Chapter 3 - The Baby
Three Weeks Later...
As I sit here inside of Justin's establishment, watching Justin do what he's good at - ordering people around - I can't help but drift back to the day I told him I was pregnant with Courtney. He literally threw a fit. I don't know - the past few weeks have been hard. He's actually preventing me from seeing my daughter. God, I want to stab him so much. He's so unfair.
When Rachel brought Courtney back the next day, he literally told her I didn't deserve to see my own child because I disobeyed him as he liked to call it. Now, usually I'm dead on snapping at the mouth but for some strange reason unbeknownst to me, I remained calm and allowed him to have his way. Rachel spoke up for the first time since I've known her these past eight years stating Justin had no right and she didn't dig the idea of taking care of someone else's child.
Of course Justin cornered her at the entrance of his house, threatening her and stating that she didn't have a choice since the ‘bastard' was his too. He even sweetened it by saying I couldn't be distracted by the likes of my child since I had to work and he's sure my daughter would hate me if she knew what I was - what my job was. I'm telling you, that knife I was holding in my hand at the time pealing an orange was looking mighty appealing when my homicidal instincts kicked in - craving to see the sharp object pierce his back and watch as he fell helpless on the floor.
You see what I'm dealing with? Justin only claimed Courtney as his own to get Rachel off his back. I know for a fact he doesn't want anything to do with my baby. And, Rachel couldn't argue too much because Justin is the one taking care of her since she works for him as one of the makeup artists/hair stylists for us entertainers among other things. Ugh.
....Flashback...
Staggering into my bedroom, I plop down on the cushiony mattress as tears fill my eyes clouding my vision. "Oh god what am I going to do?" I cry in my palms, terrified of what Justin might do if he found out...
"Do about what?"
Speak of the devil.
Seating up, I watch as Justin strolls in with a shot glass in hand. Throwing back the alcoholic substance, he cringes then wipes at his lips before he sits next to me on my bed, watching me closely, studying my body language while messing with his Sinatra t-shirt. "So how was the visit to the doctor?" he enquires and I freeze. He only sent me to the doctor because I was always sick and throwing up. He told me if I had a bug, he didn't want me spreading it to the other girls. Sadly, that's as deep as his caring goes.
Justin instantly picks up on my uneasiness and stands to his feet, hovering - still eyeing me.
"Uh..." Pulling on my red cotton dress, I shut my eyes when he grabs my arm and forcefully yanks me up to stand.
"I asked you a question Diane. Don't make me beat it out of you." He threatens - his voice low and sharp as he breathes against my skin.
"Well, I...I'm..."
"Are you dying?" Justin raises his brows in question and I quickly shake my head no. "Then spit it the fuck out woman!" He raises his voice, tightening his grip on my arm.
"I'm pregnant." I mutter, watching as his face falls, his breath hitching in his throat as he pierces me with his gaze. I think he's in shock or maybe he's trying to deal with the anger that's slowly rising in his system. God, he's going to kill me, I just know it.
"What?" He inquires disbelievingly.
"I said I'm..."
"I fucking heard you!" Justin yells, cutting me off. "How the fuck did this happen?" He snaps, letting me go and beginning to pace.
Yeah we both know how that happened, I mean seriously.
"I...I'm sorry. I guess the birth control pills didn't work..." knowing damn well I forgot to take them on schedule because of how swamped we've been lately. I guess I'm paying the consequences now.
Snapping his head in my direction, Justin stops pacing and just glares at me. "Bullshit Di. Bullshit! You had one of my fucking clients fuck you without protection?" He inquires incredulously, his eyes widening as he storms over to me. "Are you fucking insane?!" Justin screams, grabbing my shoulders and shaking me violently.
All I can do right now is cower in fear because I just know he's pissed beyond comprehension. Anything I say could set him off and oh god, I don't want...
"You stupid bitch! You stupid, stupid slut! How could you break the rules?! Are you looking to get a fucking disease or something?" Justin yells, still shaking me pugnaciously. "Who Diane? Who fucking knocked you up? You tell me; I'll kill the fucking bitch for not following my orders..."
"I didn't break the rules." I choke out through his manhandling.
"What?"
"The baby is yours Justin. You're the only one I..." But he instantly silences me by shoving me backwards.
