Deck of Cards

Chapter Four | Boy Toy

It had been a long and exhausting day for Alessia, who had spent her time tugging Luca around a city that he was supposed to know like the back of his hand. Unfortunately, though, he barely knew the difference between Chinatown and Soho, so of course Alessia had to take the lead. Now, though, she was prepared to just lay on her couch and indulge in a slew of Criminal Minds episodes on Netflix.

The pizza she had ordered her just arrived and now, she was perched on her couch, stuffing her face. Was she attempting to please anybody? Her choice of wardrobe – a magenta Nike sports bra, matching spandex and a pair of low-riding sweatpants – answers that question with a sold "no". The girl was home for the night and was thankful for the alone time due to the fact that for the past week, Chase, Brielle and the rest of the Jacks wouldn't leave her alone. Her head was practically reeling due to the stress and just as she was about to relax her thin body in the cushions, a knock rattled at her apartment door.

"Go away!" she groaned quite loudly, attempting to scare the knocker away from her. The irritating sound, though, only intensified and was followed by a grunt of her name: a grunt she could recognize from miles away.

"You better be on the verge of death, Chase, I swear to God," she hissed while swinging the door open. The brunette attempted not to notice Chase's eyes widening upon realizing how revealing her comfort attire happened to be, but he was blatantly scanning her exposed skin.

"Who's here?" he blurted out, causing one of her eyebrows to immediately arch upward in surprise at the bluntness of his tone.

"No one?" her voice rang through the air, dripping with curiosity as to why he would simply assume that she had company. Was it the pizza pie?

"You look like you were, uh, with a guy," the typically arrogant young man stammered, his pale cheeks flushing a deep shade of red as he tugged his fingers through his practically bleached blonde hair. His response prompted Alessia to blatantly roll her piercing blue eyes, shooting him a fleeting dirty look right after.

"So why are you here?" she questioned, stepping back into her large apartment and listening as he followed. Without even turning her head to look behind her, she could feel his presence practically towering over her. Her breathing hitched in her throat upon feeling a strong hand grasp her shoulder, her mind darting back to prior years. Her darkest times.

"God dammit," the twelve year old heard his voice bounce off of the walls, filling the entire house from beneath her bedroom. There she sat, calmly perched on her bed as she attempted to drown out the sounds of his bitter yells with the music of her stereo.

 

Whenever the Phillies played the Mets, he was angry because the Mets typically emerged with some sort of victory: close or a landslide. This evening, though, represented no change in the pattern. So Alessia remained still, trying to shake the chills of the anticipation that danced up her skin as she remained on her bed. Still, silent.

 

A slew of curse words erupted loudly, his voice bellowing even louder than it had previously. Most likely a home run, she noted to herself, as she continued to listen. That's when she heard it, though. The glass had broken, and that was when she knew to hide.

"Let go of me," she growled, unable to shake the feeling of his hand off of her body. His fingers felt like fire, but not the electrifying, intensifying kind. It was more like the kind that burned holes through skin and claimed its victims within its flames.