Will Lola be able to save herself this time? Please let me know your theories in the comments, and don't forget to drop those Gems.
Lola - on the Late Evening of Friday the 7th “Where the fuck have you been, Lola?” Nathan stutters reeking of booze. I’m stunned. I didn’t think I would see him so soon. I haven’t missed his treatment or possessive behavior as he swings me around to face him. “That’s none of your fucking business, Nathan. We broke up, remember!” I move out of Nathan’s hold, under his arm like I was taught. But I was stupid and went in the wrong direction. Now I’m trapped between him and the stalls. I stare at Nathan, terrified of what he will do next. His nostrils are flaring, and the other fist flexes open and closed. “I’m talking to you,” Nathan’s hand comes up, blocking my path. “Leave me alone,” I demand, trying to push past him. “I don’t fucking think so, Lola,” Nathan snaps, He pushes me up against the nearest wall with a hard thud. My vision flashes, and there’s a ringing in my ears as he smacks me. I’m now pinned between him and the cold concrete, frozen stiff with fear as blood rushes
The cop car Nathan’s in isn’t far away, and he’s glaring at me. The look sends cold chills down my back as Damien helps me out of the ambulance. I pull him closer to feel safe, and the cruiser pulls away with Nathan, watching me kiss my savior. “Thank you, Damien, for saving me again,” I say as we hug. I never want to let him go, but he’s too quiet and stiff as Justine kisses me in his arms. She fawns over me tenderly, getting into the SUV. They are both acting overly protective and soft toward me. “My beautiful Lola, I love you, and I’m so sorry,” Justine cries while holding me. “I love you too, and there’s nothing for you to be sorry for. Nathan did this,” I say, with my voice grating and feeling like gravel. “Okay, no more talking till we get you to the doctor,” Justine says sternly. “What doctor?” I whisper, yet my voice cracks. “Lola, I love you, but shush now,” she says tenderly. Justine presses a finger to my lips to silence me. She shakes her head no more. I kiss her f
Damien - On the late evening of Friday, the 7th I stay quiet, staring at my knuckles most of the drive. They’re sore and bloody, but I don’t care, clenching the wheel tighter. Every time I glance back at Lola, I can’t help but feel like a failure. Justine holds no malice, but she also hasn’t looked at me. I know she’s more concerned for Lola, but I feel her guilt and shame from here. I let my guard down. I should have taken her to Thackery’s office or returned to VIP. But because we were downstairs already, I went to the closest restroom. I never once thought he would be there, but I should have; I’m fucking slipping. At Gio’s, it takes everything I have not to break when holding Lola again. Her broken voice is thanking me, but those darkened eyes mean I’m a letdown. I’m unworthy of her sweet kiss and swallow back my sobs. Leaving her with Gio, I parted from them quickly. Seeing Markum in the parlor, he hands me a drink, and I down it all. I take the decanter and fill the glass ag
Justine - on the early morning of Saturday, the 8th Helping Gio with Lola has me spinning inside. I should have left when she said. Because I didn’t, she got hurt again and now looks worse. I hate that bruises now litter her beautiful face and body. Lola’s neck is the worst, all purple and green. I enjoy a sensual choke-out, but this was attempted murder. I push that aside and tenderly care for Lola, so I don’t lash out. I dress her, making sure Lola is comfortable and warm. I want to kiss her everywhere like I promised, but that’s not for tonight. Right now, she needs a doctor. Lola is surprisingly calm during the long exam, and it scares me. She only cries when Markum enters, breaking me inside—feeling like she failed them and their training. I felt the same way when my ex-husband raped me. I was powerless to stop him. I’m just glad Nathan didn’t get that far. We all reassured her that this wasn’t her fault. Nathan would have done this if she were at home with him too. Fuck, th
Lola - Monday the 10th The pain radiates in my body, pulsing to the memories flooding my slumber. I’m stuck in an endless loop reliving the moment Nathan choked me to an inch of my life. I can’t fight, powerless to move or shake my attacker off me. I wake up panicked and feeling claustrophobic. There’s a weird mask blasting me with cold air, and I rip it off. Through bleary eyes, I see fire-red hair and calm down. “Lola, please relax,” Justine is here, and I know I’m safe. She helps me go to the bathroom and drink some water. When done, I put the mask back on, and she asked me to breathe. I do as told, deeply inhaling and falling back to sleep repeatedly. What feels like hours of the same tortuous agony plagued by a face I no longer want to see. Unable to rest any longer, I wake again in a huff. I’m unsure where I am as the room comes into focus, and then I remember we’re at Gio’s spa. I look to Justine, who is rubbing her eyes. “How long have I been asleep?” I ask weakly, takin
Tuesday the 11th “Lola, I made you a smoothie for breakfast,” Justine says after my shower. “Thanks,” I mouth, and she kisses my temple. She treats my skin, making me feel beautiful despite the bruises, while the cool drink soothes my throat. It is delicious. However, it still hurts to swallow. I put on my brave face and gulp through the pain like yesterday. “How about we stay in bed today and play board games,” Justine offers, pulling out a chess board. A game day with her does sound fun, and I love playing chess. But as the morning went on, we changed over to cards. She kicked my ass at poker. So I challenged her to war and won. “Well, it looks like I owe the victory some spoils,” Justine says after my third win. At lunch, Gio brings the boutique to us per Justine’s request. He had a little bit of everything displayed on a garment rack. We picked out several beautiful scarves, two pairs of sunglasses, and a lovely silk pillow decorated with kisses. I didn’t want to try on the
Nathan - on Friday, the 14th I’ve been in jail for a week now. Pacing this tiny cell is complete agony. The scene from the club keeps repeating in my head, thinking about Lola and her new dick. The memory of her kissing that asshole has my knuckles torn apart from hitting the dinghy gray walls, pretending it’s his face. That Damien douche came out of nowhere both times to sucker punch me. When I get out of here, I’ll be paying him back. I’m still bruised from that night but halfway to healing. No one makes a fool of me and steals my girl. She’ll suffer soon enough; bitch will learn not to disrespect me again. “Inmates, it’s visiting time,” a guard yells down the hall. Perfect timing; I need to get out and stretch my legs. The cells are unlocked, and everyone lines up on the yellow line. We walk in unison through several barred doors to the visiting area. This stark white room is now filled with burly men in orange jumpsuits. Most take a seat at the round silver tables with their
Lola - On the morning of Saturday, the 15th This week has passed in a blur. I still haven’t seen Damien since we arrived, which breaks my heart. I’ve been distracted by everyone paying close attention to me and caring for my needs. I’m fed up with it all and finally break my silence. “Justine, where’s Damien?” I whisper after breakfast. “Do you need Markum, sweetheart? I’ll call him,” she offers, picking up her phone. I furrow my brows at her response and ask again. She only avoids my eyes, texting. All week they have been deflecting this question. I pluck the phone from her hands and toss it to the side. I’m getting answers one way or another. “Did you fire Damien? Is that why we have Markum now?” I ask, staring at her dead in the face. “No, Lola, I would never do that,” she says, defeated. “Then where is he?” I squeak. “I promise he’ll be back soon,” she says while getting up to hold me. “You said that days ago, Justine,” pulling away from her gently. “And I meant it, Lola.