Phoenix Simpson [PUBLISHED]

10

Phoenix Simpson

Chapter 10

The dance studio was smaller than I imagined, but it made sense. This wasn't a huge space after all. The floors were made of polished wood and on one side was a wall of mirrors. I couldn't see the speakers from where I was standing, but I could see the woman who was dancing to the music that played. She was the only person in the room.

Her thighs were clad in dark leggings, and she wore a black sleeveless vest top. Her hair was long and braided, tied into a thick ponytail that followed her fluid movements. I wasn't sure what kind of dance this was, but her body moved as if she were a part of the music itself. I found myself simply standing there. She twirled her hips smoothly, a smile on her face as she lost herself in her solo dance. Every movement of her arms and her legs, even how she turned her head, was smooth and timed to the beat of the song. It seemed even the breaths she took, was in rhythm to the music.

I didn't realise when the song ended and she finished dancing. By the time I snapped out of my stupor, she was standing there looking right at me. I took in a breath and stepped back, about to leave for the toilet when she started walking towards me.

"Hey," she waved, smiling as she caught her breath.

I paused. It would be too rude to walk away now. Normally I wouldn't waste a second, but if I was to work here, then I didn't want to give Jazz a reason to end it before it started. She could even be his girlfriend for all I knew.

"Hi," I grunted when she came to stop in front of me, about a meter between us.

Seeing her up close, I immediately noticed beneath the sheen of sweat, the large portion of puckered skin across her chest. The same kind of scars that Jazz had on his hands. Maybe from the same fire.

"I'm Ama," she stuck a hand out to me.

I frowned at it briefly, before reluctantly shaking her hand.

"Phoenix."

"I know," she replied, letting her hand fall back to her side. "Jazz told me about you."

I arched a brow, slightly curious.

"What did he say?"

Ama smiled again, and I narrowed my eyes at her. What the hell was Jazz saying about me behind my back?

"He said he doesn't know much about you, apart from the fact that you were Eddie's cellmate," Ama shocked me by saying. "But that he'd like to help you out. He knows how hard it can be for ex-convicts to get jobs."

"Has he been to jail?" I frowned. "Jazz, I mean?"

"No," she surprised me again. "But we know people who have."

"Like Eddie," I murmured.

"Like Eddie," she nodded, sighing softly.

"How did you know him?" I asked after a pause.

This time Ama dropped her gaze.

"He was my boyfriend," she answered.

"Oh," I creased my brows, trying to remember if Eddie had ever mentioned her.

It was too long ago to recall. Or at least, in my mind I must have shut away those conversations like I did with a lot of my memories in jail.

"He was a good guy," I said with difficulty.

I didn't like thinking about it, but I couldn't deny it was true. Yes, Eddie was a criminal. But so was I. So was nearly everyone in there. And out of the other inmates, we weren't the worst of the bunch. Far from it.