Page 7 of Dancing with the Devil

Ignoring him entirely, I brushed past him as I continued on my way. I happened to catch his scent as it lightly drifted into my nose and fuck me, all I could think about was suffocating myself in it.

“No ‘thank you’?” he asked from behind me and I heard his lighter flick open.

I continued on my way. “Didn’t ask for your help,” I replied, leaving him in the dark night.Men.

I eventually got home and made sure to lock the front door behind myself.

The place reeked of alcohol and cigarette smoke. Lights coming from the living room flickered in my eyes as I slowly stepped closer. I let out a sad, exhausted breath, seeing my dad passed out on the sofa.Again, daddy?

The floor, tables and sofas were covered in beer bottles. He had one clutched to his chest while a burnt-out cigarette hung from his fingers.

I headed up to my bedroom and changed into some sweatpants and a t-shirt. Thereafter, I made my way back downstairs to clean up the mess he had made. He slept through all of it, so I covered him with a blanket and turned off the TV.

I walked straight past the kitchen—having lost my appetite—and closed my bedroom door before hopping into the shower and getting dressed.

I plopped down onto my bed and stared up at the ceiling.

He always promises that he’s better. That the alcohol doesn’t control him anymore. He always promises that things will go back to the way it was. That he and I will be happy and carefree. He always makes promises he can’t keep.

He’s been an alcoholic for years. Ever since my mom left us, he hasn’t been himself. He hasn’t been able to go on with life either. But every time, just as I think he’s getting better, something happens and he relapses… leaving me to pick up the pieces and take care of him.

Every—single—time.

CHAPTER 2

Nirah

PIERCING MY EYES open, I groaned, turning onto my side.

Big mistake. The bright sunlight burned my retinas straight through my eyelids. I lazily covered my head with the sheets, allowing the warmth to wrap around me, but two minutes later, my siren-like alarm sliced through the air.

With reluctance, I threw my bare legs over the edge of my bed. The coldness pricked at my soles as I got up, stretching my arms into the air.

I gathered my hair, fisting it into a ponytail as I dragged my body to the bathroom.

Today will be better. It has to be. I didn’t want to think about last night, but as usual, my mind betrayed me. The interaction played in my head like an unending loop. Sylvester, and the gut-wrenching memories that came with him.

Still in my plaid pajama shorts and grey sweatshirt—that Iborrowedfrom my best friend Jordan—I headed downstairs and heard the clinking of pots and pans coming from the kitchen.

Hesitantly, I took the last step, craning my neck around the corner. I couldn’t contain my smile as I watched my dad failinghorribly at making breakfast. Dark smoke floated out of the pot on the stove while the water in the other overflowed.

“Dad?” I fought back a chuckle, trying to hide my smile. He spun around with big brown eyes and froze—completely defeated.

“Nirah,” he sighed, and I rushed over to turn off the stove before he burned our damn house down. “I was trying to cook breakfast, and I—it didn’t go well—it’snotgoing well,” he breathlessly stuttered, looking at the mess he made.

“It’s okay,” I assured him with a kiss to his cheek. “Who needs breakfast anyway?” I frowned, picking up a piece of burnt toast.

“I guess I’ll just have to go out and get us coffee and donuts then…” he trailed off, seeming extremely disappointed in himself. Sympathy pinched at my heart as I watched the disappointment in himself consume his entire being.

“Coffee and donuts are theonlytwo things that’ll fix this,” I shot him a warm smile before we both burst out into laughter.

Dad and I had been through a lot over the years, but he never failed me when it came down to trying; putting in the effort. He wasn’t perfect, hell who was, but that didn’t stop him fromtrying. Even when his trying led to ultimate failures.

A heavy, unwanted tension hung in the air as I emptied out the pot of water into the sink while he cleaned up the countertop. He was the first to break the silence, and my heart raced in anticipation. I anxiously pushed a stray strand of my hair behind my ear, waiting.

“I wanted to apologize,” he sighed, scratching the back of his neck, and my body tensed. “Yesterday. I disappointed you… I know.”

“You lost your job, didn’t you?” I half whispered as I turned around, and he lowered his head, averting my eyes.Of course, he did.