The Escort

41 - Connections

Michael's touch felt warm against Diana's cold, reptile-like hands. He wrapped his slender fingers around hers and hurried to remove them from his body with disgust.

The smile that was adorning her face quickly dropped, as the man she desired took a couple of steps away and turned around to glare down at her.

"Your words mean shit to me. You should've loved me when u had the chance, when I madly loved u. Don't try and mess with ma head now, knowing all the shit I'm goin thru."

"Michael I'm not messing with you! Baby, can't you see how honest I am? How my soul is pouring out of me?"

Jackson guffawed and shook his head. "Yeah, as if u had a fuckin' soul."

Diana pushed him, making him stumble back as he continued to snicker. She was running out of words, she had no idea how to get through his hard exterior. How infatuated with that bitch could her man be? What did she do to have him so securely wrapped around her finger?

Suddenly, a light bulb lit over her head and her usual mischievous grimace took over her features. Michael noticed, and his laughter died down immediately as he studied her. "Tell me, Michael... Where's your little 'escort'? Cuz she certainly ain't here."

His big eyes shifted rapidly between hers and she stared back, unfazed. She knew something, he could tell. "Why u ask?"

"Well, first of all, you're alone, stressed, and obviously high as fuck... I'm sure that after what went down at that godforsaken whorehouse, she has nowhere to go, and knowing you, you'd be having her staying here. She got in trouble in Milan, didn't she?" Diana smirked, not removing her intense gaze from his, and felt victorious when his handsome face contorted with tension and his jaw clenched the way it did when he couldn't come up with any witty comeback.

"What u care where she at?" He reiterated, slowly losing his temper.

The woman tapped her fingers against her heart-shaped lips and teased him. "Hmm, maybe if she doesn't get to come back, you could wake up from this stupid trance and get your life back on track. Maybe I could do something about that."

Michael licked his lips, holding on to the last thin strain of calmness that was left within his troubled interior. "Diana, stop fuckin' tryna mess with me, I'm warning you."

"Or what?" She chuckled with raised eyebrows, defying him. "What could u possibly do, Michael?"

His eyes ignited with rage as he extended his arm in a swift motion and wrapped a big hand tightly around her neck. Diana gasped and her eyes widened greatly in both shock and despair, as she instinctively tried to free herself from his strong grasp. But he was furious and wouldn't let her go.

"I could snap ur fuckin' neck like a chicken bone, bitch. You keep pushin' and pushin' and I'm way beyond givin' a damn fuck bout the outcome, cuz guess what? Everything already went to fuckin' shit!"

He squeezed her neck harder and she cried desperately, scratching and punching his hand and forearm, but Michael was seeing red, his mind was absolutely clouded and he didn't feel anything.

His teeth sank furiously into his bottom lip and his deathly, unrecognizable glare was all she could see as she started to feel lightheaded and weak.

The doorbell's loud sound came through the deafening ring in Michael's ears. He blinked rapidly and his eyes widened in shock the second he realized what he was doing. He instantly opened his hand, releasing her, and watched
the small woman struggling to breathe, desperately gasping for air with a terrified expression on her reddish face.

Her eyes were filled with tears and she was shaking, she couldn't believe he just did that, she couldn't believe he would've been capable of laying a finger on her, ever...