Borgata - Book II #wattys2016

Chapter 13: Come Back and Haunt Me

MOMMA IS HERE! xoxoxoxoxoxoxo (This song attached to the chapter though.) ;)

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IMPORTANT NOTE: August 24th begins the WATTY AWARDS VOTING ON TWITTER! I hope you will all be there to share and retweet Omertà and Borgata to help it be one of the top ten shares for the contest!! Winning the Watty Awards 2015 will bring me one step closer to publishing my books outside of Wattpad and making my books into movies! We can do this!!! My Twitter is @katrocks247 and you gotta hashtag #MyWattysChoice and a separate link to Borgata and then Omertà when the voting period comes! :D

If you want to submit FAN ART for my contest, send it to me by August 16th! The contest is for Omertà, Borgata, and Death Is My BFF! You can submit MULTIPLE entries! Please send them to me on Twitter or Instagram!!

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Please do me a HUGE favor and vote, leave feedback, and share this with your friends if you enjoy my updates!!!

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"I would let Bobby HULK out on ME, even though Fico has a special place in my heart ;))))) ," my sister said, when asked what to say at the beginning of the chapter. 

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My life picked up exactly where I'd left it. My boss, Orlando, at the strip club, disregarded my absence the entire week when I lied and said I'd gone through a bad menstrual cycle and was out of reach.

I wasn't exactly resting like Dr. Bianchi had told me to do, two weeks before, but I couldn't just sit on my ass at my apartment, when I no longer had someone else paying for my AC and my living space. Not that I was crabby about working again because truthfully I loved to dance and I especially loved distracting myself from my own thoughts- and there is nothing more distracting then grindin' on a pole for a bunch of ugly, rich men, while you dance half-naked.

It was a Friday night, two weeks after Ben and Hulk had dropped me off at my apartment and fled for the hills, and three days after I'd panicked, and used Fico's phone to smash a spider, that looked like it belonged in the Amazon Rainforest. I know, one of many reasons why I couldn't have nice things. The spider was dead. So was the phone, but only because I didn't have a charger for it and was too lazy to buy one.

I was going to be part of a show, at eight, and then hoped to get two private dances in, before I went home. And the only way to get private dances was to look nice and catch someone's attention. Readying for the show, I padded around my dressing room with my pink fuzzy robe, cotton balls in between my toes, and a new face mask on my skin that I'd bought simply because it was purple. Truth be told, I spent more time in my dressing room, than I did at home, and truth be told, the dressing room was a lot nicer than my apartment.

I got up and placed my empty bowl of fruit loops in the small sink by the door and then hobbled back to my spot in front of the massive pink vanity mirror to do my nails. I'd started to paint my thumbnail a ruby red, when my phone in my dressing room rang. It was a ridiculous, cheap vintage phone with a curled blue chord attached to the wall, that Orlando had let me put in my room. Of course, it was just for decoration because a) I had no friends, and b) I didn't even give away my dressing room number.

I reached over, without leaving my chair and picked it up, stretching the coiled blue chord to reach me. "Hello?" I answered, unraveling the towel from my hair and shaking my shower wet, short hair out.

"I'd like to speak to Hannah," a deep, accented voice spoke.

I frowned. "I'm sorry, I think you have the wrong number?"