REDEMPTION
Chapter 1
The roaring engine of a powerful motorcycle was the only sound to be heard in the still of the night, as the lone black clad rider drove precariously and recklessly at high speed through the dark. The single headlamp of the hurtling machine revealed the twisting path along the dusty desert road, with the small light precariously illuminating only a little way ahead. Occasionally the speeding tyres would bump over loose pebbles and stones, sending them skittering off sideways, or casting them backwards, far away from their original positions.
Cloud kept his head lowered, with his riding goggles down over his eyes as he peered intently into the blackness before him, trying to safely navigate his way. He didn't care about what lay ahead. He didn't care about what he'd left behind. All he knew was… he had to try and go fast enough, far enough, to eradicate the torment that raged within him.
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"Okay, time now. Come on you guys, the bar's closed. Drink up, fold up, and get the hell out. Go home to your wives and families!"
The young dark haired girl sighed after barking out her command. She wondered sometimes why she even bothered. Night after night it was the same old story of trying to get the punters to finish off their drinks and their card games, and just vacate the premises. It was late, and as always there was so much work to do before she could crash out in her own bed; glasses to be gathered and washed, tables to be wiped and cleaned, floors to be swept and polished, and overfilled ashtrays to be emptied. The toilets that the public used could wait until morning, as Tifa didn't think she had the stomach for it tonight. For some reason, she felt so tired. Tired of everything. It was almost as though her life was going nowhere, and the thought of spending forever doing these same tasks, day in and day out, left her asking if it were all worth it.
It had seemed such a good idea to invest in the building and start up her own business. The small town had been crying out for a tavern, a local meeting point where folk could come and drink and chat after a hard day's work. And the opening of the Seventh Heaven had proven to be a hit. But what Tifa had failed to realise, was just how hard her work was going to be; ordering, pick-ups, cleaning and serving. The chores seemed never ending some days. She'd had some help from a few friends that had rallied around in the beginning, becoming part-time bar staff and doormen with the reward of free drinks after their shifts, but now that business was blooming more, Tifa realised that she seriously needed to think about employing someone to help her on a permanent basis.
Once the last of the customers had been shooed out of the door, Tifa reluctantly put sleep on hold for another few minutes and reached under the bar for the taverns ledger. Sitting down at one of the glass cluttered tables with the book, she spent some time going through all the figures and at the end of it she reckoned she could afford to take on someone for a few hours each week. The pay wouldn't be great but then, the job she was paying for hardly required brains or brawn.
Standing up she went to her private quarters and, from a cabinet beside her bed, she pulled out some bright orange paper, a black marker pen, and a staple gun. Placing the items on top of the cabinet, she wrote upon the paper in large, bold letters, 'Help Wanted'.
Tapping the end of the pen against her front teeth, Tifa pondered what else to write. The pay wasn't really good enough to advertise, and neither were the working hours. And the tasks, though small, would be many. She needed someone to empty the slops from the liquid overflow trays, to wipe the floors and tables after all the customers had left, to collect and clean the used glasses... and to clean the toilets. Mainly, she just required someone to assist her after closing time so that she could get to bed earlier, and wake up later. Sighing, looking at the lateness of the hour on the ticking bedside clock, Tifa added simply beneath the first two words, 'Apply Within'.
Laying down the pen and taking the piece of brightly coloured paper, Tifa grabbed her staple gun and walked out of her room and towards the main front door. Opening it, she proceeded to pin the note to the wooden planks. Hopefully someone would see it come morning, and by tomorrow night she'd be in bed that much earlier.
Going back inside, she locked the door and began collecting all the dirty glasses and ashtrays, giving them just a quick swill. Tomorrow, after she woke, she would wash them properly. She just couldn't be bothered tonight.
Turning out the lights, Tifa made her way tiredly back up to her bedroom, where she looked at the empty bed and thought of Trey, her boy-friend, and his lean muscular body that sometimes lay there with her. She wished he didn't have to spend so much time away from her. Several months could pass with him being absent from her arms. But she understood the importance of him, 'needing space'. Or so she said to him. Undressing now, and huddling up in the cold lonely sheets, she wasn't so sure anymore.
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The morning dawned sunny and new, and Tifa awoke with a stretch and a yawn. Getting up, showering and dressing, she unlocked the main door and started on with her daily routine. She had all but forgotten about the sign she'd put out the night before… until the door flew open and a handsome blond youth, dressed all in black, walked through.
In the middle of restacking the glasses that would be filled with drinks later that night, Tifa had immediately turned around at the intrusion, and her deep brown eyes raked the newcomer from head to toe as he approached the bar. She was immediately taken with his looks; tall, slim, and stunningly attractive. She found her heart skipping a beat. In her mind, for just the briefest of moments, she imagined both of them naked, sweating, and rolling on her bed in the dead of night, their limbs entwined in passion.
The heel of his boots clunking on the wooden floorboards as he made his way closer across the room towards her brought Tifa's wayward thoughts back. "We're not open yet," she said, her voice a little brusque as she tried to cover up her sexual interest in him. And, to make sure he didn't see the lust on her face, she turned her back to him and focused on arranging the glasses in size order… something she had stopped doing just a few days after buying the place. But the sound of his hand slapping down upon the bar top caused her to glance back over her shoulder.
