Page 124 of Redeeming the Villain
It would be horrible to know that the only reason I qualified was because he liked me. I want my music to be cherished and loved solely because of the music, not because of who I am.
So, until I hear that I won’t be performing, I’ll keep practicing as if I am.
I get lost in the sound, transporting myself to a different world as I perform the piece in my room, the only audience member being Sunny. But she listens intently nonetheless.
KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!
My hands freeze, and I inhale sharply as I’m yanked back to the present.
Who the hell would be knocking on my door this late?
Standing from my piano bench, I walk to the door and peek through the hole. The air thickens, and my hand fumbles for the doorknob.
Soaked head to toe, Malik stands there, his face pulled down and his eyes red and puffy.
When I throw the door open, he looks up at me, and I watch everything inside of him crumble to pieces.
Backing up, I make room for him, and he bounds through the threshold, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me tightly into his chest.
The water soaks through my clothes, but I don’t care. All I care about right now is him.
Brushing his hair back from his face, I look up at him as my eyes burn. I’ve never seen him like this … not even close.
But whatever he’s going through, he came to me, and I’ll do everything in my power to eliminate whatever or whoever is making him feel this way.
“Malik, talk to me. Please,” I whisper, wiping the tears and rain from beneath his eyes. “I’m right here.”
He cups my face and crashes his lips to mine, passionate and raw. He places his heart and soul in the palm of my hand. “I love you. No matter what comes next, I love you. Not the world, not your father—nothing will ever change that. If I can’t be by your side, then I don’t want to be here at all.”
Every breath is painful and sharp, thanks to my uncle’s fists from earlier tonight. But I don’t care how many times he hits me as long as he never touches Micah again.
“How about some ice cream, huh? I snuck a few bucks from my teacher’s purse.”
I pinch Micah’s cheek, and he gasps in shock at the confession of my crime.
“That’s not nice, Malik! It’s not yours,” my little brother says, looking up at me with big purple eyes.
“I’m just teasing. I found the bills lying on the sidewalk. It was an unlucky day for someone, but really lucky for us,” I lie, knowing he won’t enjoy the ice cream as much if he thinks I stole the money to pay for it.
“Can we go to SB Ice cream?” he asks, as if that’s not the one I take him to every time I have enough money to bring him.
I nod. “Nothing less than the best for you.” I rub his black hair, messing it up.
“Double chocolate swirl?” He beams.
“With chocolate sprinkles, of course,” I say, finishing his order for him as we tiptoe down the stairs toward the front door.
Our uncle passed out from his bottles an hour ago, giving us the only free time we ever have. And I’m capitalizing on it tenfold. I have to; it’s the only time I get to see Micah really smile.
Stepping over the piles of trash and bottles, I take his hand and lead us out of the front door.
“Malik, guess what,” he whispers excitedly.
“What?” I ask, looking down at him.
“I’m so excited,” he cheers as the front door closes behind us.
Messing up his hair with my hand, I chuckle as we turn down the sidewalk to head to SB’s.
