Notorious

2

You'd think after being in a jail cell for the past four years that I'd be able to just pass right out, no second thoughts.

A warm, relatively comfortable bed and a pillow that wasn't as thin as a cutting board was a luxury should have put me right to sleep.

Wrong.

The bed was fine, the blankets were fine. Everything was the way I had left it. Except it smelt like her, which normally wouldn't have been that big of a deal; but being away from girls for years had given me some issues that were going to have to be solved soon or I was going to knock someone out from my sexual frustration.

I tried to dream, even though I normally didn't. My sleep was black, endless and sometimes scary when the demons in my head started to taunt me.

Instead, I thought of her. I remembered what we had used to be and how I had seen her the way nobody else had- naked and trembling underneath me. Vulnerable. Which was something Nicolina Romalotti was not, or so she seemed to think.

Shit, I remember when she used to be scared to even speak; especially when she was just a kid coming around with different bruises on parts of her body. She was scared of men for the longest time.

I thought I heard a door shut and instantly I jumped up to look out my bedroom window to see who had left.

Being in jail for so long, whenever I heard a noise in the middle of the night I was so used to jumping up; ready to fight. Usually when you heard some shut a door that meant you were going to get cut up or even killed.

Sure enough, Nikki was walking down the street where she opened the door to Scar's tiny house, three figures in the window.

I felt weird watching from my own house, but it was right across the street and it was two in the morning, so I was curious as to why she was going over there of all places.

When she walked out with Mark trailing behind her, I found out why; which made my almost non-existing heart sink deeper into my body.

Of course she wouldn't want me. Why should she? I was the asshole that ruined her, that made her the way she was now. I wanted her to hate me for long to make things easier on myself, but now that she did, I didn't like the way it made me feel.

But Mark?

The thought of someone else's arms around her, someone else being able to see her the way I used to look at her so many times was enough to make me sick to my stomach.

A girl was making me sick to my stomach and I was a cold blooded killer.

It was almost laughable.

I lit a cigarette.

Now I really couldn't fucking sleep. I couldn't even jerk off to her, knowing she was down the street having someone else make her moan.

I stayed up until I saw her walking down the street again, hands in her pockets and her hood up; attempting to sneak into the house unnoticed. It wasn't even twenty minutes later which made me laugh out loud.

Over already? The best Mark could do was fifteen minutes?

We used to go for hours.

Man, if I had her for the night I could make her forget everybody else but me. Not this twenty minute bullshit.

A part of me waited for her to come padding down the hallway and climb into bed with me, but she was stubborn and it would take a lot more than just talking to her for five minutes to finally get her to trust me again.