‹ Prequel: Devil
Carnage
Say A Prayer
“What’s the worst that could happen?”
“You don’t want to know.”
--
The worst beating she had ever taken at the hands of Tony had been on her birthday. She had only recently been sent to London, but her and The Kid had taken to each other already. The infraction has long since been forgotten, but not the results. Two broken ribs, a punctured lung, a broken nose, two black eyes, a concussion, and four broken fingers. She suffered through all of it in silence, because he expected it of her.
He paid the nurses in hospital, of course. She stayed for two days until she was stable, and only saw the nurses he approved of. She didn't belong to him anymore, but that didn't stop him from watching her. After nearly a month of hospital visits, Nebraska Jones met Charlie the Scouser, an expert seller, and The Kid's first and only straight girl. Like The Kid, Charlie had a lot to prove. Which made her the best pusher, and a formidable enforcer.
She watched their interactions, and when the time was right, stole Nebraska away before the sun had a chance to rise. She woke up in Charlie's apartment, disoriented and still groggy from the concussion Tony had given her.
"My name's Charlie," the other, older girl had said. "You shouldn't let that bloke treat you like that."
"It's fine," Nebraska responded from the carpeted floor. "I'm used to it."
"So's he. Doesn't mean it's not wrong. Why don't you fight back?"
Nebraska shrugged.
"What's the worst that could happen?"
"He'd kill me." The rhetoric was too familiar to Nebraska to mean anything. She'd repeated those words to herself thousands of times, but they no longer held weight. He could kill her if she fought back or not. Ethan was the prime example of that. She'd shuddered involuntarily at the thought.
"So kill him first."
Charlie became the closest she had to a best friend.
When Tony pulled her aside after another long night with The Kid, Nebraska Jones was ready.
"The two of you looked cozy," he said, ready for her apology.
"Jealous?"
He backhanded her with a flick of his wrist, sending her a couple of steps backward. She walked back to her place in front of him, trembling.
"I'll take that as a yes."
His eyes burned with hatred, which shocked her. All those times he'd said that he loved her weren't true, of course, no matter how much she wanted them to be, but hate was a little strong. He grabbed her by the back of her hair, bringing her very close to his face.
"Don't you remember what happened the last time you fought back? I own you, don't ever forget that."
He let her go, pushing her out into the night. Then, he seemed to think better of it, and grabbed her arm, slamming her into the brick wall of the house the rave had taken place in. Charlie had prepared her for that, storing a tire iron in the grass just in case.
She hit him with such force that she may have fractured his skull.
"Put me in my place," she taunted his unconscious form. She stood over him, her heel on his chest, to survey the damage. Nothing too permanent. She didn't know whether to be thankful or not.
Charlie left the operation a few weeks later, having gained a foothold in the French market, which was easier to get into, though not quite as lucrative. But Nebraska kept her teachings, and always hit back whenever Tony struck her.
By the time she had been with The Kid six months, Tony had given up on her altogether, and finally just gave her to The Kid as a birthday present. She behaved much better around him anyway.
Soon after that, The Kid bought his first property, an old pub that he planned to turn into a nightclub. Surprisingly, it worked, and Nebraska found herself as the primary girl of the club.
This job wasn't without its pitfalls. Numerous customers had tried to hit on her, and when she turned them down, some got violent. Nebraska had her tricks, though. Several of the aggressive ones walked away with very deep cigarette burns that permanently marked them as offenders. She was particularly fond of that one. Still today, these scars are present, and a good way to tell which people had been there from the beginning. It stands as an even better indicator of her own intolerance for violence, a lesson that she learned to enforce very early on in customers' relationships with The Kid's clubs.
Nebraska Jones had arrived in her own right.
“You don’t want to know.”
--
The worst beating she had ever taken at the hands of Tony had been on her birthday. She had only recently been sent to London, but her and The Kid had taken to each other already. The infraction has long since been forgotten, but not the results. Two broken ribs, a punctured lung, a broken nose, two black eyes, a concussion, and four broken fingers. She suffered through all of it in silence, because he expected it of her.
He paid the nurses in hospital, of course. She stayed for two days until she was stable, and only saw the nurses he approved of. She didn't belong to him anymore, but that didn't stop him from watching her. After nearly a month of hospital visits, Nebraska Jones met Charlie the Scouser, an expert seller, and The Kid's first and only straight girl. Like The Kid, Charlie had a lot to prove. Which made her the best pusher, and a formidable enforcer.
She watched their interactions, and when the time was right, stole Nebraska away before the sun had a chance to rise. She woke up in Charlie's apartment, disoriented and still groggy from the concussion Tony had given her.
"My name's Charlie," the other, older girl had said. "You shouldn't let that bloke treat you like that."
"It's fine," Nebraska responded from the carpeted floor. "I'm used to it."
"So's he. Doesn't mean it's not wrong. Why don't you fight back?"
Nebraska shrugged.
"What's the worst that could happen?"
"He'd kill me." The rhetoric was too familiar to Nebraska to mean anything. She'd repeated those words to herself thousands of times, but they no longer held weight. He could kill her if she fought back or not. Ethan was the prime example of that. She'd shuddered involuntarily at the thought.
"So kill him first."
Charlie became the closest she had to a best friend.
When Tony pulled her aside after another long night with The Kid, Nebraska Jones was ready.
"The two of you looked cozy," he said, ready for her apology.
"Jealous?"
He backhanded her with a flick of his wrist, sending her a couple of steps backward. She walked back to her place in front of him, trembling.
"I'll take that as a yes."
His eyes burned with hatred, which shocked her. All those times he'd said that he loved her weren't true, of course, no matter how much she wanted them to be, but hate was a little strong. He grabbed her by the back of her hair, bringing her very close to his face.
"Don't you remember what happened the last time you fought back? I own you, don't ever forget that."
He let her go, pushing her out into the night. Then, he seemed to think better of it, and grabbed her arm, slamming her into the brick wall of the house the rave had taken place in. Charlie had prepared her for that, storing a tire iron in the grass just in case.
She hit him with such force that she may have fractured his skull.
"Put me in my place," she taunted his unconscious form. She stood over him, her heel on his chest, to survey the damage. Nothing too permanent. She didn't know whether to be thankful or not.
Charlie left the operation a few weeks later, having gained a foothold in the French market, which was easier to get into, though not quite as lucrative. But Nebraska kept her teachings, and always hit back whenever Tony struck her.
By the time she had been with The Kid six months, Tony had given up on her altogether, and finally just gave her to The Kid as a birthday present. She behaved much better around him anyway.
Soon after that, The Kid bought his first property, an old pub that he planned to turn into a nightclub. Surprisingly, it worked, and Nebraska found herself as the primary girl of the club.
This job wasn't without its pitfalls. Numerous customers had tried to hit on her, and when she turned them down, some got violent. Nebraska had her tricks, though. Several of the aggressive ones walked away with very deep cigarette burns that permanently marked them as offenders. She was particularly fond of that one. Still today, these scars are present, and a good way to tell which people had been there from the beginning. It stands as an even better indicator of her own intolerance for violence, a lesson that she learned to enforce very early on in customers' relationships with The Kid's clubs.
Nebraska Jones had arrived in her own right.