DISCLAIMER: See installment one.

A/N: Sorry I haven't updated in a while. I've been busy with life a bit, but I'm back with a new chapter. Thanks to those who reviewed. It is much appreciated. Now that I finally have the word processor that I like, I have gone back and fixed the many errors I had within the story, and I do plan to upload them again with those corrections at a later date. And I will fix the mansion placement error brought to my attention by mrs vercetti. I haven't played the game in such a long time, I've forgotten a few things about it!

"""""

Turn Table - Liberty City, New York - May 1998

She stood outside with Kit and a few of their other friends, waiting for the bouncer to clear them through. Looking around inside the opened door, she could see how crowded the club was.

"How do you expect to get into an overstuffed club?" she asked, leaning herself into Kit.

"I know some people. We'll get in." As Kit turned back around, the bouncer reached out to wave them in. "See?" she smiled, popping her gum.

Angela followed her into the building, loud music overpowering her senses. She could barely think as she sat beside Kit at a corner booth.

"How long are we going to stay here?" Angela nearly shouted so she could be heard.

"Not long. I just thought a breather would be good for you after everything."

"Yeah," she agreed in a quieter voice. Her thoughts drifted off to the man she left behind in Vice City, as they usually had the past few weeks. Kit was doing her best in order for Angela to forget just for a little bit what she was going through. She absentmindedly placed a hand over her lower abdomen, not even realizing when Kit scooted herself from the booth.

She quickly returned though, two non-alcoholic drinks in her hands, and slid back into the booth next to Angela.

"""""

"Who is that woman?"

"Which, sir?"

"Down at table five, in the corner. She's sitting next to Kit." Before the other man could answer, he was slowly descending the spiral staircase that led from the VIP loft. Approaching the table, he straightened his tie and pulled his suit jacket neat. "Ladies."

"Hey, Mark," Kit said, standing to lean over the table to kiss his cheek.

"Welcome again, Kit. And who is this lovely lady with you tonight?" he asked, eying Angela.

"This is my best friend Angela." She sat and turned to her friend. "Angela, this is Marcus."

Angela held out her hand, not wanting to stand. He took it and kissed the back of it.

"Never did I think I'd see such beauty in my club tonight." His compliment and the wide smile afterward went almost unnoticed by Angela. Inwardly, she scoffed at the idea that any man was hitting on her. Kit sat next to her, dressed up and looking beautiful, and there she was, sitting in a slouch, no makeup on, in a pair of old leggings and a gray off-the-shoulder shirt with a white tank top underneath. She knew she was nothing special tonight, but here this Marcus guy was, standing in front of her, blinding her with brilliant white teeth.

Marcus held out his hand to them. "Please, ladies, join me in the loft area. Drinks are on me."

Kit glanced at Angela, noting the sour look on her face. "There's a bathroom up there," she whispered low so only Angela could hear. "It's not public."

Angela nodded, and proceeded to follow Kit closely as Marcus led them up the spiral steps. She excused herself as Kit and Marcus sat around a coffee table, opening a random door and shutting it before anyone could follow her. Taking only a few steps, she stopped herself as she looked around. A king size bed draped in sheer black cloth stood at the back of the room, on an angled wall. To her left, an oversized mahogany desk was placed in a nook beside another smaller room. She quickly made a jet-line to the smaller room, throwing the door open, thanking the heavens above that it was indeed a bathroom.

Before she could take in what the bathroom fully looked like, she sank to her knees in front of the toilet, her hair to one side. She didn't hear the door that led from the loft open and click shut as she retched. Sighing loudly, she leaned back into the cool marble tub. She eventually stood to her feet, rinsing out her mouth, and flushing as she reached for a towel to dry her hands and mouth.

"Feeling sick?" the deep male voice buzzed.

She gasped, and turned around, seeing Marcus stand in the bathroom doorway. "I - I'm sorry. I just needed to - "

"You're welcome to lay down if you'd like."

She nodded slowly, her head still cloudy from sickness and lonely thoughts. She allowed him to slowly guide her by the arm to his bed. He pulled back the sheer material just enough so she could sit on the edge. A weary moan escaped her lips as she lifted her legs up and propped her head against a black satin pillow. Closing her eyes, she thanked him, and she tried to calm her nerves as she could feel her torso shaking.

