*This chapter contains strong language, drug mention and violence. Please read at your own discretion*

He brush passed her into the room before she could open the door wide enough. She was scared of him, her body crawled whenever he was in close proximity. It was something about his soulless eyes and dark, very dark aura. But for her, he was a necessary evil and he was otherwise known as Tracker.

She closed the door and turned around to see his large frame standing in the middle of her living room, taking over half of her space. His back was to her but she could tell he was taking in the odious state of the room.

She couldn't remember the last time she put anything in it rightful place, she had no strength nor desire to do so. Her dustbin was full to the brim and housed maybe two generations of rats, empty bear bottles and cans littered angles and corners of the room. Flies were no doubt incubating on the dirty dishes and opened takeout boxes lying on every surface.

"This place smell like a dumpster." He stated the obvious in that low voice of his that terrified her. Still, she saddled up to him, noticing the large Manila envelope in his left hand.

She ran her hands through his broad back and he stiffen under her touch but didn't move away.

"Shhh, don't wake the babies." She whispered, dropping a kiss on his clothed back.

"What babies?"

"Daniel and Isabella." She whispered again.

"What..."

"Do you have it?" She asked before he could question her any further.

"How are you going to pay me, Margaret? I took your plasma and those crappy jewelries you had the last time. Your living room is now fúcking trash, there is nothing else I want in here."

She maneuvered her body softly around him like a cat until she stood before him, but prefer not looking into his eyes. "What about me?" She asked, pulling her washed out yellow dress over her head to expose her petite naked body.

She felt his cold eyes dropped to her chest, he gave her a once over and scoffed. "I've got sluts hanging off of my shoulders at the turf, you think I'll be enticed by your drooling boobs?"

"I'll do anything you want. Please, I need it." Margaret pleaded desperately, watching him through heavy lidded eyes.

She wasn't a rookie to this sort of bargain with his kind, she had done it many times before. Albeit true, her breasts were still perky and stomach wasn't sagging from childbirth. The confidence of youth made it a lot easier then.

Tracker backhanded her, hard across the cheek and she yelped at the sudden assault. Her teeth accidentally sunk into her tongue and the metallic taste of blood filled her mouth.

She welcomed it. She loved it. She wanted more. She deserved to feel great pain and he gave her pain.

Without giving the sting across her cheek time to settle, he tossed the envelope in his hand on the couch and yanked her to him by the neck, his fingers firmly wrapped around her slender neck.

He lifted her clear off of her feet and slammed her frail body into the wall, knocking the air out of her, she temporarily saw nothing but darkness.

His choking hold around her neck was then suddenly withdrawn but his body remained pressed up against hers, pinning her against the wall. She heard the distinctive sound of belt unbuckling with the chiming of it metal head and then his trouser brushed her naked legs as it dropped to his ankles.

"This is the last time I come here, Margaret. You can't pay me." He painfully gripped her jaw as he gritted the words out in her face, still she kept her eyes lowered.

She knew she couldn't afford the drug but she needed to stay high, otherwise all she saw was ghosts from her past. Ghosts everywhere! Even when she looked in the mirror, she saw the ghost of the woman that could have been had she made one single wise choice in her life.

Tracker couldn't see them but Jacob and Daniel were right behind him, looking on at her humiliation with ghostly eyes filled with unconcealed disdain. They haunted her house, haunted her sleep and her sanity.

Tracker gave her no warning before his thick shaft rammed into her unprepared opening and she cried out in more pain and no trace of pleasure.

"Shut up, old hag!" He backhanded her again across the same cheek, then his hand was back to choking the life out of her. "You want this." He grunted, pulling out of her and slamming right back in, while still pressing down on her windpipe till she was struggling for air with wide, watery eyes.

"I bring you dope and I give you pleasure also? You're lucky I'm in a generous mood today, bítch." His hand slid down her neck to painful grope her breasts. He found a rhythm that amused him for his thrusts between her legs; going two fast and one slow deep thrústs.

