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Falynn

PLAYLIST: ? #1 CRUSH - GARBAGE ?

One month later…

Mom was wrong about a lot of things growing up. She was wrong about the men she picked. She was wrong about the unsafe environment she put me in. She was wrong the time she refused to believe me when her boyfriend took advantage of me. But there was one thing she got right. One kernel of truth she clued me in on from a young age.

Life comes at you fast.

Sometimes, so fast you barely know what’s happened. You blink and next thing you know, everything around you has changed.

It’s one of those nights as I pull into my assigned parking space. I flick off my headlights and switch off the ignition and blow a sigh of relief I’m finally home. Even if it’s a place I’ve only called home for the last three and a half weeks.

The parking lot is empty and silent. Every window in the high-rise apartment building is dark. With my giant tote bag slung over my shoulder and keys in hand, I hurry across the lot. I stop only once I’ve reached the elevators.

The elevator jostles me up to the eighth floor. My feet are aching and I’m counting down the seconds ’til I get to take this damn bra off. It’s been another long night at Club Diamond, but I’m settling in more and more each shift. The elevator dings once it reaches my floor. I have my keys ready by the time I stop in front of my apartment.

I have a whole checklist of things to do as soon as I’m home.

Flick on the lights. Check. Lock the door. Check.Verifyit’s locked correctly, then set down my stuff on the kitchen island. Check and check. Kick off my shoes and unhook my bra. Another check and check. I’m on step seven, charge my phone, when it pings in my hand.

Missed call from an unknown number. I’ve been getting a lot of those lately. The number’s only been mine for a couple weeks. When I called up the phone company and asked about the weird calls, they assured me it’s residual contacts from the last person who had the number.

I’m not so sure I believe them.

These days, the slightest thing out of the ordinary makes me jump. The knots in my stomach, which are always present now, twist into a tighter ball. Can you blame me? It seems like I’m fated to be the woman on the ID channel that you hear about. Youknowthe one—she ran away from some psycho ex, tried to start a new life, and then ended up dead anyway.

Except my ex happens to be a high-ranking member of the Sorrentino crime family.

Which is about ten times worse.

I inhale a calming breath and shake away the paranoia. Robby promised me a life of solitude. A completely new start. While the amount of funds he gave me doesn’t compare to what I anticipate Gio was offering, it’s been enough to snag me a nice apartment and a car for getting around Miami.

Why Miami, you ask?

I don’t know. Robby told me to leave the country. He gave me a fake ID, passport, and all the other documents I needed for a new identity. But after escaping Gio’s, as I sat at the airport and awaited my one-way flight to Montenegro, I couldn’t do it. What was I going to do once I got there? Who did I know? How would I survive once Robby’s cash ran thin?

So, instead, I bought a ticket to Miami. The fake documents for my new identity have come in handy renting a place and even getting a job. I couldn’t not have one. Not if I wanted to keep most of the money Robby gave me as a nest egg for a rainy day. Besides, Miami has plenty of strip clubs, and it’s the only vocation I have real experience in besides waitressing.

I connect my phone to the charger and move down the hall into my bedroom. Between settling in and starting at Club Diamond, I haven’t had much time to decorate, but I’ve managed to put a personal touch here and there, mostly in the soft pink and white color scheme.

A shower and a change into pajamas later, I emerge a lot less on edge. Then I move to check on my phone and see another missed call from an unknown number. My belly roils like I’ve missed a step going down the stairs. The hardest part of this new life is the hours dead in the night. When I return from my shift at Club Diamond and before I’m able to fall asleep. A few times I’ve stayed out all night just to avoid the odd hour.

Right now, as unnerved as I am, I crave a voice. Something familiar that can set me at ease. The problem is, when you abandon your old life, you’re not supposed to contact anyone you knew. I’ve made good on that promise.

’Til now.

I rack my brain for options. The only reasonable one is Tasha. It’s Wednesday night, and I’m three hours ahead, which means she’s probably starting her shift soon.

Just this once.

It takes a couple minutes, but I call up the Dollhouse using a Google Voice number (in an attempt to protect my own), and I ask the girl working the phones for Tasha. She pops her gum and tells me to hold on a second.

“Hello?”

“Tasha?”

There’s an uncertain pause. “This can’t be…Falynn?”

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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