Dangerous Dancer

“So, it was all hearts and flowers in the beginning, until he had you right where he wanted you then?” He retorted.

I closed my eyes and threw my head back into the couch. Nikoli was right, it was all hearts and flowers until the night he slipped that ring onto my finger. “Yes,” I whispered.

“Within a day, the little suggestions started. First, it was my

hair color, my makeup, my choice of clothes. He expected me to stay in on the nights we didn’t see each other and dutifully I would, because I loved him.”

“You are aware that when you dated him he was preying on your vulnerability, molding you with manipulation and control into the person he wanted?”

“Not at first, no. I thought it was because he loved me and wanted me to be a better person. You have to remember, Nikoli, Max is twenty years older than me, I wanted to change myself for the better, for him so he could have a girlfriend, fiancé, wife to be proud of.”

Nikoli stood up and took a swig from the vodka bottle. “When did things change?”

“Our wedding day was the first time I saw the ugly side to Max. He had hidden his temper from me well up until then. I’d failed to tell him I couldn’t dance and needless to say, I’d embarrassed the hell out of him with our first dance and he dragged me from the room and tore strips out of me, screaming and shouting at me at his embarrassment.”

“That right there, should have rung alarm bells, Myshka!” Nikoli ground out as he pointed his finger at me.

“I thought you said you wouldn’t judge!” I growled, sitting upright.

“I’m not judging, I’m merely stating a fact that that public display of anger should have triggered alarm bells in your head. Let me guess, he ignored you for several hours, let you wallow in the blame he had laid at your feet until you felt so bad that eventually you made up in the bedroom?”

My narrowed eyes widened as I watched him pace back and forth, muttering in a language I couldn’t comprehend but I would guess it was Russian. “I know the pattern of men like him, fucking bullies, that’s what they are. Bullies,” he snapped.

My eyes followed him around the room and concern suddenly swam through me as he raked a hand through his mop of dark hair in an angry manner. “I watched the way you changed when Max turned up at Latin, Raine. You became a different person. Your smile faded, the spark in your eyes extinguished, your whole-body demeanor wilted and sagged. Does he have that much control over you?” He asked coming to a standstill, swiftly, he turned to face my direction.

“How dare you!” I snapped as I rose to my feet, “you don’t know what I have to live with or why—!”

“Don’t I?” He bellowed, “you’re wrong, so wrong.” He fell silent and his eyes rolled towards the ceiling. He looked like he was mentally chastising himself as he drew his lips into a thin, firm line.

“Why am I wrong?” I whispered as I took a few small steps towards him. My body began to tremble when the reason behind his move to Manhattan became prevalent in the forefront of my mind. His father.

His head dropped towards the floor and he began to chew on his bottom lip in contemplation. “I know what you’re going through and I know the signs because I saw it all with my mother. She suffered at the hands of my father, the same way you are suffering at the hands of Max.”

“Oh, my God,” I muttered, continuing to take a few more steps towards him. “What happened to her, Nikoli?”

“She couldn’t leave him, every time she tried he would talk her round, be nice to her for a few days, make her feel loved and special again then he would slip back into his usual pattern. We were always her main reason, she didn’t want Petra and I growing up in a broken family. She stayed with that tyrant because of us, because of her god damned principles and values.”

I felt my heart constrict in my chest as I watched him turn from the strong, handsome man I knew him to be, to resemble a small, fragile boy in seconds as he fought to battle against his emotions. His eyes brimmed with tears, his body shook and he looked at me helplessly, “She killed herself, the mental torture she sustained harmed her more than the physical abuse,” he whispered. “She gave up.”

I closed the remaining gap between us in an instant and drew him into my arms, “I’m sorry,” I whispered. His arms coiled around my waist and his tear-stained face sunk into the crook of my neck. “I don’t want this life for you, Myshka. I don’t want you to end up like my mother.”

My eyes closed as he pulled me down towards the floor, our arms still wrapped around each other, “You have to break away from him, Raine. You need to leave him. Every minute you’re in that relationship with him, is another minute you’re in danger.”

I swallowed hard trying to stop my own tears from falling, “I will, I will leave him,” I whispered.

His head slowly moved from the crook of my neck and his thumb and forefinger pinched my chin as he coaxed me to look at him, “I’m not joking. What you have with Max is not a life, it is an existence. You deserve be the center of someone’s world, to be put on a pedestal and worshipped, to know what it’s like to be really loved, wholeheartedly,” he whispered and with his thumb he grazed back and forth under my chin.

His eyes broke from mine and lingered on my lips. “I already made my decision yesterday when he showed up at Latin. This past week, since I’ve known you, it’s changed something inside of me. You’ve made me feel alive, you’ve made me feel things I’ve never really felt before, that he has never made me feel before. I don’t want to be with him anymore,” I replied with conviction.

My lips pulled upwards into a smile when my head finally fell in line with my heart at my decision. Now that I had said it aloud and shared it with someone, it felt real, it felt final and I was beginning to feel a small sense of unburdening. “When?” Nikoli questioned, as his smile grew to match my own.

“I can’t do it yet, I need a plan. I need to get money together, find somewhere to stay.”

Nikoli’s face suddenly grew dark and his smile died. He shook his head. “Excuses already, Myshka?” He grunted.

“What? No, no!” I implored. I pushed myself away from him and staggered to my feet, “I can see it sounds like that, but I can’t just leave like that. I need a couple of weeks, I need money, find a roof to live under…I need a plan.”

He pushed to his own feet and grabbed my hands in his, “You can stay here with me. I’ll take the couch and you can have the bed or if you’re not comfortable with that, Petra can put you up in the interim, that’s one problem solved.”