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Heather didn’t know how much time she spent in the bath, but she realized she must have fallen asleep, because the washing machine was done and the water had become lukewarm. Her fingers were also extremely wrinkled. The remains of the shampoo and the soap she had used had accumulated into a crust at the top of the bath.

She pulled out the stop, let it all drain and used the shower head to briefly spray her body and get rid of any remaining water, before stepping out of the bath. After drying her hair and her body with a towel she collected her clothes from the washing machine and put them into the clothes dryer.

She wiped her feet on the towel, wrapped another towel around herself and then walked out of the bathroom, through the kitchen towards the sofa, which looked very comfy right now. Heather debated trying to turn on the television, but as soon as she sat down on the sofa she realized how tired she was. Even the churning feeling in her stomach couldn’t keep her awake. She lay herself down, stuffed a pillow underneath her head, curled up on the sofa and was fast asleep before she knew it.

Heather woke up to an unfamiliar, ringing noise. Her eyes opened slightly. Light was filtering in through the curtains, so she figured she’d slept for quite a few hours, although she was still dead tired. She heard the ringing sound again and, in her confused state of mind thought she was receiving a call from the mob.

“You said I’d have most of the day off,” she moaned, pressing her face into the pillow. Then she threw it aside and got up, the towel sliding off her naked frame. The drowsiness quickly faded. During her time with the militia, there had been many nights where she’d been forced to get up and move, and sometimes even fight. She realized the sound had come not from the bathroom, where she’d left the phone behind, but from the door.

“Shit,” Heather said, reaching for the towel and wrapping it securely around her as she moved to answer the door. She undid the locks and opened the door slightly, peeking outside.

“Santino?” she said, recognizing the well-dressed young man she had met in the bar the day before instantly.

“The same,” he smiled, then frowned when he noticed the way she was dressed. To his credit, he looked back up to her face right away.

“Did I arrive at a bad time?”

“You woke me up,” Heather said flatly.

Santino chuckled. “It’s 11 AM.”

You have no idea what I went through, Heather almost said, but she bit back the words. Yesterday Santino and her had talked about ordinary things, normal things, not the hardships she had had to endure. It had been… refreshing.

“Nice place you’ve got here,” Santino said when she didn’t answer him.

“Well, it’s not mine,” Heather said, nevertheless giving the house a wary glance.

“How are you here? How did you find me?” she asked him before he could ask her about the house and how she got it.

“I returned to the bar and talked to the bartender, Josh I believe his name was? He told me where to find you. I never got to properly thank you for saving me from those thugs.” He scratched the back of his neck. “I’m a bit ashamed that I ran away, but to be honest I was more scared of you than I was of them,” he half-smiled.

Heather’s heart skipped a beat. Luckily Santino quickly broke the silence.

“Where did you learn to fight like that?”

I was a member of the European Militia for years. I’ve killed over a hundred men and I killed my first when I was five, Heather thought, but once again she thought better of actually saying it.

“I have good instincts,” she simply said. “I wasn’t happy that they interrupted us like that. I… enjoyed our talk.”

“So did I,” Santino said, once again showing his quick smile. His eyes flicked down to the towel for a split second. “I’m terribly sorry for being so rude, I shouldn’t just show up at your door like that. It’s just that you seemed a little lost and I thought you could use some help.

Heather wasn’t sure what he meant by that. “Umm…”

“It’s only your first day here, right? Would you mind if I showed you the city?” he asked.

“Why would you do that?” Heather asked, then paused when she realized that was sort of rude. “I mean… Sorry, it’s just that no one here has really been nice to me so far.”

“I can imagine. Not everyone here hates Europeans, though,” Santino said. “I could wait outside while you get dressed.”

“Fine,” Heather said, almost shutting the door, then she stopped herself. Damn it I’m bad at this, she thought. She opened the door fully, ignoring the scraping sound it once again made.

“No, you can come in,” she said, turning around and walking into the house. “You can watch the television while I go change. I can’t offer you anything though. Definitely no whiskey,” she said, smiling nervously over her shoulder. This was all new to her.

“That’s fine,” Santino said. “We can always get some later.”

“Sign me up for that,” Heather chuckled, before walking into the bathroom. Her heart was pounding rapidly. She wasn’t sure if it was such a good idea letting a man she barely knew into her house like this. Somehow him being so friendly towards her seemed to good to be true.

From the way he spoke it seemed he was well-educated, and she’d also noticed other things about him that made her think he was reasonably wealthy. The shirt and tie he wore, the expensive watch on his right wrist, his perfect teeth, his well-groomed, short hair, his clean shaven face and his slender physique, it were all signs pointing towards him being used to a life of relative comfort rather than one of hard work. Why would a man like him have any interest in her?