"Maybe we should ask your daughter for a little cash here, she seem to be doing well for herself." Tracker hissed.

Margaret's eyes bulged out in terror when she finally looked into his obsidian black eyes, she felt real fear grip her heart. "You found my daughter?"

"Six months ago." He grunted, fúcking her unrelentingly against the wall. "But you can't afford this piece of information, can you now, Margaret?"

"B.but I need to see my daughter, please tell me where she is." Margaret cried. Two years ago she'd solicited Tracker's help to search for Isabella after searching and waiting in vain for her to come back home for five years.

When she asked Tracker for help, she still had a bit of money and was able to pay him enough to win his interest but as days went by and turned into months without any news, she had no more money and thought he gave up. She knew she did. Yet the bastard had found her daughter for half a year and he didn't say anything!

"There's no one Tracker can't find, unless Tracker isn't looking for them." He said conceitedly and pulled out of her. Without another warning he completely stepped back, releasing all his hold on her body that she crumbled to the floor.

Tracker gripped a fistful of her hair and dragged her to the back of her couch, by the same hair he picked her up and draped her around the backrest of the seater so her upper body fell in the cushion and her legs dangled off of the backrest, leaving her exposed to him in the most humiliating way.

He circled an arm around her waist to hoist her àss up just the way he wanted it, then he positioned himself at her entrance again and unexpectedly slapped her buttcheek hard, the sound mixed with her loud cry.

"Finding your daughter is about to pay off for me. Isn't it, Margaret?" He asked, easing back inside her slowly this time but only to suddenly pick a furious pace.

"You...stay...away...from...my daughter." Margaret gasped with every deep thrúst and tried working her breathing around the bile rising in her throat.

"I'll fúck her too, if she's lucky." Tracker went on casually. "Hopefully her pússy won't be as bland as yours. How would you like to watch your daughter getting fúcked by me, Margaret? Ugh, feel my díck hardening in you with the thought of fúcking your daughter? Fúck...Isabella, is it?"

His mad groans of pleasure sent a disgusted shudder down her spine and she retched at the same time he thrúst into her again. Margaret emptied her stomach all over the cushion and the envelope Tracker dropped on it earlier.

"Fúcking hell, you've gotta be kidding me!" He roared behind her and followed it with two painful whips across her spine. Margaret cried out but never begged him to stop, she realized he was hitting her with his belt now.

"You disgusting whóre! Eat your fúcking vomit then." He shoved her upper body deeper into the cushion until one side of her face was planted in her puke while he fúcked and whipped her still.

"In that envelope is the info of your daughter's location, she goes by Isabella Campbell now. And you have to find a way to pay me, don't you bìtch?" His thrústs got quicker and shallow as he grunted and called her more colorful names. He was reaching his climax, she deduced and couldn't wait for it to be over.

"Argh, I bet a line of coke that your daughter's pússy will be tighter than your shìthole. And I'm going to enjoy fúcking her brains out after she pays for her mama's debts. Does she know you're a pitifully broke junkie? We are going to surprise her, aren't we? Oh fùck." He groaned and finally pulled out of her to empty his load right in the space between her butt cheeks.

He whipped her twice more on each butt cheek before stepping back, proudly watching his cúm slid down her trembling legs.

Margaret body felt like it was on fire; her back where he'd whipped her and especially her center where he'd fùcked her never mind the friction. She struggled to stand on her feet but crumbled to the ground again with a whimper, the soiled envelope now clutched in her hands.

"Been a long time you've been fúcked? Or you've just never had a dìck like mine before?" Tracker asked, smugly pulling his trouser back up. He reached into his back pocket and produced a small transparent bag of cocaine and heroin mixed, which he tossed at Margaret's pathetic form on the floor.

"There's your speedball, Junkie. Seven days starting from today, you pay up or I'm going for your daughter! Might do you a favor and arrange a bloody reunion." He snarled at her before striding out.

