Until The Trial

Chapter 5

***Chapter 5-Part one***

Samantha

The house is exactly what she imagined and mediocre family suburban home to look like. It's the type of house that would be perfect to raise a child in. A house big enough for a kid to run in, but not so big it would be hard to clean. With enough room, should the child get lonely and want siblings. One day she will have enough saved to buy such a house. Maybe not until her kid is already in the elementary level, but eventually she will. Lucas shows her to her room and then leaves her to go through all the things he got her and put them all away.

She notices that he barely ever talks unless spoken to first. He is a relatively quiet man, except when it comes to his job, then he is quite annoying. She understands he is going his job but it's annoying being told what to do all the time. If only she would have just taken the bus, or even better, prevented herself from getting robbed in the first place. Or not told them about the video. She'd wanted to help so much at the moment, she had forgotten about being pregnant. True, now she has a paid vacation, but no paid vacation is worth the life of her child.

After trying on the clothes Lucas got her, she finds they all fit her. She is a bit alarmed as to how he knows her sizes but doesn't care enough to ask. Then she settles into her comfy clothes. Feeling much better she debates whether to go cook something or not. Vaughn is coming over later and he has been pretty decent to her. So she will cook for him. She makes her way to the kitchen, but before she is there an aroma hits her nose. Unlike other foods' smells, this one doesn't make her nauseous. With a smile, she enters the kitchen, but it disappears when she sees Lucas doing the cooking. He nods at her in greeting.

"I was going to cook," she says trying to sneak a peek at what he's cooking. He gently pushes her away blocking her view. His over six feet height blocks her 5"4 easily.

"You were supposed to be resting. I'm starting to notice you don't like to stay still," he gives her a frown.

"No, I do not. Staying still seems useless when there is always so much to do."

"Well, that might be true for your regular daily life, but for now there is nothing to do here."

"What are you making?" she sniffs the air.

"Is it making you nauseous?"

"No," she admits, "Surprisingly it isn't. Most food does. What is it?"

"Habichuelas with white rice and tostones," he says.

"Habichuelas as in the bean paste?"

Lucas wrinkles his nose looking offended, "No I am making Puerto Rican style Habichuelas. It's more like soup texture but thicker and it has potatoes among other things. The tostones are fried plantains squished into circles."

"Oh, alright."

"Don't call my Habichuelas a bean paste," he turns back around.

"Pardon me," she says sarcastically.

"Front door," the house's alarm system says. Samantha jumps up from the bet chair.

"It's my brother," Lucas says.

"I smell mom's cooking!" a voice booms from the hall. Samantha sits back down and tries to relax as much as she can. She is safe where she is.

"Damn it not mom cooking," a large man appears at the door. His facial structure and body build is similar enough to Lucas's that he looks like his brother, but he has straight hair slicked back and brown eyes in contrast to Lucas's curly hair and blue eyes. His skin is also tanner. He looks at her in surprise.