Page 8 of Dancing with the Devil

Ninety percent of his relapses were because of him losing his job. Unfortunately, it was a never-ending cycle. A cycle I was trying to help him break. But, I could only do so much.

“I know I said that I’d get better, and this will all be over, but I just couldn’t control it this time.”I’ve heard that before.

“I can’t keep working two jobs and coming home to take care of you and the house anymore,” I shook my head. A heavy weight pressed down onto my chest, and just as I thought I had gotten rid of it, it wrapped around my throat.

I could tell my dad was feeling guilty. I wasn’t trying to make him feel guilty, but it was the truth, and he needed to hear it.

“I know, but please understand, Nirah,” he began, walking towards me. “This is my third job in a month. It’s been rough for me.” I swallowed hard.It’s been hard for you, dad?“I’ll find a job soon, okay? And I won’t fuck it up this time,” he nodded in an attempt to reassure me. I could only show him a closed mouth smile.

“Okay,” I nodded in defeat, and he pulled me into his arms. I wrapped my arms around his waist and he kissed the top of my head repeatedly.

“Two chocolate coated donuts?” he asked and I forced a smile.

“Add a jelly filled one and you’re completely forgiven,” I humorously said, breaking the hug as I looked up at him. The storm brewing behind his eyes had seeped into his brain, clouding his mind in variously ill ways.He needs help, Nirah.

I offered to clean up the kitchen but he wouldn’t let me and promised that as soon as he was done, he’d leave to get the donuts.I really hope he finds a job soon.

Suppressing my mixed emotions, I got changed into something comfortable and closed my bedroom door. I decided to play one of my favorite songs to dance to—River by Bishop Briggs.

The song vibrated through the room and I tossed the remote onto my wooden dresser.

I walked over to the pole I had set up near my bedroom window and took a few deep breaths in.

A few ideas jumped into my head and I clung to the pole as I slowly spun around, organizing my thoughts. Dancing was my ultimate escape. It was just me and the pole. No one and nothing else.

I lifted myself off the ground as I spun faster, climbing the pole with ease. Whenever I danced, it was as though gravity didn’t exist. I could justbe—lifting my arms, legs, twisting myself in any directions I pleased. I had no obstructions. No limits, and no boundaries.

I focused on every beat and every word from the song as the song bounced off the walls, wrapping around me like an armor no one could penetrate.

I couldn’t contain my smile as I hooked the back of my knee around the pole, throwing my head and arms back. My hair hung loose, flowing as I spun around the pole. I was happiest when I was dancing… and no one could take that from me.

I slowly descended to the balls of my feet catching my breath. I whipped in the direction of my dresser to turn down the music but gasped in shock as a man stood in my doorway, leaning against the door frame with his muscular arms crossed over his broad chest.

“Jesus Christ!”

“Don’t stop on my account,sweetheart,” the tall, brunette mused.

My heart dropped to my feet as I stood there, barely clothed in front of a man I didn’t know. He was pretty broad and I could tell his biceps were huge by the way they were trapped in his black dress shirt. Long legs, feet crossed at the ankles.

His facial features were extremely defined, especially his strong jaw line. He had a little scar underneath his right eye but it was fading. His eyes, though a beautiful olive green, portrayed a deep, dark, black hole.

He had somewhat of a dangerously luring energy circulating around him and it felt…inviting. Fearfully so, that is.

His voice was a low rasp. “Done checking me out?”

I couldn’t help but find calmness in his voice. It seemed too familiar.

I swallowed hard. “No. But I do have a pretty good description to hand over to the police,” I replied, trying to steady my voice and he simply hummed in response. Hummed. Hehummedin response.

“Who the hell are you, and what are you doing in here?” I asked, grabbing the remote to turn down the music.

He tilted his head to the right as he pushed himself off the door frame. He strode inside and my heart rate increased—pounding in fear.

“No, no no,” I rapidly shook my head as he walked over to my bed. He fell back on my bed, propping himself up on both of his elbows. “What are you doing?” I gulped.

He answered as though it was the most obvious thing. “Waiting for my lap dance,sweetheart.”

I scoffed at his ridiculousness. “You can’t just waltz in here and demand a lap dance,sweetheart,” I shot back. “Are you insane?” my brows drew together and he cocked a sharp brow at me. “Did you escape from a mental asylum or something?” I frowned until realization slammed into me. “Oh God—you’re here to kidnap me, aren’t you?” I lifted my hand to my neck to pull away the invisible object wrapping around my throat—suffocating me.