My Masters' Nightmare Season 1, Episode 7 Connections Read online

  The dealer clamped a hand over Jagger’s mouth and thrust a baggie at his chest. Once Jagger took it, the man removed his hand. Jagger smiled, although the expression didn’t appear right. It was almost manic in a way, a strange mixture of relief and agony all rolled into one. He took a step back, almost falling over. Bingo! That’s why he didn’t look right. He was higher than a fucking kite.

  Jagger opened the baggie, instantly stuffing its contents into his mouth. He tossed the wrapping, then went to leave. As he passed a table full of woman, a hand snaked out, touching his ass. He spun around and shouted at the culprit, the woman shrinking in her seat. His face went all strange again, as though the drugs were taking him someplace else. He pushed past the women and headed onto the empty dance floor, stopping to look up at the ceiling. I watched as his body swayed to the music. He wasn’t dancing, just moving without thought, the drugs probably controlling his body. It was kind of fascinating to watch, plus his expression had me transfixed. Not sexually of course, he wasn’t my type, but he appeared haunted, especially with the dark rings under his eyes. He looked like a beautiful haunted doll swaying in a breeze. He started pawing at the air as though he was trying to pick something off a tree, then he closed his eyes. Without warning, he slumped to the floor.

  I shot out from where I was hiding. Other people also went to his aid. I knelt down beside him, checking his pulse. Thankfully, his heartbeat was still going strong. I glanced over at the drug dealer, who was quickly making an exit.

  A bar patron slapped Jagger’s cheek. “Wake up,” he said.

  Jagger didn’t respond.

  “He’s a friend of mine,” I said. “Can you help me take him to my car?”

  “Sure.”

  We lifted him up, each of us taking a side, then headed for the door, dragging his feet behind him. The patrons of the dingy establishment parted for us. I refrained from smiling, thinking this was too good to be true. Jagger was much more important than Thierry, plus if I handed him to the Padre the prick would stay out of my room.

  We headed out into the warm night, dragging Jagger to my car. The people on the street didn’t pay us attention, probably because we looked like a couple of mates helping a drunken friend. It was just lucky Irene hadn’t stuck around long enough to see him.

  We turned down the alleyway I’d parked in, and leaned Jagger up against my Audi. The guy helping me held Jagger upright, while I opened the backdoor. He then helped me put Jagger inside. I said thanks, then shut the door and got into the car as the man walked off.

  I pulled out my cell and phoned Dora. “Swiper has Jagger,” I said, referring to a Dora the Explorer character. I had watched the program with Mini-Dad—my four-year-old brother—so I could find lines to tease my sister with.

  “What?” Dora said, sounding confused.

  “I have Jagger D’Angelo in my car.”

  “You have Jagger!” she squealed. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  She hung up before I could tell her not to come. I stuffed my cell in my pocket and glanced back at Jagger, who was still out cold. I frowned, noticing the bruising around his throat. It looked like someone had tried to strangle him. I got out of the car and opened the backdoor, pushing his shirt aside. More bruising colored his skin, giving me the impression he’d been beaten up.

  “What the fuck happened to you?” I said to the unconscious man.

  “Are you molesting him?” Dora’s voice came from behind me.

  I pushed out of the car. “Hell no, he’s not my type. I just noticed he’s a bit fucked up. He has bruises all over his body.” I moved out of the way so she could see.

  She poked her head in the car. “Oh, the poor baby.”

  “Poor baby my ass, he’s a D’Angelo.”

  “As long as he’s not Frano, I don’t care. Jagger didn’t hurt our family; instead it looks like someone hurt him. Look at the strangulation marks.”

  “I’d say it was the Padre. He probably held Jagger down by the throat as he fucked him.”

  She pulled back, looking shocked. “You’re kidding?”

  “No, he was torturing Jagger downstairs at the House of Whores.”

  “And you want to take Jagger back to that monster?” she said, her eyes wide with horror.

  “I wasn’t planning on getting Jagger; I just happened to run into him. He passed out, so I had someone help me get him here. I told them I was a friend.”

  “Well, you can’t let the Padre touch him again.”

  “He’ll be dead soon enough, so there’s no use stressing over a few fucks.”

  “You can’t kill the cutie-pie. We’re after Frano, not him.”

  “No, we’re going to kill all the D’Angelos.”

  “I said you can’t kill him.”

  “Stop being so demanding.”

  “No, you stop being a Christo wannabe.”

  “I won’t kill Jagger; it’ll be Christo who’ll do it.”

  She glared at me. “You’re not taking Jagger to him. He’ll slice him up just for fun.”

  “Christo is the new don, so you don’t get a say. His word is law.”

  “No, Nino should be the don. He’s a good man, whereas Christo’s evil.”

