The Dance Of Fire

Chapter 10.

She worked hard. Cleaning room after room. Changing the sheets on all the beds. Doing laundry. Scrubbing the kitchen. Folding the clothes and cleaning toilets. It was her penance. It was the price of her freedom. She had spent years in their home. Cooking and cleaning. Taking care of the younger kids. Sending them to school. Helping them with homework. Changing diapers for the smallest ones. Bottle feeding them. Being a mother figure when she was still a child herself because she couldn’t watch the hurt. She couldn’t watch them hungry, dirty, and in pieces. Just so that their guardians could get a check each month. So that they didn’t have to do anything but cash it in. But now she was still paying. Because they knew her secret. They knew she wasn’t as old as she said she was. And they had threatened to report John. Their son, Micheal. He was a police officer. It would be so easy for him to prove John's crime. Send him to prison for fabricating documents. He would end up losing his pension. Losing his name, and spending his last days in prison. And she could never let that. So she ended up as their personal maid. Spending every possible weekend tydiying the place. Helping with the smaller kids. Now they don’t have as many. They were getting older and they couldn’t accommodate as many as before. But it still took her a long time to finish everything. And cook enough food to last them for a couple of days. Micheal was the worse. A bully. Using his uniform to be cruel. Cause fear. Strike when he was supposed to protect. They grew up together. But he had always hated her. He had always hurt her. Throwing her against the walls. Calling her names. Throwing things at her. The older they got, the more vicious his attacks would be. He broke her leg twice. Smiling. Telling her that she would not dance again. And she didn’t. It was his revenge for winning the scholarship. For daring to think that she was better than them. For daring to dream that she could leave them. And she did leave. But she was never free. When she finally put the last plastic box into the freezer after cooking for more than 3 hours, her job was done for that week. The kitchen seemed clean. All the bedrooms and bathrooms were tidy. She could slowly gather her things and go back to her place. But she felt his gaze upon her. He was standing at the kitchen door still wearing his uniform. Probably just finished with his shift. His cold brown eyes never showed any other emotion than hate. He was taller than her. Bulkier. His hair was cut short. Showing olive-tanned skin with bulging muscles. He worked in the gym almost every morning. Together with his friends.

-How are you, Nahara? I didn’t see you last month?-he asked almost politely. He stepped forward, taking an apple from the fruit basket on the kitchen island. Biting the juicy fruit. Nahara felt her throat closing. It was never nice between them.

-I have been keeping myself busy.-she said in a low voice. There was never a correct answer to please him with. And she never knew what to expect. He nodded his head, his eyes still on her.

-That’s good to hear. Is anything new happening?-he asked almost idly. Not trusting her voice, she just waved her head. He got closer to her. Taking in her personal space. Searching her eyes for any traces of lies. She was aware of the smell of gun cleaner and bleach. It was constant with him. Bleach could hide all traces of blood.

-Same as usual.-she whispered. He gave her a smile. A predatory smile. She hated that smile as much as she hated him.

-That’s even better.-he reached out, pulling her hair away from her face.

-We should get out sometimes. Hang out with the guys.-he said, as if they were best friends. Nahara didn’t answer this time. It wasn’t a question.

-If you don’t mind. I was thinking of heading home.-she tried to say politely. His smile was still on his face.

-No problem Nahara. I know you are working hard. Why don’t I give you a ride home? It's already late and I don’t want you wondering this late at night. It's not safe. It's not safe at all.-he suggested. Before she could say anything, he was already pushing her towards the door. She managed to grab her bag from the counter, swallowing a huge lump in her throat. He was back.