"Are you nuts?" He asks coarsely, lunging at me and gripping my neck tightly. "You're not pinning this on me Diane. You fucking bitch!" He snaps, smacking me hard across the cheek for effect. "You stupid...fuck!" Justin bawls, gripping my red dress and hauling me out of the room. "Do you know what this means? You won't be able to perform for almost a fucking year!" He continues on his rant but I don't care about that. I'm still holding my cheek, too frightened to say anything.
As he makes his way down his winding staircase with me in his grasp, I say a silent prayer that he doesn't ask me to do what I think...
"Get rid of it." Oh no...oh no I was hoping he wouldn't say that.
"Justin..."
Stopping mid-step, he gives me an evil glare, challenging me to talk back to him. "You're getting rid of it. Come on, we're going to the doctor's." He states, pulling me down the stairs with him but I instantly begin fighting against his hold.
"No! I'm not killing my baby!" I scream, losing my balance and tripping over one of the stairs, my heels piercing the back of Justin's leg.
Hunching over in pain, Justin's cries echo through the spacious house as he grips the back of his leg rubbing the sore spot. I'm still on the stairs - face forward on my hands and knees - trying to get up when I feel a tug on my long brown locks.
"Ow!" I cry out as Justin swiftly picks me up by my hair.
"You ungrateful bitch!" he spits boisterously, his voice shaking with anger. "I'm so sick and tired of your fucking behind."
"I'm not killing my baby!" I retort, struggling in his hold as he fights to control my flailing arms.
"God would you stop!" Justin orders, trying to cease my fighting. I'll be damned if he drags me out of that front door. I'm not going to do it. This is the only good thing that has happened to me since I've been here and I won't let him rid me of that happiness. I deserve to be happy too. Even though this pregnancy was unexpected, maybe a baby is just what I need to turn my life around...
"Damn it! Fucking stop Diane!" Justin's shouts, his belligerent nature stunning me for a split second. His eyes are sparkling with rage and his breathing is shot - but I'm still trying to get out of his death grip not caring that my hair might be rooted out in the process. "Stupid fuck!"
And just like that, in slow motion, I feel my legs give way causing me to lose my balance as Justin jacks me ferociously out of his hold watching as my arms flail when I try to stand straight. Unfortunately, I quickly lose that battle when my heels slide over the marbled steps.
Screaming out, I reach for Justin but he backs away from me with a smirk on his face and all I can do is shut my eyes and let the inevitable happen.
In the blink of an eye, I feel myself falling backwards, tumbling, rolling down the flight of stairs as I bump and bruise every inch of my body.
Landing on the flat with a loud thud, an agonizing whimper escapes my lips as my eyes remain tightly shut.
I can feel my body on fire as I lay helpless on the floor.
It's not long before I hear footsteps from somewhere in the house...
"Oh my god! What happened?" I hear one of the girls cry out.
Then I hear his voice demanding that they return to their affairs. "She's fine. She just...slipped." He says, a light chortle escaping his lips. God, if I wasn't afraid to move for the simple fact that something might be broken, I'd kill him with my bare hands.
"Justin she's not waking up."
"We should take her to the hospital..."
But he cuts them off. "Don't you all have shit to do besides be a pain in my ass? Get out of here now!" His voice is fierce and relentless.
Then I hear them shuffling around, coming closer to me but, he snarls at them again and they quickly sprint off to a different location in his overly huge mansion.
I'm still there, breathing hard, fluttering my eyes open as I stare at the ceiling. Leaning forward, I cough rigorously when I feel a shooting pain through my abdomen. "Oh god..." I cry, my tears rapidly flowing down my cheeks as I clutch my stomach, my form aching and burning. I'm going to be black and blue no questions asked. I really do despise him and myself for ever putting up with his abusive ways.
My vision of the large crystal chandelier is instantly blocked off when Justin walks towards me, hovering with a malicious glow in his blues.
"For a split second I was hoping you'd be dead or maybe in a coma. That way I wouldn't have to deal with you. But, let's hope that did the trick and got rid of that little bastard growing inside of you. Get the fuck up and go clean yourself off. I can't be bothered with you right now; I have shit to do..."
Stepping over me, he lets out a low chuckle before I hear his retreating footsteps. I'm still just lying there, too numb to even budge. Resting my head back unto the marbled floor of the threshold, I blink a few times before I break out into a sobbing contest, too weak to even care that I can taste the slight tangy substance of blood smearing my lips...
........End of Flashback......
"Diane!"
