Warlord Metal (27 page)

Jordan watched in silence, a hidden war raging within her soul. She wanted so badly, needed Sonny so much. But she didn't know why she needed and wanted. The guitarist just knew that it made her weak and vulnerable. The unknowing power the teenager welded over her was distressing. The voices screamed and argued and bickered back and forth until the quiet one was drowned out.

All she knew was that the loneliness of her room was intolerable. And she found herself drawn to Sonny's room. I need a distraction. Jordan considered asking her lover along but decided against it. We're too close already. I need to put some distance between us.

Rising, she smiled at Sonny and walked to the door. "I'll see ya later, sexy."

A brief moment of panic hit the teenager. "Wait!" She thought rapidly as her lover turned back to her, curiosity on her pretty face. "Uh, where ya going? You want some company?" she finally asked, attempting to sound nonchalant.

Despite her initial desire for the dark woman's company, Jordan shook her head with a rueful grin. "Naw. I'm not going anyplace in particular. Just out tom cattin' it around."

Sonny swallowed. "Oh."

The redhead stomped down the pain at her lover's crestfallen face. Yer doing her a favor, Horny Jordie! "Later." She turned away.

The phone rang on the nightstand. As the guitarist sauntered out the door, Sonny picked it up. "Hello? Oh. Yeah, hold on." She held the receiver close to her chest and called, "Jordan!"

"Yeah?" came from the hallway.

"It's for you. It's White Horse."

Jordan stepped back into the room. "Thanks," and took the receiver. "Hello? Yes. Really? Why?" Puzzlement became grimness. "I see. Alright. I'll be there." She hung up the phone.

"What's up?" Sonny asked, concerned at the mood change.

The redhead glanced sharply at her, almost surprised to see her still there. "Uh...." She shrugged. "I have a meeting with some lawyers tomorrow." She moved to the door again.

"But... why? Did they give you a reason?"

The mask that was never far away was back in place. Bored emerald eyes looked at the teenager. "Someone's filing a civil lawsuit against me and the lawyers wanna go over it before I get a subpoena."

Dark brows furrowed together. "A lawsuit? Whatever for?" She watched her lover shrug her shoulders and leave the room. "Jordan?"

Sept 22, 2002

Well, the tour's over and we're back home. I'm too late to register for fall semester, so I'm going to go back to work at my old job until December.

It felt strange to be back. We've all changed, I think, everybody in the band and myself. It was pretty awkward with Jordan this afternoon. I think she just wanted company when she came in. Why else would she have come up to my room? And then she pulled away from me - same ol' same ol'.

I really love her. But, I've been too scared to tell her about it. I know she'll run away when she finds out. She's got it in her head that she doesn't deserve love - and until she decides different, she won't accept it from anybody. Not even me.

But, I can't go on much longer like this. She's destroying herself with the drugs and alcohol. I can't talk to her, not about the things that are really important to me. I feel kinda selfish for saying this, but I don't deserve this kind of relationship. I know that telling her my feelings is going to cause her to bail on me, but I have to tell her before I explode!

And when she's gone, I'll always remember her and love her anyway. I just hope that somebody somewhere will be able to get through to her, get her to see she's not a bad person.

I was planning on telling her tonight, but she took off after that call from White Horse. When Tom got back from the store, I put him up to calling them back and digging for some information.

When Jordan was a kid, she apparently was involved in some big incident with a grown up. She had lots of charges put on her - assault, battery, possession and usage of illegal substances. Even attempted murder! But, then all the charges were dropped. Well, now that she's gotten famous and has some money, the family of this shadowy victim has come forward and slapped a civil suit down to get some cash.

So, until we find out exactly what's going to be happening, I'm gonna keep my mouth shut. If this is as serious as the lawyers are making it sound, she'll need all the support she can get. And if I say anything, she might just disappear. That won't help the situation.