"No need to thank me," he said in a tone so low it scared her. "Did you have too much to drink?"

"N - No," she stumbled out. "I can't drink."

She saw his brows scrunched together in confusion, but the expression quickly faded as he moved his way to sit next to her, placing his large hand over her thigh and holding her body to him.

"You're shaking. Tell me what I can do to make you feel better."

"I - I'm fine," she said, starting to sit up, but he held his hand out to her chest.

"Hold on a minute. You can't walk out of here. I simply can't allow someone who feels ill to leave. I'd never forgive myself if something happened to you."

She could only nod as her head thumped against the pillow. Her eyes drifted shut again, and she faintly heard Marcus move around in the room. Drawers quietly shutting and a click of a door closing almost brought her to her senses. A familiar scent wafted her way, a warm body sinking down next her shortly followed.

"Kit?" she asked wearily.

"Oh gosh, Mark, she's burning up. I need to get her home in bed."

"She can stay here if you don't think it's good to move her. I'll take good care of her."

Angela opened her eyes enough to see Kit's worried face bouncing back and forth between her and Marcus. Kit let out a heavy sigh, "Okay, but only because I don't want to move her around. She's already extremely hot."

"I don't blame you. Here," he said, passing her a cool damp cloth. Kit placed the cloth on Angela's forehead before standing. "Don't worry, I'll keep her safe. She'll probably sleep all night. I'll keep an eye on her."

"Thanks, Mark." She reached to hug the man, then disappeared out the door. Angela's vision dimmed as he leaned over her.

"Yeah, you'll be safe with me, darling."

She desperately tried to see his face close to her, but blackness soon overcame her.

"""""

Her eyes slowly crept open the next morning. She was stripped down to her under garments, and a soft blanket was placed over her. To her relief, she heard Kit talking.

"Kit?"

"Oh, thank goodness!" Kit exclaimed as she stood from the desk in the nook next to the bathroom. "I'll call you back. She just woke up. Thanks for taking care of her." She quickly placed the phone down and scurried over to Angela.

"Was I sick last night?"

"You had a fever."

"Was I drinking?" she asked, her voice going unnaturally high.

"No," Kit answered, letting out a small laugh. "But you did throw up in Mark's bathroom."

She sat up, placing her hand over her face. "Oh, God, did I make a mess?"

"Girl, you should have been rushed to the emergency room last night, and that's what you're worried about?" She turned, picking up a silver tray. "Not even when you're sick, do you ever want to be messy." Placing the tray down on the bedside table, she handed Angela two tablets.

"What are these?" she asked, tossing them in her mouth and swallowing them down with a chug of orange juice.

"Some fever reducers. You still felt a little hot when I got in earlier."

She nodded and made a little grunt. "Where'd that guy go?" She pulled off the silver dome on the largest plate on the tray to reveal waffles, scrambled eggs, bacon and strawberries.

"Mark?" she asked, plucking a strawberry off the white plate. "He left to go upstate. But he made sure we had some platters of food. The other one has pancakes and fried eggs with sausage."

"Ugh, pancakes," she shook her head. "Don't make me vomit again." She tore the corner of a waffle off and dipped it into the cup of syrup that sat beside the plate next to a butter dish. "Can we go after we eat? This place gives me the creeps."

"Is it actually the club, or is it really Mark?"

"Something doesn't set right with me about him. Not saying he's a bad guy, but still."

"Just a gut feeling, huh?" She grabbed the pancake platter and sat next to Angela on the bed. "Couldn't be any worse than Tommy."

Angela stopped in her tracks. "Oh," she said quietly, remembering the man she loved. "No, not any worse than him." She continued to eat the strip of bacon that she was nearly squeezing between her fingertips. "I loved him."

"You still do." She gave a warm smile to Angela as she lightly bumped into her shoulder.

"What do I do now? Is it wrong for me to want to wait forever for him?"

"Nah," she said. "You know he'll eventually find you. You two being together was never my concern."

"Then what was it?"

Kit looked into her friend's cocoa eyes, her own cinnamon eyes searching Angela's very soul. "You two being apart."