Something Special

Prologue

The thumping music was almost deafening to Alex Cross. He loved it though. The swarming crowds. The cramped sweaty bodies. To him it was all part of an awesome party. The club he was at was called 'Crystals' and was best known for its girls. They would slink around, putting a name and a number in your pocket. If you were lucky, your girl would come cheap. If not, you'd end up forking out a small fortune for a quickie in one of the small rooms in the back. Alex didn't mind though. Once the girl found out who he was, usually they'd go home with him. A shag with a celeb was better then nothing right?!

At this moment, it was a busty redhead that had his attention. She was prowling towards him, in thigh high leather boots and not a lot else. "Hey sweetie," she purrs into his ear, making sure she was heard above 'Avicii'. Her hand slides down his body. "You were looking lonely. I thought I'd best keep you company." Her hand brushes over his sensitive part and he feels his pulse in his throat. "We should get out of here." he growls into her ear, breathing in her sweet scent. She nods. Her bright curls bouncing. "My thoughts exactly!"

From across the room Reggie, his best friend, smirks. Damn that boy works quickly! Alex's eyes meet his and he smiles broadly when he see's that Reggie also had bagged a girl. They both make their way to the exit, toward the limo waiting for them. Alex was currently promoting his latest film and he was loving being in London. It made a nice change from rural Wales which is where he'd been filming. The limo was waiting for them outside the club and the cold air hit them like a slap in the face as they stumbled out of they loud club.

Alex opens the limo door. "Your carriage awaits you." He says with a bow. She giggles and covers her mouth with her hand before clambering into the luxury vehicle. Alex hops in agilely after her. Once Reggie and his girl slip in, the limo pulls away from the club.

...................................................................................

In another part of London, Tara Lincoln begins the steep climb up her tower block. She was still in her waitressing uniform. It consisted of a simple black blouse and skinny black trousers. She'd left in such a rush that evening that she'd forgot to bring her jacket with her, so she hurried up the stairs, her legs pumping. She'd had a good night, with a plentiful amount of tips coming her way. That, along with her wage slip were tucked safely in her bags inside pocket. Of course, she wouldn't be above to keep all of her money. But she liked to pretend she could, even if it was only for a while.

As she climbs up the stairs to the 16th floor (the lift wasn't working... Again), she quietly counts the steps. It helped sooth her growing nerves that were building as she got closer to her flat. When she gets to her floor she has to take several breaths to calm herself. "Come on Tara." she murmurs to herself, smoothing down the invisible creases on her blouse. "You can do this." She takes her key and fits it into the lock with shaking hands. But she knew it wasn't going to be good when she opens the door. The nauseating smell of booze hit her with the force of a brick.

"Dad?" she calls out. Her voice betraying her fear. "Are you here?" That's when she hears him. His loud, unsteady breathing. She puts her keys down on the hall table and slowly makes her way to the living room. He stood there in the middle of room. A bottle clutched in his hand. "You're late." he states, his words slurred. "Yes. I had to help out one if the new girls. I'm sorry." She keeps her eyes trained on the ground, willing it to open up and swallow her. He grunts before settling back onto the sofa and continuing to watch his program.

Silently she thanks whoever was listening before wordlessly tidying up the living room. It was a mess, with beer bottles and cigar stubs scattered around the place. On the floor by the sofa was a mysterious stain so she goes to the kitchen and wets a rag before getting onto her hands and knees and scrubbing the carpet with a fierce determination. Just after she'd finished a foot kicks her hard in the back. She falls forward, knocking over the whiskey bottle.

For a second there was silence. Then there noise. Tara's dad was yelling obscenities at Tara. As she scarpered away from him, still on her hands and knees. "Get here you little shit!" he yells, grabbing a massive chunk of her hair and wrenching her back. She bites her tongue to keep her from screaming and closed her eyes. The first blow was aimed at her lower back. Her kidneys. She flattened herself to the floor just in time. His clenched fist swishes an inch above her. Harmlessly hitting the air. But by deflecting that blow, she'd just managed to anger him more. She knew that the next punch wouldn't miss her.

He rolls her over and puts his foot on her throat. "Don't you ever do that again. Do you hear me?" and without waiting for an answer, he yanks her off of the ground he hits her in her stomach, knocking the wind out of her. She doubles over but he just grabs her by the hair and tells her to look at him in the eyes. Tara straightens up slowly, scared to look. When she does all she sees is pure hatred. He spits in her face before punching her in the face. She hears a nasty crack and in that moment knows that he'd gone to far.

Then she blacks out.