House of Venom

Heating

DAMARIS MONROE

As the dark clouds roll in, the first few raindrops begin to fall, tapping gently on the car windows like long-lost friends seeking shelter. But as their numbers grow, the tapping turns into a furious knocking, as if the raindrops were desperate to be let inside.

Brothers and sisters in a wild race, each drop racing down the glass as fast as they could, their pitter-patter echoing throughout the car. They compete with one another, pushing and shoving, eager to be the first to reach the finish line at the bottom of the window.

"How is your belly?"

The raindrops continue their frenzied race down the car window, each one vying for victory in a competition with no clear winner. Yet, despite the intensity of the race, I can't help but feel Aaron's piercing gaze fixed upon me.

It's as if he knows the pain that I'm trying to conceal, the ache in my stomach from the cruel kick that had been dealt to me. But even as I rub my belly with a trembling hand, the pain seems to fade into the background, replaced by the thrill of watching the raindrops race.

"I'll survive."

"We'll look for something in my house to ease the pain."

"How did you know it was me?"

As I reach up to untangle my fingers from the luscious strands of the blonde wig, memories flood my mind like a movie reel playing in slow motion. The wig, a disguise that had to shield me from danger, now feels like a burden that weighs heavily on my head.

I peel it off with a sigh, feeling the cool air against my scalp and the itch that comes with the relief of freedom. The sensation reminds me of the moments when the danger loomed, and I was vulnerable to its grasp.

Aaron's laughter fills the air, like the sweet melody of a song that you can't help but dance to. It's infectious, spreading joy and mirth wherever it goes.

As his chuckles subside, his mischievous smile takes over his face, like a painter's brush stroking a canvas with vibrant colors. His eyes twinkle with a playful glint, daring you to join in on the fun.

"With a body like that, I would recognize you in any disguise."

"Pig."

He rubs his chin with a palm, a gesture that oozes confidence and charm. It's like he's pondering something mischievous, something that's sure to make you laugh or gasp in surprise.

For a moment, time seems to stand still as you take in his charismatic presence. It's as if the world revolves around him, and you're just a mere spectator to his charm and wit.

"I wasn't going to intervene with your case, as you call it. But my mind changed the moment I saw you get assaulted."

"Why?"

"No one has the right to hurt any woman, not in my presence."

My heart pounds in my chest as the car comes to a stop in front of a tall skyscraper. My eyes dart nervously around, taking in the imposing structure before me, wondering what secrets it holds within.

Aaron's words echo in my mind, the gravity of his message weighing heavily on me. The way his face had become serious as he spoke of the harm inflicted upon women had left an indelible mark on my memory.

I can't help but wonder, is this why he's so obsessed with these brothels? Does he see them as a symbol of the pervasive violence against women, a disease that needs to be cured?

As the garage door slowly opens, revealing a collection of high-end vehicles, I can't help but feel a sense of overwhelming inadequacy. These cars cost more than my entire apartment, a reminder of the vast chasm between the haves and have-nots.