As she was splashing water into her face Heather told herself that she shouldn’t worry herself so much. She could probably kill him if he tried anything, and since he had seen what she was capable of, she doubted he would try anything. Then she froze, suddenly ashamed of her own thoughts about the situation. Stop. Just stop, she thought to herself, pressing her fingers against her temples. This guy is being nice and you’re already thinking about killing him! Sometimes her instincts made her feel like an animal rather than a human being, and perhaps, that was true.

Heather collected her clothes from the tumble dryer and put them on, enjoying the comfortable feeling of wearing clean clothing, but not much looking forward to going back to Santino in her ragged militia outfit. It was either that, put on the catsuit or go naked though, which made the choice easy. She pocketed the money (which she had hidden in one of the catsuit’s sleeves the day before) and walked outside. Santino was sitting in the dining room, looking at his cell phone, which he put away as soon as she entered the room again.

“I… didn’t have time to iron it,” Heather said, brushing her hands over the wrinkles in her shirt and trousers.

“We could go to some clothes stores,” Santino offered, noticing her apparent discomfort.

“I barely have any money,” Heather said. They’d never really spoken about her being a refugee, and she didn’t want to start that conversation, but she thought he must have figured out by now.

“Money is no problem,” Santino smiled. “We can find some stuff that’s affordable. You do need something to wear.”

Heather was more interested in food right now. Her stomach felt like it had been replaced by a black hole by now.

“I’d rather eat first,” she said plainly.

“Fine with me.” He looked on his watch. “It’s nearly lunchtime anyway. Come, I know a place,” he said, getting up and heading towards the door.

As she followed him outside Heather’s fists inadvertently clenched as she was once again not sure how to behave. Entering the unknown city, even with a supposed friend at her side, felt like entering enemy territory. Part of her wanted to just enjoy the moment and be happy good things were finally happening to her, but it was in her nature to be ever wary, to never drop her guard. She realized it was going to take her a lot of time to adapt to this new way of living.

Previous: Origin: Red Glaive (Part 9)
The rest of the ride continued without incident. Josh drove Heather along less busy roads to what looked at first glance to be a rather quiet neighbourhood. The townhouses on either side weren’t anything fancy, but the streets were clean and there were no unsavoury characters roaming about. If Heather was right – and she assumed that she was – the apartment Tony had offered her wasn’t the only building the mob owned on this street.

She held the keys Tony had given her clenched firmly in her hands while Josh drove the car up an empty driveway. The car stopped abruptly and made a sound akin to that of a dying cat as Jos Next:

Mature Content

Description

Heather didn’t know how much time she spent in the bath, but she realized she must have fallen asleep, because the washing machine was done and the water had become lukewarm. Her fingers were also extremely wrinkled. The remains of the shampoo and the soap she had used had accumulated into a crust at the top of the bath.

She pulled out the stop, let it all drain and used the shower head to briefly spray her body and get rid of any remaining water, before stepping out of the bath. After drying her hair and her body with a towel she collected her clothes from the washing machine and put them into the clothes dryer.

She wiped her feet on the towel, wrapped another towel around herself and then walked out of the bathroom, through the kitchen towards the sofa, which looked very comfy right now. Heather debated trying to turn on the television, but as soon as she sat down on the sofa she realized how tired she was. Even the churning feeling in her stomach couldn’t keep her awake. She lay herself down, stuffed a pillow underneath her head, curled up on the sofa and was fast asleep before she knew it.

Heather woke up to an unfamiliar, ringing noise. Her eyes opened slightly. Light was filtering in through the curtains, so she figured she’d slept for quite a few hours, although she was still dead tired. She heard the ringing sound again and, in her confused state of mind thought she was receiving a call from the mob.

“You said I’d have most of the day off,” she moaned, pressing her face into the pillow. Then she threw it aside and got up, the towel sliding off her naked frame. The drowsiness quickly faded. During her time with the militia, there had been many nights where she’d been forced to get up and move, and sometimes even fight. She realized the sound had come not from the bathroom, where she’d left the phone behind, but from the door.

“Shit,” Heather said, reaching for the towel and wrapping it securely around her as she moved to answer the door. She undid the locks and opened the door slightly, peeking outside.

“Santino?” she said, recognizing the well-dressed young man she had met in the bar the day before instantly.

“The same,” he smiled, then frowned when he noticed the way she was dressed. To his credit, he looked back up to her face right away.

“Did I arrive at a bad time?”

“You woke me up,” Heather said flatly.

Santino chuckled. “It’s 11 AM.”

You have no idea what I went through, Heather almost said, but she bit back the words. Yesterday Santino and her had talked about ordinary things, normal things, not the hardships she had had to endure. It had been… refreshing.

“Nice place you’ve got here,” Santino said when she didn’t answer him.

“Well, it’s not mine,” Heather said, nevertheless giving the house a wary glance.

“How are you here? How did you find me?” she asked him before he could ask her about the house and how she got it.

