Daddy's Angel, Chapter 2

I hate this. I hate this. I absolutely fucking hate this.

The mood was set for a nice romantic occasion. The ceiling lights were dimmed as candles surrounded the large living room. Different incense scents filled the mansion with sensual and exotic aromas. The small crackle of a fireplace occasionally broke up the monotony of peace and quiet. In a far corner, a stereo system banged out sensual and sexual themed music for the night.

It was perfect for a couple wanting to have an intimate evening. For Jessica, it was not the way she would have liked to spend her evening. It was far from it.

Upstairs in the mansion, Jessica changed into her standard masseuse uniform. It was similar to a nurse’s wardrobe back in the day. It was white and fitted around the waist. There was a zipper down the front and pockets on both thighs. The outfit was short, just barely covering Jessica’s ass. Matching white thigh-highs completed the look with clear stiletto heels. To Jessica, she didn’t look like any masseuse she’s ever seen.

She looked like what she was—an overpaid and high-priced prostitute.

Jessica absolutely loathed what she did. She should like it. She tried to convince herself she needed to like it. But she didn’t. She hated it and that was in direct contrast with the other girls’ feelings toward the business. Layla didn’t care, Vanilla thought it was fun and Eve was simply looking for another way to make money.

But Jessica hated what she did for a living. It was dirty, disgusting, and despicable. She always felt she needed to strip her body of the filth after a session and quickly formed a habit of drinking a glass of red wine every night to relax her nerves.

But she wanted to please Jackson. Seeing him happy and satisfied gave her a sick twisted sense of accomplishment. If he was happy, that’s all that mattered to Jessica, despite how miserable she was.

No, I love this. I love this. I love this.

The evening started off as it always did. Jessica and the john would have dinner with a simple chit-chatter and small talk. Shortly after dessert was served, it was Jessica’s cue to go upstairs to change to something more provocative and desirable that evening. While was Jessica gone, Jackson and the suitor finalized the final business arrangements, what was expected and the final dollar amount. Jackson told the girls it was to make sure the guy wanted to proceed with the evening. But the girls knew better. It was Jackson’s way of sniffing out the police.

Once everything was finalized, Jackson waited outside the home for about an hour. He was never inside the residence when the business transaction was took place nor did he wait in the truck. If anything went wrong, he wanted to be close to his girls. A few times he had to rescue the girls from johns who took advantage of their services. Needless to say, the johns were promptly served with punishment that beyond cruel and unusual. Jackson stood nearly seven feet tall with a muscular build with a voice that was deep and quivering. Tattoos sleeved his arms and much of his upper body and his voice was deep but quivering.

But it was his presence that commanded respect. He never asked for it nor did he give it away to anyone. Whenever Jackson walked into a room, there was an aura of fear and admiration that quickly followed him. He was a charming businessman who often brokered deals wearing an Armani suit. He was also a menacing being who wasted no time serving someone a face full of knuckles if they looked at him wrong.

“Angel,” Jessica heard Jackson’s voice beckon her from downstairs, “are you ready?”

Jessica briefly closed her eyes and whispered a Hail Mary. She wasn’t very religious but found herself becoming more so every day. She needed something to keep her sane and if praying to God was helping her, so be it. She slowly cracked opened her eyes and took a moment to stare at herself in the mirror.

I love what I do. I love what I do. I love what I do. “I’m on my way.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------

“How did it go?” Jackson asked.

Jessica wasted no time handing over the five crisp hundred dollar bills. The sooner they were out of her hands, the better she felt. Holding the money only served as a reminder of what just transpired and Jessica only wanted to forget, rather than reminisce. “It went well, Daddy,” she softly spoke.

Jackson counted out the money and nodded in agreement. He put the truck in drive and headed home. The evening was successful. Great food, great conversation, and the john hopefully received great head. According to Jackson, it should’ve been a happy ending for all involved.

But as he looked over to his side and saw his Angel stare out into the darkness, Jackson knew she was anything but happy. He wasn’t oblivious to Jessica’s feelings or attitude. When she was upset, Jessica became reserved and withdrawn from everyone. When she was angry, she was very snappy and condescending to the point of being intentionally hurtful. When she was aroused, Jessica was a vixen, wanting to taste every drop her Daddy had to offer.

He knew her feelings and emotions before she spoke of them. He read her like the Braille alphabet and only waited for her to say anything to the contrary on what she was acting. He admired her for putting on a good show and she would be greatly rewarded later.

But she never said one word. Ever. It was as if she knew her role and position in Jackson’s life—she made the money, he took care of her, end of story. It was something Jackson came to appreciate. It was also something that drove him nuts. His Angel wasn’t passive-aggressive, but he couldn’t quite put his fingers on exactly what was her deal. Layla was a bitch; he could deal with that. Kelly was needy; he could deal with that as well. Eve couldn’t care either way; she just wanted to get paid. Jackson definitely had no problem with her.

But it was his Angel that he could never figure out. She never complained. She didn’t mop or pout when she didn’t get her way. She didn’t hold grudges or plot against him in retaliation. She was—angelic.

Maybe she was too angelic. Jessica was so quiet, Jackson had to keep extra tabs on her whereabouts. She told him whatever he wanted to know but it didn’t deter the suspicions from rising and forming in his head. She was up to something. She had to be. Why else would be so quiet? “Are you hungry?” He asked.

Jessica rubbed her arms and finally looked over at her protector. No matter what transpired during the night, Jackson had a way of comforting her without doing a single thing. “I could use a bite to eat,” she replied.

------------------------------------------------

Jenny’s Deli was an all-night spot that catered to everyone in L.A. It didn’t matter if one was an A-list celebrity or a regular person off the street; everyone still received the same treatment. The diner had a 1950s feel with a present-day touch. Waitresses were nicknamed Daisy, Baby or Sugar. A doo-wop group was on call to serenade the guests with requests.

But Jenny’s Deli was special for another reason. It would always be the place Jackson saved Jessica and introduced her to his world.

She would never forget that fateful evening. She was going on day three of starvation but it wasn’t because she trying to maintain her svelte frame. Jessica simply could not afford groceries. She survived on Slim-Fast shakes but it didn’t curb her appetite for wanting a good old-fashioned cheeseburger.

Jackson was hanging out with some of his friends when he spotted Jessica walking down the street, holding her stomach. He didn’t know much about the female body but he could tell when someone hadn’t eaten in days. Hunger didn’t discriminate. Jackson offered Jessica to sit down and join him for dinner. Normally, Jessica would turn down dinner with strangers but at that point, she was so hungry it didn’t matter.

And that was when Jessica’s life ended—and began.