.

         "Sweetheart, that's what my friends can decide. You see, it’s very complicated. I know men that know other men that know lots of other men that work with people, people just like you! And they turn those kinds of people into actors, actresses, rock stars, you name it! You work with someone like me, the world is yours."

         He purposely left out w****s, government test subjects, and black market organ "donors" out of the occupation list.

         "Imagine that! You’ll be able to buy a new pair of shoes, at the very least." Angel almost joked with her, taking a jab at her filthy sneakers. "And at the most? Your FREEDOM. You won't have to wear the collar anymore! Think of the doors that open for you."

         Doors to crack houses and sleazy bars? More likely than doors to a private home. But of course saying that is always off-putting.

         Cecily let her mind wander for a bit, thinking. He was right. He was so right! All the things she might be able to do, like even the simple thought of walking through a park without getting a soda can chucked at her head! It was all too appealing and in a second, she was back to her old self. Letting go of his jacket, she slammed her hands down in the gap between his legs, feeling the warmth of the chair.

         "C-Could I get my own fishy!?" Her face flushed but she smiled widely. "Cause... you know. The ones in the pond are fer everyone. And... And I ain't wantin' much! Just to live. Peacefully. Happily. I mean!" Giggling softly, she blew a chunk of hair from her eyes and stared up at him.

         So she had to go through those guys first? Cecily felt intimidated and wondered if


         "Can I stay with you?"

         Gulping, her voice was much softer now as she gazed up at him. She had never been good with making impressions on people, typically not good ones at least. She often got side tracked and felt like she strayed from the actual topic at hand and that made her even more nervous. There was no way she was going to let this opportunity slip from her grasp.


         Normally, Angel would have taken the rat to the safe house where he kept the rest of his merchandise safe and sound. But he couldn't risk it with this one. He knew all too well, that, despite his harsh threats, the guards there still got frisky every now and then, or sometimes felt the need to sharpen their shooting skills. No. That wouldn't be the case with Cecily. She could sleep on the couch in his living room. He would take the bed. Maybe, to discourage her from changing her mind during the night, he could ease a drop of painkillers or two into her drink. The s**t was addictive as hell, but it'd knock her out and damn near be out of her system by morning.

         "Yeah. You'll stay with me. If you promise not to f**k with anything in my apartment." Best to establish ground rules now than to have her bounce off his walls like a little s**t on meth and break everything in sight. Which of course would only lead to beatings.

         Eyes widening, a soft squeak of delight escaped her lips and she quickly jumped up, stepping aside so she wouldn't be in the way of the desk or if he wanted to get up from his seat. She was also very careful not to bump anything as she did so. Clapping her hands together, she jumped slightly and giggled, ready to dance right out of the building. A place! A real place to sleep! This meant she wouldn’t have to fight with the rest of the abandoned people for a place to hide from the rain at night. Flipping a piece of her red licorice colored hair back, she gave the man a thumbs up and a super huge grin.

         "I promise I won't be touchin' nothin' I ain't allowed to touch, Sir!"

      Cecily stopped short and put one fist on her hip, her left hand reaching up to tap her lips.

      "Er, that reminds me, Sir, you never told me your name or anythin'. Can I ask for it?"

      Smiling at him, she tilted her head to the side ever so slightly, feeling the weight of her collar shift around her neck. Today certainly was turning out to be much better than she had though. Sure, it started with the normal bullying from strangers she never met, but now! Now she was going to be... a star. She wondered what exactly that meant she had to do. Certainly she would have to clean up and get more... fashionable. Though she had to admit, her blue shirt was kind of growing on her. She loved the brightness to it.

         He grimaced. He hated nothing more than having these people get attached to him. After all, she would barely even see him after he sold her- no, leased her to some sleaze ball. She was too special to just sell. She'd be let out of his sight only after a lot of fine print was passed over his desk. He drifted off for a moment, imagining the thought of one rat raking him in more money in one quarter than a hundred could in a year.

         Angel soon came back to the question at hand. He supposed that her being attached to him wouldn't necessarily be a bad business decision. It meant there was a reduced chance of her running off to another dealer, or con artist, or worse. But he couldn't let it get out of hand. "F**k," he thought. "Ugh.. I guess. I can let her in a little. Nothing too much."

         “You can call me Angel."

         Cecily gasped slightly and covered her mouth with her left hand, staring at him. What kind of coincidence was that? That was... this was crazy! There was no way a man could be named Angel and actually be a nice person. She bent forward a bit, giggling, and tried to keep her hand clasped over her mouth. Her hair spilled over her shoulders, shaking as she continued to have a little laughing fit. It was ridiculous! Absolutely ridiculous! He had to be joking... right? Maybe it was just some sort of pen name so she wouldn't end up stalker her savior, her Angel. Thinking about it, she outburst into laughter, gripping her knees. Wobbling for a moment, Cecily had to be careful she didn't fall as the thought rolled around in her head over and over again. After her little fit, she regained her posture and wiped her eyes, gasping for breath. She ran a hand through her hair, pulling it back into a semi-organized place. She was hiccupping slightly, catching her breath between little gasps, and she was shaking her head, a goofy grin spread across her lips.