  “Nino has no balls; he almost pissed himself when Christo threatened him. And Christo has claimed the title, so he’s the don, and when he passes away I’ll take over.”

  She burst out laughing. “As if anyone will agree to that.”

  “Christo will help me set it up; he already said he wants me to be his successor.”

  “Is that why you’re handing Jagger over to him?”

  “No, I’m doing it because Jagger stole my lover.”

  “But you’re gay and he isn’t.”

  “My lover wanted him.” I frowned, knowing that Jagger hadn’t wanted Alberto back.

  “That’s not cutie-pie’s fault.”

  “Stop calling him cutie-pie, pie-hole is closer to the mark.”

  Dora hit my arm. “You’re such a poor loser.”

  “I’m not a loser. He’s just a greedy bastard who needs his face sliced up so he doesn’t go round stealing other people’s boyfriends.”

  “He’s not gay, Matty, so stop being unreasonable.”

  “How would you know he’s not gay? And I’m not being unreasonable.”

  “You are too, and I know he’s not gay because I’ve seen him with women.”

  “I was married, so that doesn’t mean shit, and I’m still going to torture him to find out who killed Alberto.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “Christo can then.”

  “No, Christo will kill him. Take him to my house. I’ll get the information without getting him hurt more.”

  “You’re too soft.”

  “I’ll still be more effective than Christo. I’ll get the information out of Jagger without him even knowing it. Though, he can’t see you, otherwise he’ll know I’m a Donatelli.”

  “What will I tell the others?”

  “Did you succeed in getting the Landi sister to come to the party?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then tell Christo that, which is what you planned on doing anyway.”

  “Okay.”

  “Buono. I’ll take your car, while you take a taxi back.”

  “So, how long do you need?”

  “A couple days.”

  “Okay.” I handed over the keys. “By the way, what happened with that hot soldier?”

  “He almost broke my wrist and finger. I pricked him with the ring, but he was too fast. He grabbed my hand and ripped the ring off my finger, then pushed me up against the wall, demanding to know who I was. Luckily, the bouncer came to my defense, and attacked him. The soldier floored him, then started clawing at his eyes, saying he couldn’t see. I took off out of there fast. He was scary as hell, totally lost my lady boner over him.”

  “Lady boner? You sound just like an American.” I took her hand and kissed where the brute had ripped the ring
off, the skin looking red and sore. “I’ll give him an ass whooping if he shows tomorrow.”

  She smiled. “My brother in shining armor.”

  I grinned wide, then gave her a farewell kiss on the cheek. “Adios, Dora.”

  “It’s ciao!”

  “Nope, it’s adios for my Dora the Explorer.”

  She shook her head. “You are impossible.”

  “No, I’m perfect.” I walked off, trusting her to watch Jagger. Dora always came through for me. She would find out who murdered Alberto, then I would hand Jagger over to the Padre, and kill the murdering bastard who’d taken my lover from me. And anyway, I didn’t really want to take Jagger back to the house tonight, because Christo would probably cancel the ambush party, and I really wanted to meet that soldier. Yeah, fuck it, if the Padre could have Thierry and Jagger, then the Landi soldier was mine for the taking.

  Episode 8 Coming Soon

  About the Author

  Marita A. Hansen is from New Zealand. She loves writing, creating art, watching and participating in football, and running. She ran her first marathon in 2012 and is now planning on completing many more. For more information on Marita check out these links:

  Author Facebook Page:

  https://www.facebook.com/pages/Marita-A-Hansen/113130742120676

  My Masters’ Nightmare Facebook Page:

  https://www.facebook.com/pages/My-Masters-Nightmare/167338690126962

  Blog Site:

  http://maritaahansen.blogspot.co.nz/

  Goodreads’ Author Page:

  http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5129673.Marita_A_Hansen

  Artslant Page:

  http://www.artslant.com/global/artists/show/74433-marita-hansen

  Twitter Name: @MaritaAHansen

  Other books by Marita A. Hansen

  Behind the Hood

  Graffiti Heaven

  Behind the Tears

  Behind the Lens

  Don’t Peek (The Diaries of a Teenage Girl)

  My Masters’ Nightmare Season 1, Episode 1 “Taken”

  My Masters’ Nightmare Season 1, Episode 2 “Discovered”

  My Masters’ Nightmare Season 1, Episode 3 “Betrayed”

  My Masters’ Nightmare Season 1, Episode 4 “Poisoned”

  My Masters’ Nightmare Season 1, Episode 5 “Escape”

  My Masters’ Nightmare Season 1, Episode 1-5 (The My Masters’ Nightmare Collection)

  My Masters’ Nightmare Season 1, Episode 6 “Consequences”