Dancer by Emma Clark Page B

and thrust it in his face. "Here's our son, Chase. Isn't he beautiful?"
    Icy eyes glared in the midst of tense quiet. He didn't even blink for Christ's sake, nor did he bother to glance at the scan. He just refused to acknowledge his baby's presence as if he felt absolutely nothing for his own flesh and blood.
    Did he care for no one? No one at all?
    What kind of man was he? Oh. How could I forget. Sadly I knew exactly what kind of person he was. 
    I got a grip on my emotions and said, "You're so cute, giving me the silent treatment."
    Stoic expression.
    "Oh, I know. You want to feel my stomach, don't you? Well here you go." I advanced until my gut hovered in his face.
    Chase didn't move, not that he could anyway.
    "Oh that's right." I nodded and feigned a frown. "You can't move your hands. That's too bad, isn't it?"
    His glare didn't waver as he said, "Fuck you, bitch."
    Finally a reaction! And I laughed and laughed.
    In awful truth, I laughed to avoid crying. I backed up and retreated, dropping the sonogram photo along the way.
    Fuck you, bitch. His cruel words were Caleb's, blaring like alarms in my ears.
    Once inside the hallway, I clutched my chest and permitted myself to breathe.
    Only then did I feel safe enough.
    * * * *
    I sat at the kitchen table and nibbled a Swiss cheese sandwich saturated with mustard. In the meantime I heard loud complaints coming from upstairs.
    " I'm fucking starving! Get me something to eat! " Chase bitched as if he knew I was eating.
    Not only was he The Dancer, he was Chase/Satan/The Psychic. On the other hand it was dinner time.
    Pleasantly apathetic, I continued eating. Yes. I'd simply learn to tune him out.
    God I love Swiss cheese and mustard—
    "BITCH!"
    Startled, I dropped the final bite and the jagged chunk landed by my toes. Crumbs scattered.
    Damn you, Chase .
    Sighing, I slowly rose and snatched the first edible thing I could find: A black as night, three-week-old banana nestled within a bowl on the counter. I scooped up the squishy piece to examine it.
    Smelling like a thousand bananas stuffed in one, the fruit's surprisingly sweet aroma met my nose.
    I rushed upstairs, burst in on Chase while he indulged in a tantrum.
    "If you don't shut up, I'm going to gag you with this thing instead of feeding it to you." I stormed to his bedside, wielding the banana like a rotten, organic weapon.
    "Just give it to me. I'm fucking starving." He jerked on the ties that bound him to the barred headboard, stretched his muscular arms painfully taut.
    "You must be starving if you're willing to eat this nasty shit. Here." I peeled and shoved the darkened fruit toward his mouth. "Take a bite even though you deserve to starve."
    He practically inhaled the fruit, his bright teeth biting uncomfortably close to my fingertips.
    " Mmm ... so damn good." He polished it off in two huge bites; the banana, that is. For a second he heaved as if the potentially horrid flavor had caught up with his taste buds. However he made a quick recovery, relaxed and closed his eyes.
    The disgusting, mushy, pleasant-smelling meal brought a healthy flush to his stupid cheeks.
    For fuck's sake, the man appeared more radiant than I did.
    "Can I have a drink?" he snapped, never quite satisfied. Ever.
    Jesus Christ.
    I went downstairs to get a Coke and straw, then returned out-of-breath.
    He glared as he sipped Coke through the straw. Dark liquid flowed up to his puckered lips and his Adam's apple bobbed as he gulped. 
    This strange situation was getting—stranger.
    I no longer recalled a time when life had been remotely normal. Nope. Hell, this shit was the new normal. Seemed centuries ago was the last time things resembled a hint of normalcy. Forever ago in a faraway exotic place—where I currently wished to be instead of stuck here with this spoiled motherfucker.
    "I feel like a baby, some invalid who can't even feed himself," he griped.
    I flashed him a sneer and withdrew the soda. "Yeah and just think—I'll have plenty