Snapping out of my thoughts, I look over at Justin who's signaling for me to come up to where he's standing on the stage. Wiping at my eyes, I shake out the horrid memory I just had, realizing I could have died that day he pushed me down those flight of stairs. I guess I got lucky since we were already three quarters down - because I know for a fact, if I was shoved from the top, I'd be six feet under by now. It was partly my fault. I mean, I was fighting and clawing at him when he was trying to stop me. I was so stupid. Thank god nothing happened to my baby.
I actually suffered a bruised rib cage and fractured wrist which pissed Justin off even more because I couldn't perform for a few weeks. Right now, I'm just praying for any sign that will give me a passageway to freedom. I'm not sure how much more my body and soul can endure.
"Di did you not hear me calling you?"
You know, I wish he'd stop calling me that.
Lifting my head up from the bar, I down my drink as I stand to my feet, gazing at my surroundings. We're in the heart of Las Vegas where Justin's business is located. It's a two story building with bright neon lights at the front that reads "Justin's Girls - Exotic Dancers." Every night this place is swarming with males and a few females as everyone pays a lot of money to come here and see us perform on stage, stripping and dancing around a pole in next to nothing for their viewing pleasures.
It's your classic stripper joint but with a twist. You see, Justin is a business man. So, not only does this lavish house cater to everyone's fantasies from the various show themes we put on, but, he always keeps the bars stocked and he gives out free drinks every once in a while. He also provides a side business where clients can request their favorite girl to spend a night with living out their sexual fetishes once they're willing to cough up the dough. That's how I grew to be terrified of one of his clients named John who seems to be infatuated with me for some reason.
I blame Justin for that though. He's always pushed me in front of the other girls - bringing me out on stage with him at the end of the performances for the night, letting the public and his loyal customers know I'm the top girl around here. He always says "she's my best girl everyone, well worth the price," as he cracks jokes with his perverted counterparts.
I guess I was exactly what he was looking for. It turns out people dig the whole exotic vibes. I'm one of the few here who's mixed in race. I have some Spanish/Latin in me because of my mom's background and guys seem to be crazy over the whole ‘Spanish' fetish concept. Plus, it's hard to hide my heritage with my wide hips and bubble butt. Justin has definitely milked that. He even persuaded me to dye my hair a raven color and use my knowledge of the language on his clients. He's such an asshole.
You know, he wasn't always like this. When I first met Justin, he was decent. He still had a terrible temper but he never took it out on us - on me - like he has been these past few years. I guess his fame finally went to his head and he knows he's the shit so he doesn't take lightly to anyone who doesn't conform to his norm.
Unfortunately, this business has been in his family for decades. His grandfather was actually a good friend of Hugh Hefner - go figure, and Hugh helped him build this business. When Justin's granddad died, it was passed unto his father who later passed it on to him. The interesting part in all of this is: I found out a few years ago that Justin has a regular family outside of this. Of course they have no idea what kind of monster he is. He has a mother, siblings and other relatives that he's estranged himself from because he claimed they didn't understand him or supported the ‘Timberlake men' business empire. Rachel is the only one he keeps around. He is so full of it.
But well, I guess what I really would like to know is why he's always so angry all the time. I wish I knew the cause. It would definitely help in me knowing his weak spots so I could manipulate that for me to get the hell out of here...
"Diane!"
His voice is so annoying!
Stumbling back in terror, I gaze at Justin who's now standing mere inches away from me drinking from that stupid cup with his eyes glossed over in agitation.
"Where the fuck is your head today? I've been calling you for the past few minutes now. Look, I'm so not in the mood to whip you into shape right now. Get your ass on stage and show the prop guy where you want the bed and other props for our big show tomorrow night. Don't make me fucking tell you this again. I swear to god, I'll cripple you or maybe cut that fucking tongue of yours since you're always so quick to snap that trap of yours..." Justin hisses, taking a sip of his alcohol. I'm betting he's partly intoxicated by now. He's been drinking since we came in here this morning. It's late afternoon on a Thursday and if there is anything worse than angry Justin, it's intoxicated Justin.
I wonder if I could slip poison into his drink. I should really consider it. The only thing that's prevented me from plotting Justin's murder is Courtney. Whether he wants to accept it or not, I know she's his. I don't understand why he won't take a paternity test and end the speculation. She's the only tie and bond I have with him and I don't want her growing up without a father - as cruel, uncaring and heartless as he is - Justin is still her father and she has a right to at least know who he is.
Jesus...
Bowing my head, I nod timidly, trying to move around him to head for the stage before his next phrase catches me off guard.
