Hear her roar


Zemira


After five days of being in the hospital, dad was discharged but with a condition. He needed to rest. Lots of rest.

Our family doctor had made it his life's mission to appoint a nurse for dad, ensuring he didn't run off to his study for work every now and then. Having found dad sneaking in to fetch his laptop in the wee hours of the morning, even I agreed to the doctor's consult.

They say that after certain age, parents act like children. I had a living example to prove the correctness of that theory. 

Even after suffering from a cardiac arrest, dad still raided the kitchen for something savory, still ran around the house and attended work calls.

"He's not there." The nurse's voice addressed my back while I scanned through the guest bedrooms. 

Guess who went missing again!

"Did you check his study? The washroom inside?" 

I turned around to the panting, flushed face of Nurse Hazel who, in her stout form had to do the herculean task of running around the house to search for the kid called dad.

With her nod, I walked ahead, focusing my anger and frustration on the ajar door of dad's study. 

"Dad," my voice echoed around. Nurse Hazel's footsteps retracted as soon as I stormed into the ill-lit room. "Dad."

After a brief silence, where my frustration peaked, dad's feeble voice answered. "In here."

It emerged from the washroom. The moment the door opened, dad's smiling face appeared before us. 

He waved at me, trying to hide the illuminated mobile screen from his cotton shirt's pocket. While Hazel moved to help him, lending her hand, my angered voice spiked.

"Let him be, Hazel. Give us a minute."

Setting her apprehensive expressions aside, Hazel smothered her concern. With a slow blink that pled me to go easy on him, she walked out.

My arms coiled over my chest, eyes fuming heat.

"You don't look good when you are angry, kiddo," dad said, walking around his desk and sliding into his chair. "How about we call it a compromise. I'll work for an hour daily and you can-"

"Enough." 

Frustration and anger weren't a good combination. Though dad sat smiling in front of me, all I could picture was him lying still on the hospital bed. Weak. Vulnerable. 

"You want to die, dad, then go ahead. Die. But don't you fucking keep telling me that you'd listen to me and run away the minute nobody's watching you."

Dad rose from his chair, but my palms flashed outwards, holding back his defense. 

"Don't you dare say you know what you've been through. No, you don't." Tears welled in my eyes. "You don't know how you looked in the hospital. You don't know how much it broke me and Kiara."

Dad wiped the corners of his face, shaking his head and taking his phone out of his pocket. In a slow and carefully calculated move, he walked over. Dad knew better than anyone not to touch me in my current state - fuming and ready to maul him.

"Kiddo," in a deflated tone, he answered. "I'm not defending what I did. I understand your frustration."

"You don't." 

I moved back.

"I do, trust me." 

He stood cemented in his position, looking for a way to convey what he wanted to say. The times when dad narrowed his eyes, looking around for words were those rare moments when I knew he channeled all his patience to not lash out.

Atleast one of us had to be the calm one.

"You think I don't know what a heart attack means?" Dad asked in a rhetorical tone, sliding on a couch and patting the side. I plopped beside him, peering at his fidgeting fingers. "I know I'm not supposed to take stress. I'm supposed to rest but I can't."

"Why? You think I can't handle everything in your absence."

My next line of defense was ready - to convey how I had set up everything to ensure our business functioned smoothly. 

Haley was in New York, taking up my role. I did the same here and helped dad with his recovery. Although I constantly failed in the second department, the first sailed smooth.

"I'm not doubting your business skills, kiddo. I'm done resting." With the determination of a teenager who was ready to rebel, dad rose from his chair. "I don't want to eat soup anymore. I don't want to sleep throughout and most of all, I don't want my daughter checking up on me as if I'm about to die."

"You were about to die," I rose, my tone too. "You think this is some kind of a joke, dad?"

"It's not. I know the seriousness of what I suffered. But I also know that I don't want to be treated like a vegetable, always in bed and being taken care of like a baby."

"You are being a baby right now..." My fingers gripped the root of my hair, irritation sparking my actions.

"Wow. wow... What did I land into?" It was Kiera's voice that emerged through the door before she walked in, eying me and dad in a fight of death. "Why are you screaming, Zem?"

"Because-" I began.

"Because my daughter thinks that resting would cure me," dad eyed me from the side, his body turning to the new judge in the room. "How are you Kiera?"

"Don't answer that," my finger danced across my friend's face, bridging our gap. "He's trying to lure you with his sweet talk."

Kiera, like me, crossed her arms across her chest. A smirk appeared on her face as she looked between me and dad. "Don't you think I know what he is upto?"

Thank god.

"And uncle." She faced him, her trimmed eyebrows bridging. "What did we discuss?"

"I'm still within that one hour mark," dad said.

"You knew about this?" My voice peaked, mouth dried. 

Dad and Kiera nodded as if they were the father and daughter duo, and I was some outsider brought to impose restrictions on them.

Without stating anything, I walked out of the room. 

Dad and Kiera's voice floated from behind, asking me to wait but I'd dashed to my room. Grabbing my stuff, I walked outside and drove to the office.

