Omerta - Ch 11, Pg 29, 10/Sept

The water splashed on her chest and back as she twirled and jumped in a rhythm synchronous with six other girls. A namesake veil was weaved through the belt loop and crossed her chest and hung from her right shoulder scrunched up and dripping with water. With every sway of her hips the open ended veil twirled and twisted and hung behind her like obsessive lover. As a finishing move she held the pole with one hand and arched back as far as she could, her chest heaving, lips parted and eyes closed. Her free hand hung around lazily and caught the end of the veil in process.

Music stopped and her final pose drove the people around the unaffected by fake-rain area crazy with claps and boisterous name calling. She stretched back and opened her eyes to see men with leering smile and lusty eyes surrounding the dance area. Her eyes caught silhouette of a man sitting alone at a table, the lamp lighting his face as he brought his elbows to rest on the table. She blew a kiss in general direction after which the lights in dance area dimmed and died. The collective groan of men around brought a smug smile on her face as she turned walked back to the changing area dragging her soaked body briskly; she hated the low waist clinging wet dark jeans and white blouse.

As she changed to her street clothes her mind dragged her back to the man whom she had seen in the lounge area. Skoda was an exclusive bar where entry was on invitation only and she was one of their main dancers. The man was sitting at the same table as he had done for the past five weeks at every instance he visited the place. She initially thought that he had his eyes on Mallika, the biggest attraction of Skoda and a deadly dancer when water turned on and lights dimmed but she had this tiny feeling that he was probably there looking at her given how he sat at watched the performance from that table even when Mallika wasn't performing.

Added to that, she had caught him staring at her unabashedly few times. He hadn't leered at her or pounced on her demanding or requesting her company for the night but he simply watched her. She didn't know what to make of his staring and she didn't want to bring it up with Eman, her manager of sorts. She had casually told Mallika about the man and prodded her gently for information. Mallika had perked up at the aspect of being sought out by the man and had put in extra twirl and additional swoosh in her dance the next day. The man's eyes held the same steel as the previous day – unwavering and glinting.

She knew who he was, of course.

And that made her head ache.

Once she finished changing to black turtleneck and black jeans, she bid hasty goodbyes to other girls who were in adjacent lockers and walked out of the property taking an exit meant only for staff. These dancers rarely made it to the main area unless there was some sort of party going on and they were filling as waitresses. She wasn't particularly fond of the area given how everyone in the city knew how crime was active there but she didn't let it bother much. Like usual she hid herself in shadows her clothes providing a perfect camouflage. Once she was satisfied with the traffic and the people on the street, she started to walk in the direction of her home, her eyes scanning the road ahead of her in a quick pace. She had to forgo her regular route which provided her with ample light and decent traffic – at least as decent as it can get at two in the morning, when she saw a drunken brawl turning ugly and particularly nasty. The alternate route was much shorter than her regular route but it was a deserted alley with very little light. Though it was well known around the area that no one really ventured to that alley, she presumed there still was a high possibility that broke drunkards and odd criminals took solace from the world and hung around that alley. She knew she could fight them off or just sprint really fast across the alley and avoid the whole encounter thing.

Five minutes into the alley, she first felt it – the feeling of being followed.

Something heavy, like lead perhaps, settled in her stomach when the thought first crossed her mind. She initially brushed it off as her paranoia but the second time she heard it – the slightest whisper of footfalls, she knew that she was being followed. And the person wasn't some random groper who went to bar or a drunkard looking for a quick release; there was patience, calmness, confidence and a specific goal.

She was being hunted.

She quickened her pace as her lithe body slithered in darkness hoping to get out of the alley in one piece and away from the predator. She was ten feet away from the exit of the alley when a strong arm snaked around her waist and slammed her to the wall on her left. Streetlight from the end of alley shone brightly and a man's silhouette formed in front of her.

She winced at the contact of her back on the wall and before she could recover from that shock, the man pressed his left palm on her throat effectively choking her. He thrust gun her mouth and slightly relaxed his hold on her throat. She was completely under his mercy now.

A stream of light separated them. She didn't have it in her to move forward and see the perpetuator and he chose to hide in shadows.

She stopped wriggling and removed her hold on his wrist. She had clutched his wrist hard to remove it from her throat but he hadn't relented. Her arms lay on her side and her posture relaxed. She knew that her perpetuator wanted to keep her alive for the moment that's why he hadn't shot her as soon as they were in middle of alley. And if she really were to die in his hands tonight, then so be it.

The man sensed her body relaxing making him shift his feet. Grown men begged for mercy and cried for freedom when he held their throat and put a gun in their mouth. But the girl had done no such thing. He moved into the stream of light at the same time bringing her into the light too.

He swallowed discreetly at the sight.

It was her eyes.

They held a maniacal calm.

"Geet," he said. If she recognized him, she didn't show.

Had he observed her closely, he would have seen the tiniest curl of her lips which along with gun between them mouthed his name.

"Maan."

To be continued.

Music companion for the day: Weight of the world by Black Rebel Motorcycle Club