"Tomorrow should be a cash filled night." He smirks, causing me to roll my eyes. "There's going to be my annual party at the mansion with my close friends, guests and you girls after the show tomorrow night. I decided to hold it at my place this year since business has been doing so well. A change in surroundings will be nice. But I'm only telling you this so you're on your best behavior and you don't piss me off. Do you hear me?" he speaks sternly.
Shaking my head, my browns gaze into his cold blues as he takes another sip of his drink still looking at me. Fiddling with his brown fedora hat he sighs at my lack of verbal reply.
"Cat's got your tongue now? No matter, you're better this way. I'll tell Rachel to bring Courtney over tomorrow but you better watch yourself with me..." Justin threatens, pointing his finger in my face.
"That's fine..." I murmur, desperately wanting him to dismiss me. If I'm right, he's probably getting drunk and I don't want to be around if for some reason he becomes unbearably horny or other. I can't deal with his roughness right now. Sex with him stopped being pleasurable a long time ago when he morphed into deranged Justin and never quite came off that high.
"Good, because JC's been asking about you and he will be there tomorrow night so be respectful to him because he's one of my top clients." Justin barks and I can't help the slight smile that plays across my lips.
I'm sure JC didn't tell him we spent the entire night just sitting and talking to each other when I met him some three or so weeks ago. I didn't learn too much about him then. He only mentioned that he's been living in Europe for some time and came down here to visit Justin and a few other friends and family. He's still very mysterious but it felt good to have someone interested in me as a person and not just for my body. I haven't seen Joshua since and I almost forgot about him, but knowing that he'll be at the show and after party tomorrow definitely lifts my spirits.
I'm wondering what kind of history he and Justin share. I mean how could someone as pleasant and kind as JC be mixed up with a sick twisted fuck like Justin? No matter - I'm just glad there's someone who isn't as insane as my provider.
Justin doesn't miss the cheeky grin on my face because he's frowning now but that doesn't stop me from smiling even wider.
"Why the fuck are you smiling?" Justin questions, grabbing my arm and leading me over to the stage were a few crew members are located, decorating and preparing for the show tomorrow night.
"I..."
"Just forget it. Get up there and help them. I need to head out for a few and take care of some business..."
Hearing him say that is definitely surprising and I spin around. A few hours without Justin? That's heaven! Please don't play with me on this...
"Where are you..." But I shut my mouth when his eyes widen.
"Just shut the hell up and get to work Diane. I'll be back soon." Justin quickly turns on his heels, gulping down the rest of his drink in his cup as he heads straight for the exit, leaving me and his crew alone to finish setting up for the show.
Well, I guess this is going to be good. I can't wait to see my baby tomorrow too. I've missed her so much.
However, before I can instruct the interior designer on what curtains to put up, the Spanish bartender named Ricardo quickly calls out to me.
"Yes Ricardo!" I answer over the music that's playing in here. Justin popped in his Sinatra CD earlier and had it playing on repeat lowly in the background.
"Where did Mr. Timberlake disappear to? There's someone on the line for him." Ricardo calls out, holding the phone up to my line of sight. Shrugging and responding with an ‘I don't know,' Ricardo groans before placing the phone back to his ears.
In a few seconds flat, Ricardo's calling out to me again just as I make my way unto the stage.
"They want to speak to you!" he beckons and I flinch.
"What?" I ask stupefied. No one ever asks to speak to me or anyone else for that matter unless it's Justin. "But..."
"Said he'd leave the message with you since I told him Justin was just here with you but suddenly left." Ricardo adds in, giving me a weary glance. He knows as well as I do if Justin found out he'd throw a tantrum.
"Can't you take the message?" I ask, not having any intensions of taking that call.
"Na, he insisted on only speaking with you. Listen, just take the call Diane. If it's something important, Justin will chew me out for it. You can give me the message and I'll pass it to him. I won't tell Justin you were on the phone and took any of his calls." Ricardo supplies but I'm still nervous about this. "The guy said you all know each other? Something about a Joshua..." Ricardo rambles out as my heartbeat instantly quickens.
Oh my god, JC's on the phone? Oh my god.
Still, I can't help but pray that Justin doesn't suddenly walk back in here to witness this little scene. As harmless as this is, Justin won't take lightly to me conversing with any of his customers outside of ‘work'.
Before I'm aware of what I'm doing, I find myself jumping off the stage and sprinting towards the bar for the phone, hoping that JC is still on the line and didn't get impatient from waiting for me to make up my mind on whether to take his call or not.