“I returned to the bar and talked to the bartender, Josh I believe his name was? He told me where to find you. I never got to properly thank you for saving me from those thugs.” He scratched the back of his neck. “I’m a bit ashamed that I ran away, but to be honest I was more scared of you than I was of them,” he half-smiled.

Heather’s heart skipped a beat. Luckily Santino quickly broke the silence.

“Where did you learn to fight like that?”

I was a member of the European Militia for years. I’ve killed over a hundred men and I killed my first when I was five, Heather thought, but once again she thought better of actually saying it.

“I have good instincts,” she simply said. “I wasn’t happy that they interrupted us like that. I… enjoyed our talk.”

“So did I,” Santino said, once again showing his quick smile. His eyes flicked down to the towel for a split second. “I’m terribly sorry for being so rude, I shouldn’t just show up at your door like that. It’s just that you seemed a little lost and I thought you could use some help.

Heather wasn’t sure what he meant by that. “Umm…”

“It’s only your first day here, right? Would you mind if I showed you the city?” he asked.

“Why would you do that?” Heather asked, then paused when she realized that was sort of rude. “I mean… Sorry, it’s just that no one here has really been nice to me so far.”

“I can imagine. Not everyone here hates Europeans, though,” Santino said. “I could wait outside while you get dressed.”

“Fine,” Heather said, almost shutting the door, then she stopped herself. Damn it I’m bad at this, she thought. She opened the door fully, ignoring the scraping sound it once again made.

“No, you can come in,” she said, turning around and walking into the house. “You can watch the television while I go change. I can’t offer you anything though. Definitely no whiskey,” she said, smiling nervously over her shoulder. This was all new to her.

“That’s fine,” Santino said. “We can always get some later.”

“Sign me up for that,” Heather chuckled, before walking into the bathroom. Her heart was pounding rapidly. She wasn’t sure if it was such a good idea letting a man she barely knew into her house like this. Somehow him being so friendly towards her seemed to good to be true.

From the way he spoke it seemed he was well-educated, and she’d also noticed other things about him that made her think he was reasonably wealthy. The shirt and tie he wore, the expensive watch on his right wrist, his perfect teeth, his well-groomed, short hair, his clean shaven face and his slender physique, it were all signs pointing towards him being used to a life of relative comfort rather than one of hard work. Why would a man like him have any interest in her?

As she was splashing water into her face Heather told herself that she shouldn’t worry herself so much. She could probably kill him if he tried anything, and since he had seen what she was capable of, she doubted he would try anything. Then she froze, suddenly ashamed of her own thoughts about the situation. Stop. Just stop, she thought to herself, pressing her fingers against her temples. This guy is being nice and you’re already thinking about killing him! Sometimes her instincts made her feel like an animal rather than a human being, and perhaps, that was true.

Heather collected her clothes from the tumble dryer and put them on, enjoying the comfortable feeling of wearing clean clothing, but not much looking forward to going back to Santino in her ragged militia outfit. It was either that, put on the catsuit or go naked though, which made the choice easy. She pocketed the money (which she had hidden in one of the catsuit’s sleeves the day before) and walked outside. Santino was sitting in the dining room, looking at his cell phone, which he put away as soon as she entered the room again.

“I… didn’t have time to iron it,” Heather said, brushing her hands over the wrinkles in her shirt and trousers.

“We could go to some clothes stores,” Santino offered, noticing her apparent discomfort.

“I barely have any money,” Heather said. They’d never really spoken about her being a refugee, and she didn’t want to start that conversation, but she thought he must have figured out by now.

“Money is no problem,” Santino smiled. “We can find some stuff that’s affordable. You do need something to wear.”

Heather was more interested in food right now. Her stomach felt like it had been replaced by a black hole by now.

“I’d rather eat first,” she said plainly.

“Fine with me.” He looked on his watch. “It’s nearly lunchtime anyway. Come, I know a place,” he said, getting up and heading towards the door.

As she followed him outside Heather’s fists inadvertently clenched as she was once again not sure how to behave. Entering the unknown city, even with a supposed friend at her side, felt like entering enemy territory. Part of her wanted to just enjoy the moment and be happy good things were finally happening to her, but it was in her nature to be ever wary, to never drop her guard. She realized it was going to take her a lot of time to adapt to this new way of living.

Previous: Origin: Red Glaive (Part 9)
The rest of the ride continued without incident. Josh drove Heather along less busy roads to what looked at first glance to be a rather quiet neighbourhood. The townhouses on either side weren’t anything fancy, but the streets were clean and there were no unsavoury characters roaming about. If Heather was right – and she assumed that she was – the apartment Tony had offered her wasn’t the only building the mob owned on this street.

She held the keys Tony had given her clenched firmly in her hands while Josh drove the car up an empty driveway. The car stopped abruptly and made a sound akin to that of a dying cat as Jos Next:

Mature Content