Chapter Four

NAJWA POV

I finish the day's homework at the library, knowing I won't be able to concentrate once I step foot back in the house. When I first moved in with Mike, I was one night away from being evicted from the couch I was crashing on...not to mention all the other financial issues I dealt with. We had only been dating two months, but I had nowhere else to go.

That was over two years ago.

I knew based on the cars he drove and the size of his house that he had money. What I wasn't sure of was whether or not it was old money or if he was involved in something he shouldn't have been involved in. I was hoping it would be the former, but me and hope have never had good results. He hid it pretty well for the first couple of months, excusing his spending habits on the illusion that he had a big inheritance. I believed him for a while. I had no choice but to believe him.

When people I didn't know began showing up at odd hours of the night, and Mike only spoke to them behind closed doors, it became more and more obvious. He tried to explain his reasoning and swore he only sold "harmless" drugs to people who were going to find it somewhere else anyway. I didn't want any part of it, so when he refused to stop, I left.

The only problem was, I had nowhere to go. I crashed on a few friends' couches, but none of them had room or money to keep supporting me. I would have resorted to a homeless shelter before going back to Mike, but it wasn't my life I was worried about; it was my little brother's.

Stephen has never had it easy. He was born with a lot of issues, both mentally and physically. He was receiving state funding for his care and had finally been put in a good home I could trust with him, but when that was cut off, I couldn't risk him being sent back home to my mother. I didn't want him back in that life, and I'd do anything to make sure he wasn't a part of it ever again.

I was gone all of two weeks when I had no one else to turn to other than Mike. Walking back through his doors and asking for his help was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. It was as if running back into his arms was the equivalent of relinquishing my self-respect. He let me move back in, but not without consequences. Now that he knew exactly how much I had to depend on him, he stopped hiding his lifestyle. More and more people came over, and transactions were out in the open rather than behind closed doors.

Now, there are constantly so many people in and out of the house that it's difficult to differentiate between the people who live here, the people who crash here, and complete strangers. Every night is a party, and every party is my nightmare.

Every week that passes, the atmosphere becomes more and more dangerous, and I want out more than ever. I've been working part-time on campus in the library, but they don't have a student worker position for me this semester. I'm on a waiting list, and I've been applying for other jobs, trying desperately to add to my escape cash. It wouldn't be so hard if it were just myself I had to care for, but with Stephen in the picture, it'll take money that I don't have. Money that I won't have for a while.

In the meantime, I have to keep up appearances by acting like I still owe my life to Mike, when in reality, I feel like he's ruining it. Don't get me wrong, I do love him. I love who he used to be and who I still see small glimpses of when we're in private. I love who I know he could be again someday, but I'm also not naïve. As many promises as he's made me that he's scaling down the business in preparation to get out, I know he won't. I've tried to talk some sense into him, but when you've got the power in your hands and the money in your pocket, it's hard to walk away. He'll never walk away. He'll either do this until he's in prison…or until he's dead. And I don't want to be around for either.

I don't even try to identify the vehicles in the driveway anymore. Every day there's a new one. I park Mike's car and grab my things, then head inside for another night of hell.

When I walk inside, the house is eerily quiet. I shut the door behind me and smile, relishing in the fact that everyone's out back at the pool. I never get a chance for solitude, so I take advantage and put in my headphones and begin cleaning. I know it doesn't sound like fun, but for me it's my only chance to escape.

Not to mention, the house is a constant pigsty.

I start in the living room and throw away enough beer bottles to fill a thirty-gallon trash bag. When I reach the kitchen and witness the mountain of dishes piled in the sink, I actually smile. This should waste at least an hour. I organize the dirty dishes to the left of the sink and begin filling the basin with water. I begin to sway to the music spilling into my ears from the headphones. I haven't felt so at peace in this house since the first two months I lived here. Back when the good Mike was around.

As soon as memories of the Mike I fell in love with flood my mind, I feel his arms wrap around me from behind and he begins swaying to the music with me. I smile and keep my eyes closed and wrap my hands in his, then lean back against his chest. He kisses my ear, then laces his fingers with mine and spins me around to face him. When I open my eyes, he's smiling down at me with a genuinely sweet expression. I haven't seen this look in his eyes in so long, it actually makes my heart ache, knowing how much I've missed it.

Maybe he really is trying. Maybe he's tired of this life, too.