Jordan came home drunk. I don't think she's had any drugs. She usually goes for the stimulants and the alcohol doesn't even touch her when she's flying. She went right to sleep tonight, though, which is why I think she stayed away from the stuff. I'm watching her sleep as I write this.

Once this mess is cleared up with the civil suit, I'll tell her. I have to. Or else I'm going to go crazy from this inability to share with her.

Will it Bleed

Sevendust

confusion, obsession,

rage inside of me.

will it ever, can it ever, will it ever take me?

chorus

i'd rather kill myself than put you through the pain again.

i'd rather kill myself than put you through the pain.

i'd rather kill myself than put you through the pain again.

i'd rather kill myself than put you through the pain. impression, find direction,

hate inside of me.

will it ever, can it ever, will it ever take me?

chorus

I'd rather kill myself.

I'd rather kill myself.

chorus

Chapter 8

Vicious Truth

My Empty Room

Queensryche

Empty room today,

And here I sit -Chalk outline upon the wall.

I remember tracing it

A thousand times the night she died.

Why? Why?

There's no sleep today,

I can't pretend

When all my dreams are crimes.

I can't stand facing them.

Now who will come

To wash away my sins,

Clean my room, fix my meals,

Be my friend?

1997

The techno-goth music was loud, the bass causing her eardrums to vibrate as she moved through the crowd of teenagers and adults towards the bar. Jordan's only concession to the gothic nature of the club was the jet black hair. Her clothes, of course, were all black as befitted a heavy metal aficionado, her naturally light skin seeming to glow against the dark backdrop. She was all of fourteen, having just had her birthday three weeks prior.

Jordan sidled up to the bar and ordered a soda. It arrived and she paid for it with the last of her cash. Better pick something up, Jordie, or yer gonna be in some serious pain. She took a sip from the straw before turning to size up the crowd as she leaned against the bar.

The club's interior was painted black, floor to ceiling and wall to wall. Every shiny surface was chrome and chain and mirror. Behind the bar, the mirror was etched with an intricate design of fake cobwebs. The few wall sconces holding dim lights looked like brushed silver, gleaming dully.

It was a standard Friday night, the mix of minors and adults about equal at the Erato Nightclub. To her right was the dance floor, a mass of people moving as one to the beat of a Joy Division song. On the left and before her were tables and chairs, filled to capacity. There were plenty of people who appeared attached, groups of twos and threes sprinkled throughout the establishment - runaways escaping the chill of winter, school kids trying to be risqué. There was even one massive group of about ten laughing uproariously at a table in the back corner. However, a few others could be seen - adults sitting alone, scanning the crowds, cruising, searching. Hunting.

As was she.

Warming up some from the heat of the collective crowd, Jordan unzipped her thin, corduroy jacket and removed it, revealing a cropped tank top and little else. She sighed in relief as the material was removed from her arm. She'd just gotten the tattoo finished a few days ago and the abrasive cloth brushing against it had been agony. Her step-father, Louis, had paid for it - Lucifer - payment for a job well done. The teenager peered at her arm, the red eyes glaring back at her. Who sees who?

"Nice tatt," a voice commented from beside her.

Jordan looked up into grey eyes. "Thanks," she grinned. She allowed her vision to ramble up and down the woman beside her suggestively. "Just got it done last week."

The woman nodded. She appeared to flush a little at the frank gaze she received and she tucked her dark brown hair behind her ear. "Mind if I...?" she asked, reaching out towards the tattoo.

"No. Go ahead. It's still a little tender, but it's healing up fine." The woman slipped a long hand around her upper arm and Jordan could feel the backs of the woman's knuckles brushing the side of her breast. As the woman appeared to study the colored skin, the teenager studied her.

She appeared to be in her mid twenties, dressed in gothic clothing as everyone else. A long black skirt, slit up the side, revealed dark stockings and long legs. The white ruffled collar of her shirt was opened to her bosom, the black leather collar gleaming in the lights of the club. A leather cuff adorned her right wrist, an intricate silver bracelet on her left. There was a delicate chain connecting the bracelet to a ring on her finger.