Only a few hours later, when meetings calmed me and I decided to see the reasoning in dad's words, did I dial Leo. 

He had gone back to New York to attend Amara's trial and to bring back Romeo. I expected Leo to avoid the trial. He had left the city to avoid his father and brother, so it came as a surprise when he agreed to attend the trial.

"Hey there, fiancé." Leo's voice made me smile.

"You won't believe what dad's been doing, Leo." Like always, I ranted. Like always, he listened. "He is flaunting the resting rule and Kiera is permitted him to use the phone for an hour. Can you believe that?"

Leo didn't answer. From what I could gather, he was laughing, palming the speaker.

"Glad to know my troubles entertain you," I said.

"It's not that, baby." His soft tone, one where he usually smiled and answered, emerged. "I'm understanding your situation. All I'm saying is cut the man some slack. I know how strict you become when it comes to rules."

"Really, Leo? I thought you'd understand, of all people."

Was my concern futile?

Without a word, dad's secretary rushed into the office, panting.

"Leo, hold on." I palmed the speaker, addressing her.

Her eyes were widened as if she saw a ghost. Before she could answer, the translucent glass door slid opened from the outside.

In flesh, Dave Brenton stood beside her. 

His hands slid into his pocket, stout gait peering at me as I rose from my chair. 

It was an understatement to make that the fresh air inside the office suddenly felt heavy, putrid. 

Dave tilted his head, leering at my older-than-dad secretary, who nodded and left at my instructions.

Though I tried appearing calm, my insides were melting. 

Since the assault, I had avoided Dave or Antonio. The rest of the attention was shielded when I moved away. But back in the turf, I faced the bull of a man who seemed readying to charge at me.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" I asked, courteously gesturing at the chair in front of me.

Thought I wanted to bash his head with the same chair for the way he ruined Leo's reputation, tarnishing his image by flooding trashy magazines with his failed mission stories, I had to act calm.

Dave didn't sit. 

The way he stood, shifting weight on his legs, I concluded his nerves. He knew any wrong move would make him subject to more scrutiny than he was under from Antonio's trial.

"I came here to ask about the case you've initiated," he said, crutching the back of the chair, leaning forward. "Aren't you scared to take us on, little girl?"

There were only a few times when I didn't feel scared. Once was when I saw Tag's casket. Another time when I braved through my depression and third - now.

"I don't know why I should be scared, Dave. It's not like I molested your son. Oh, wait. It's the other way round, righhtt?"

Dave smirked. His vile eyes glinted with an unspoken viciousness. 

"You're very clever, Zemira. So, is your father. First, he pretended to act like he wasn't aware of your arrangement with Anto. Then you trapped my firstborn."

"Trapped!" Unknowingly, I ended up clapping at his word which seemed to irk him. "Is that what Leo told you. Ahh, he didn't tell you anything. I completely forgot that your firstborn isn't even talking to you."

"Listen, girl." 

Dave's eyes reddening as he took another stop.

"If I was you, I'd better stay still." 

I moved around my desk, my lungs drinking up all the oxygen, my heart pumping blood at twice the speed. This was my moment, my time to let him know - I wasn't scared of his theatrics. 

"Dave, you think coming to my office, threatening me is going to work?" Everything since that vile Monday when I was assaulted till today, stormed up. "Your son made the biggest mistake, thinking he could touch me. Now, you and Antonio can sit and watch as I burn everything you owe, one by one."

Dave Brenton's nostrils fluttered, chest heaved. He wanted to do more - his hand twitch confirmed. I wanted him to. 

But he knew better than anyone, his weak case would become irredeemable had he even touched me even with words.

Turning on his heels, he walked away.

I fell on my chair. My hands shivered. My mouth dried and as if I forgot to breathe, I heaved for air.

"Zemira..." That familiar voice from the phone emerged.

Shit.

"Leo." I gripped the phone and placed it over my ears. "How much of it did you hear?"

He didn't speak for long. Then, in a gentle tone, Leo answered. "All of it."

I didn't realize till I heard his reply, I grappled with guilt. 

Leo was still recovering from his trauma. I should have known better to end the call. 

Seeing Dave triggered my fight response that I forgot where I stood, what I did.

I wasn't a scared girl who ran away from confronting him. I was the girl who wanted revenge. For what Antonio subjected me to. For what Dave did to Leo. 

For how that vile man had almost ruined my relationship with Leo.

"I'm so sorry, Zem." Leo's feeble voice answered. "I should've been there." He cleared his hoarse voice but it didn't help. "I shouldn't have left you there alone. Dave... I should have known better... of his dirty games."

"He didn't succeed, Leo." I tried pushing away my fear, the shock my body underwent since seeing Dave in my office. I shoved it all away to answer. "He might have come to scare me but he couldn't."

Leo sighed. A soft hmm emerged from his end. 

"Dave didn't calculate one thing when he came to meet you."

"What's that?"

"You aren't the girl he met a year ago." Pride tipped his voice. "You're a lioness that he underestimated. My strong woman who couldn't be scared."

~

And there we have, the beginning of the ending


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