"Job's filled," the young man said.
Tifa stared down, and saw his gloved fingers covering the orange sign. The paper was ripped at the corners where he had pulled it from the door. "You seem rather sure of yourself," she commented dryly, looking now into blue eyes that seemed to have the power to hold her gaze.
"Not really," he replied stoically. "You have a situation vacant. I need a job. Put the two together, and we're both happy."
"You don't even know what the job entails," Tifa exclaimed, waiting impatiently for him to talk again, as his voice had sent shivers running up and down her spine. She didn't have to wait long for more shivers to begin.
"I don't much care what it is I have to do," the man said quietly after a small pause. "I'm pretty flexible. Can do most things. Heavy lifting. Maintenance…."
"You'll be cleaning out public latrines and mopping floors, as part of your duties," Tifa cut in. It was better she told him what sort of work was involved right at the beginning of their discussion, that way he could turn around and leave now, rather than draw it out, and she could spend the rest of the day daydreaming of, 'What ifs'.
There was a longer pause from the stranger, and then, "Okay. Cleaning toilets and mopping floors. Anything else?"
Tifa looked surprised. She had truly thought he would flatly refuse such chores. "Well, there'll be glasses to clean, tables to wipe. Basically, anything I can find to make life a little easier for myself at the end of the working day."
"So, you'd require me to work on the evenings then, right?" he asked.
"Is that a problem?" Tifa asked back, feeling him slipping out of her clutches.
"Nope. No problem," the blond answered.
Tifa narrowed her eyes. "Hey… if you're already employed somewhere else, I don't want you showing up late. It may be a crummy job I'm offering, but I want whoever I employ to take it seriou…."
"I'll take it. And no, I don't have any other job," he interjected, his eyes boring into hers. "I'll be yours. One hundred percent."
Tifa had to make several small swallows before she could get her voice to work. "Right then, name?" she asked, quickly reaching for the little notebook and pencil she always kept by the cash register. He hesitated, and when he answered, she felt sure he'd given her a bogus name. "Cloud huh?" she said sardonically. "O…k. If that's what you want to be known as. Address?" When he remained silent she looked up from her notepad to see him staring intently at her, and almost jumped a little when he touched at the notepad with his forefinger, jabbing at the name she'd just written down.
"That's 'Cloud' with a capital letter, 'C'," he corrected her. "And, 'Strife' has an 'r' in it."
What does it matter? Tifa thought to herself. It's not like it's your real name. Nonetheless, she used the eraser at the end of the pencil to scrub out the mistakes he'd said she'd made, and corrected the errors. "Address?" she repeated. Again he hesitated. And when Tifa lifted her gaze up from the notepad for a second time, she saw the worried look on his face. "Is there a problem?" she asked. "Have you forgotten how to spell the name of the place where you live?"
A sheepish boyish look graced his face, and Tifa suddenly felt bad for her jibe, even more so when he lifted a hand behind his head and admitted ruefully as he rubbed at his unusual spikey hair, "No, it's just… I don't have an address, unless you call sleeping up against the warm engine of my motorcycle at night, one."
"You have a motorcycle?" Tifa inquired excitedly. Having one of her own was something she was saving up for. The blond nodded. "Can I see it? Will you take me for a ride?"
"Can I have the job?"
Tifa quirked an eyebrow. "Are you blackmailing me?"
"Of course not. I'm just saying that, if you don't want me to have the job because I have no address, then I won't have time to take anyone anywhere, because I'll have to move on to the next town and hope to find work there," the man replied calmly.
Sucking on the end of the pencil, Tifa regarded him for a moment. Then, bending her head, she wrote in the notepad, Seventh Heaven. "There, now you have an address… Cloud," she stated, with a shy grin at using his chosen alias for the first time.
"I do?"
Reaching down underneath the bar, Tifa opened a drawer and pulled out a small bronze key, passing it across to him. "Welcome to your new job, and your new home. Here, let me show you to your room. It's just up over the stairs, on the first floor. Two doors away from mine," she emphasised, leading the way. "It's only a little box room, I'm afraid. But it's clean, and it's warm."
"What about my bike?" Cloud asked.
"What about your bike? It's not staying in the room with you! It can stay out in the back courtyard. I have a shed out there that you can store and lock it in. I'm sure it won't mind being parted from you during the hours that you sleep," Tifa replied with a laugh.
Cloud gave a low chuckle, liking the girl's sense of humour. "Thanks," he said.
Passing one closed door, Tifa explained it was their private bathroom, and instructed it be kept clean at all times, and then she nodded to the next closed door, indicating he was to use the key. "So, you think you'll be alright in here?" she asked, watching as he unlocked the door and went inside the room. Standing in the small space, his slim well-built body seemed to take up the whole area with his presence. Tifa cast a jealous look at the narrow single bed, thinking how lucky it was going to be having this handsome man laying upon it. "I'll get you some fresh bedding," she said, dragging her mind away from lustful thoughts before they started pulling her further in. "Will you be okay to start work tonight, say about, eleven thirty?"
"Yep," was his reply, leaving Tifa to guess if it was an answer to her first question, her second, or both.
As Tifa left the room to get the promised bedding, she thought about her on-off lover and found herself beginning to hope that, finally, he might be replaced with someone a little more permanent… and closer to home.