Cuff, collar and a slave bracelet.... Looks like ya got a custy, Horny Jordie! To test her theory, Jordan's presence seemed to fill the immediate area. Her confidence made it appear that she was towering over the woman who was actually the taller of the two.

In response, the woman seemed to shrink away. But she didn't release her grip on Jordan's arm. Rather, her thumb moved slowly in teasing circles, just on the edge of the irritated flesh. Grey eyes peered at her, gauging.

Bingo! Play your cards right, Jordie, and Lucifer'll leave ya alone tonight! Her voice pitched low, the teenager asked, "Like what you see?"

The woman blushed again, dropping her gaze.

"Don't look away when I'm talking to you."

Grey eyes snapped back to the youth. The woman swallowed nervously, but there was another light in her gaze. Imperceptibly, her breathing rate increased.

Jordan kept her mask on, a sovereign authority that made people believe she was far older than she was. "You didn't answer my question," she said with a raised brow. "I don't like to repeat myself."

The ruby lips parted and a whispered, "Yes," was uttered.

Nodding thoughtfully, the teenager reached to her side and picked up her drink. She took a long swallow of the soda, foregoing the straw, her emerald eyes never leaving the woman before her. Jordan set the glass back down and reached for the woman's free hand, drawing it towards her mouth. Cold lips pressed into the woman's palm and the teenager watched her prey's eyes flutter closed. She stepped closer, those same cold lips lightly brushing an ear. "How badly do you want it?" she asked.

The woman shivered, her hand clutching Jordan's arm, but didn't answer.

Deciding to let it slide for now, the teenager pulled back a bit. She moved her arm from the woman's grasp and slowly slid onto her barstool. "Maybe you should tell me what you want. And then I'll tell you what I want." Give it to me, babe.

For a few moments, the woman stood still, apparently debating with herself. Chewing her lower lip, her dark brows furrowed in thought, she drifted closer to the regal teenager, a moth to flame. But still she was silent.

Jordan sighed in exasperation. Time's a wastin', Horny Jordie. Either shit or get off the pot. "You don't do this very often, do you?" she finally observed. At the woman's headshake, she pursed her lips. "Here's the deal, babe. This is the negotiation phase - you tell me what you want and we see if we can work out a... compatible transaction."

"I understand," the woman said, her voice low and her skin flushed.

"And what you want is...?"

There was a long pause. "You," she eventually responded. Her following words were in a rush, as if she was fighting to get them out before she lost her nerve. "I want you to... um... be in charge, to force me." Grey eyes looked away, her face crimson, the voice lowered in shame. "To have your way with me."

Fingers touched the woman's chin, guided her head back around to look at the teenager. Is she a candidate? "What are the limits?" Jordan asked.

The woman looked slightly surprised. "No limits."

Emerald eyes widened. Ahhh, the night is good. "No limits?" The eyes narrowed and wandered over the woman again. No wonder she's so submissive. "Public sex? Showers? Scat? Bleeding? No limits on any of it?" She doesn't look like a kid, though. Twenty-something?

The dark head shook. "No limits on any of it."

Jordan inhaled deeply and tried to puzzle this person out. She'd been hooking for Louis for about four months. Usually, she brought him home money, though he was always on the lookout for new 'adventures' as he called it. The teenager had only found one person in that time who was willing to roll over and accept whatever another could dish out, regardless of the dangers and consequences. And those were the only kind that her step father would accept. Her mind shied away from the memories of that last encounter. "What about safe words?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

"No safe word. I can take whatever you've got."

An eyebrow raised at the subtle challenge. Got a live one here, Jordie! a voice crowed. Tonight had been a tough night. She hadn't made much money and Louis was waiting at home. A whisper deep inside said, Don't do it. She doesn't deserve it. Jordan stomped the voice down. It'd never done her any good when she was a kid; it wouldn't help her now. She turned her gaze to the bar crowd, appearing aloof as she scanned the patrons. "You got a car?"