Margaret picked the small packet he tossed at her and added it to the envelope, she fiercely hugged both to her chest like her life depended on them. "It's okay babies. Momma is here now, no one is going to take you away." She cooed deliriously.

She then opened the packet and poured out some of the substance in it on her arm in a thin line, ignoring Daniel and Jacob's harsh glare she snorted the powder clean and closed her eyes at the instant exhilarating effect.

There, that should send her demons to the back of her mind for a little while.

"Where's my lighter and syringe?" She asked out loud but of course got no reply. Her ghosts don't talk much, they only followed her around to make sure she had a constant reminder of everything she did wrong with her life.

With the little concentration she could mutter under the influence, she shakily but carefully opened Tracker's envelope.

She emptied it content on the floor beside her and picked up one of the photographs that spilled out. Margaret didn't recognize the blond woman in that picture, she held it close to her face until her nose was touching the copy yet it wasn't any clearer.

She picked another one up for scrutiny, same woman but red hair here, still oblivious to her picture being taken and here she was looking down at a little blond girl. Was that Isabella?

"My baby girl? She's a woman now!" Margaret awed, picking another picture. "Could this be her daughter? My baby girl have a baby girl? Does that mean I'm a grandmother?" She laughed hysterically until she was sprawled out on the cold floor, clutching her side.

Soon her laugh turned into quiet sob. Isabella was a mother, Margaret could tell by the wideness of her hips in the pictures. A woman's hips never lie.

Isabella had grown into herself since the last time they saw each other seven years ago, her body had been transformed by the miracle that was childbirth and she wore it spectacularly.

Margaret missed watching her baby girl grow into a full blown woman, she missed welcoming her grandchild into the world. Another set of failure in her miserable life.

She left everything where they were and crawled over to her coffee table at the other side of the room, still naked but who cares? She would die in this house and she could only hope the stench of her decomposed body became unbearable for the neighbors at some point. Only then would anyone be bothered to check her out.

With a bit more effort, she managed to heave her bare àss unto a stood. On the coffee table before her, was the lighter, spoon and syringe she was looking for. Beside that, her journal laid open with a pen between the pages, she pulled it closer and continued writing where she had stopped.

This was the story of her life like no one else knew it, not even her daughter.

Margaret did try to give Isabella a better life than the one she had. She thought Daniel too would be safe and better off with his father's family. She hadn't known his name was Daniel until seven years ago, she hadn't even known he was a boy.

She pretended she gave birth to only one child for so long that even she eventually believed it.

Margaret was born and raised in the slum, it was all she knew as far as home went. She'd gotten hooked on crack by the time she was fourteen. From there on until she was eighteen, she just kept going down, traveling a lone path to self destruction.

She did and dealt all sort of drugs, got involved with the wrong people and messed with the wrong crowd.

It was her life and she didn't have a problem with it until Jacob Campbell came along. Like a ray of light to her soul that had been deprived of sunshine, his warmth, his touches and kisses became her new drug and she couldn't get enough.

She got cleaned of every other drugs for him, because he was worth it. He made her want to be a better person, he made her believe in fairytales and happily ever after.

Then his family swooped in and threatened her to stay away but she had already gotten addicted to him and this drug she couldn't quit.

If only she had listened.

If only she could go back in time and cut things off with him in time before it destroyed the both of them and even their children.

She should have know she could never have him, Jacob was everything a girl like her had to go through life without. He was someone she was only meant to read about in novels, they didn't even make his type in movies.

He was an aristocrat by birth, with a future that had been set in gold and she barely had two cent to her name.

He was just short of being a prince and well, she was the junkie from the slum. They were worlds apart but since when has that stopped love? Oh love, you cruel inconsiderate fool.

She fell for him and he fell back twice as hard. Young naive idiots they both were, to think their love would conquer it all.

Sooo anyway, today happened to be my birthday! Send me some love please, cuz lately I've been craving more!