         "What a suiting name..." Ridiculous!

         "Oh for Christ's Sake," Angel snapped. "Very F*****G funny. HAH.HAHAHA. HAH. We got ourselves a regular stand-up comic here."

         He couldn't help but blush a little bit. Perhaps he didn't want to tell her his name at first mostly because he knew she'd react like this. Her red mop would flail about, and she'd cackle until her helium-filled head was spinning.

         "Come on already. We've got to go. Cars out late at night aren't always allowed to go about without being... erm...questioned."

         "Imagine the fit she'd have if I told her my last name was DeVille. Very f*****g funny, mom and dad." he thought.

         Before Angel left, he produced a key from his vest pocket and stooped down to a big drawer at the bottom of his desk. He opened it. Inside were two turtleneck sweaters that he kept in every room, in case of an emergency. He knew how people reacted to rats. Especially the Police. Technically, selling them was considered prostitution, which was only a ticket crime these days, but cops had guns. And urges of not-always-great intent.

         "Here," he said. "put this on. It'll hide your collar. F*****g things are a pain to break off, and its 11 at night."

         When he flipped on her, Cecily simply shook her head, grin still plastered on, and when he blushed?! Oh that made it worse! He was so embarrassed! A man, like him, embarrassed? Oh this was too much! Cecily wondered if most people were like this, nice and yet still embarrassed easily. Questioned? Why would they be questioned? As he bent over to open the drawer, she hopped over next to him and peered inside, watching him pull out a turtleneck. The color was boring and she stuck her tongue out, making a face. Why would she wear that? Ew! Hesitantly, she took the turtle neck and held it up with her thumb and pointer finger, away from her, as if it was diseased.

         "Dontcha have anythin' more... tasteful?" She dared a sheepish grin in his direction. As nice as he was acting and all, did a man really expect a woman to be wearing such... such... such hideous clothes? He should know better. And not to mention how long it was! It would cover her shorts and make her look naked!

         The thought made her face flush and she giggled softly, making a face and looking over at him. Cecily was already starting to feel exhausted from the day and she wasn't quite sure how cranky he would get. Angel had seemed to be really stressed out over something earlier, so Cecily was unsure of just how much she could actually push his buttons and get away with it.

         "Just put the damn thing on," he growled. "Or does the big scary man with the cute widdle name have to splash glitter and unicorns all over it first?"

         He was too tired for this s**t. He almost didn't even care about taking precautions at this point. Almost. But still, as far as Angel was concerned, this b***h was gonna put on the f*****g sweater or she was getting smacked.

         Flashing him a smile, Cecily cocked one of her eyebrows up and bent her head to the side a bit, looking past the sweater to him.

         "Actually, glitter would be lovely." After a moment of debating, she sighed and wormed the ugly thing on over her shirt. There was no way she was taking that off. When she had managed to adjust it so it was actually on right, she made a face and struggled to roll the sleeves up a bit. She didn't know if the sweater was Angel's or not, but it sure was huge compared to her tiny body. And it smelt of cigarettes and paper. Like… really old paper. She pushed the neck up a bit more, taking in the odd scent. She was right though; no one would be able to tell she was wearing shorts under the sweater unless she flashed them or sat on the floor. Cecily looked up at Angel, holding the neck up to her nose. Her fingers didn't even stick out of the sleeves; they were too long and kept falling down.

         "Ah f**k," he said. "I suppose if anyone DOES see you now they'll just think you're homeless and not a rat. I know they ain't too pretty sweetheart but don't worry, I’ll get you all dressed up for tomorrow. We're going now, got it?"

         He took Cecily by the arm and led her into the hallway. He roughly shut the door behind him and pressed the elevator button.

         "Son of a f*****g b***h," he thought. "Now's a great time to get a migraine." He raised his hand to his head and massaged his temples, which were already starting to form tiny beads of sweat. "This girl better shut up on the way home or I’m throwing her out of the car."

         The elevator came to their floor with a *DING* that seemed to pierce Angel's skull. He practically threw the girl inside and slammed the button to the garage floor.

         "Argh, I just need to sleep. A drink. And some sleep." He kept one hand at the top of his head, granting him shelter from the harsh florescent lights overhead.

         "We'll be downstairs in a sec," he grumbled.

         With that, he removed the hand from his forehead and reached into his pocket for his carton of cigarettes. "FUUUUUCCCKKK me." He groaned as his fingers scratched against nothing but paper.

         "Sweetheart, you don't have a smoke on you by any chance?" Angel questioned her in the sweetest voice he could manage, and even threw her another grin. Taking up smoking, he decided, wasn't the best decision he'd ever made. The fuckers were getting close to 10 dollars a box, and the buzz that one used to give him now took two or three. But it was a sort of comfort, something he could hold in his hand and breathe in when he needed to think.

