His Precious Secret//His Dirty Little Secret Book Two//Jayceon Taylor//The Game

A Sick Anniversary//His Precious Secret

(If you're reading this you're awesome)

🙇🏽‍♀️ Natasha🙇🏽‍♀️

It'd been exactly a year since I'd left Jayceon Taylor. I sat, alone, in my cheap apartment with four empty bottles of cheap wine infront of me. My hair was greasy and tied back in a scruffy ponytail. I'd lost at least four stone since I'd last seen Jay.

There was an empty bong on the small coffee table and a weedless bag of weed. With my hands shaking, I wiped a stray tear that rolled down my face away.

I missed Jay.

I missed him to the point where it was unbearable to think of him. I stood up and staggered to the kitchen, swinging to cupboard door open to grab a bottle of vodka. I took it back into the living room and slumped on my second hand couch.

I swigged back my drink and stared at the tv. My apartment was lit with candles-I hadn't been able to pay the electric bill that month.

I was sat in Jay's hoodie, one of the ones I'd taken, but there was definitely a problem. The hoodie no longer smelt of him. It just smelt of alcohol and weed.

I lifted myself from the couch with a strong amount of effort and trudged out of my apartment-not bothering to lock the door-nothing was worth stealing. I pulled my hood up and staggered down the steps with difficulty.

I ran down the street until I came to a side street and I turned. I turned again down an alley and knocked a big metal door with my shaky fist.

A tall, dark skinned man the size of a wardrobe opened the door. His slimey mouth raised into a smirk, "Well hey Tash, come on in baby girl."

I trudged inside, sobering up slightly from the cold air outside. I found my way to Michael's living room. There were several men sat around smoking spliffs with girls in their laps. I went straight to Michael-a boney black man with fake gold teeth.

"Hey baby girl, what ya here for?"

"I ran out." I muttered.

"Did you bring money?"

"Got none." I told the truth.

Michael stood, running his hand down my face before gripping my chin, "Ya lucky I like you, slut, you know the price when ya have no money."

"Can I pop a pill first?"

Michael rolled his eyes and pushed me away whilst agreeing. I helped myself to a blue pill and swallowed it down. The world slowed down and blurred. I heard the sick laughter of the men haunt my ears as they took their payment out of my body. I hardly knew they were doing anything, I felt like I was somewhere else. I didn't feel real.

I woke in the bed of a man, naked, the next day. I rolled over, looking at one of Michael's friends and sat up quietly. I pulled my clothes on and grabbed two bags of string weed and a bag of assorted pills. I snuck out and ran home.

That was one way to spend a day I wanted to forget.