         As Angel gripped at her arm and pulled her along the way, she looked around in awe at the hallway again. The lights were still on, which meant people were still here! So late at night! Cecily had to force herself to remember that Riches worked all the time. That was all they did. Work work work work work. It seemed their life resolved around it, and Cecily couldn't really relate to that. In all her life, she never really had a job. But now, now she did! She sent a quick glance to Angel, watching him rub his forehead and flinch at the sound of the elevator. She peeked in, empty. As he nearly threw her against the back wall, she made a small squeaking noise and stumbled to collect herself. Did she really look homeless? She felt naked if anything, even though she was wearing shorts.

         Angel was irritated, that much was clear, and when he screamed Cecily looked up at him with wild and startled eyes. Cigarettes? Her? Like she could afford such a thing. Quickly, she shook her head but took a step closer to him. Cecily reached up to him, the sleeves falling down to her elbow, and she placed her hands on both sides of his head, gently pressing against his temples. His smile seemed strained and she hoped that he felt okay. Her eyebrows were pulled back in an expression that left her looking worried.

         "Sir... are you okay? Should I go find a cold cloth?" Cecily kept her golden eyes trained on his, making sure he didn't have that red puffy look in his eyes that most people had when they were in pain. But then again, wasn't that always because they were doing the bad things? Like over drinking and drugs?

         A year or two ago, Angel might have welcome a woman's touch after a long day. But that woman was gone, and now Cecily was here. Who was she to try and replace her? Why was she being so cruel to him? He flinched at the feel of her hands and abruptly pushed her away.

         "For f**k's sake, okay? OKAY? Don't make me start f*****g laughing again. I haven't slept in a week, after I’m done dealing with your s**t tomorrow, I’ve got to make sure two shipments come in on time at the docks tomorrow, and you know what else?" He grabbed Cecily by the neck of the sweater and pulled her to his face.

         "IM. OUT. OF. F*****G. SMOKES."

         He let go of the girl and leaned back up against the elevator wall. The door let out another head-splitting *DING*.

         "YEAH, YEEAH, DING F*****G DONG." Angel walked out into dark of the parking garage. The lack of light eased his headache a little, and it eased his temper a little. But for the love of all things breathing, he wanted to just go home. He just hoped Cecily would follow him instead of

just standing there in the elevator shaft blowing spit bubbles like a dumbass.

         As soon as she felt Angel's rough hands pushing her back, she instantly regretting being the person she was. And boy, did she have a right to. Before she had time to back off any further and apologize, he was on her, gripping that stupid turtle neck shirt and lifting her up. She wondered if her shorts were showing now. His breath was smokey and a bit stale and she pulled her shoulders up, trying to hide in herself as he hollered at her. What had she done wrong? Was he grossed out that she touched him? She had washed her hands earlier and hadn't touched anything dirty! She may have been a Rat but she knew about hygiene.

         When he dropped her back down, Cecily made a soft noise and took a few steps back from him, pressing herself up against the opposite end of the elevator. Her chest was heaving as she tried to remember how to breathe. He had been so close, and so... scary. When the door opened and he started screaming again, she ignored it.

         As soon as Angel stepped out, she was so very tempted to start bawling, but instead, she sniffled and wiped her eyes with the back of the long sleeve and stumbled after him. She clutched her hand around the bottom hem of the back of his suit jacket, heart thudding loudly. This man could try and push her out all he wanted, but the old saying was true and she knew it. Feed them once and they keep coming back. There was no way she was going to let him just up and leave and if Angel thought she would be so easy to scare, oh she would prove him wrong all right. Cecily made the most determined face she could muster, following closely behind him, but careful not to trip over herself or on his shoes and send them both flailing across the garage. Cecily glanced around.

         It was dark and chilly.

© 2011

Author's Note

It's getting there. ^_^

My Review

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I like the detail. You insure all parts of this story is described with skill. I like how you make each character come alive and seem real. A very good chapter. Cecily is trying to figure out the in and out of her new life. A excellent chapter.

Posted 8 Years Ago

I am loving the characters as I read more, a really well thought out piece of work love..shall be reading more as soon as I intrigued as to where this is going to go :)

Posted 8 Years Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

All right, this is starting to make sense. I'm really liking Angel and Cecily now. It's kinda amusing how much he cusses--especially since he seems to have a soft side, deep down.

Posted 8 Years Ago

Hahaha, yes, Angel does swear quite a lot. XD What a sad and angry man.

Posted 8 Years Ago

I love your story! Other then the cuss words it was good as gold! You should submit this in my contest but sorrie I don't pick the winners. I bet your going to get the most votes though. You're going to be a famous writer someday!

Posted 8 Years Ago

This is a unique world you have created. A little description could add a little more to this, but really good so far. Off for more.

Posted 8 Years Ago

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6 Reviews
Added on June 16, 2011
Last Updated on June 16, 2011
Tags: Broken Promises of the Typiacal , rat, rich


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