by Holly Rayner
The men who stood on either side of him wore all black, their faces covered, all much larger in stature than the man who was clearly in charge.
“My dear brother,” the man in the white shirt said, waving his hands dramatically. He took a deep bow, his slender legs not bending, his forehead nearly touching the ground. “Welcome, welcome, to my humble abode. Please excuse the mess. We are still in the process of setting up our operation here. We’ve just moved in, after all.”
Jenna felt Balal tense beside her, and when she looked at him, she saw that his hands had clenched into fists.
“Ahmad,” Balal said, and his voice cracked.
Jenna winced. The pain was obvious.
Ahmad, his head cocked to the side, laughed in a short, simple exhale.
“I imagine that you must be feeling a lot of things,” Ahmad replied, taking a step toward Balal, his hands clasped behind his back. “It’s been, what, three years since we saw each other last?”
Balal stared down at him, and Jenna watched as his back straightened and his shoulders squared.
“I’ve made plenty of attempts to contact you, brother,” Balal replied. “I tried looking for you. I have been looking for you.”
“Oh, spare me the mush,” Ahmad replied, waving his hand as if to wave off an annoying fly. “It was halfhearted at best. Admit it. You made a few phone calls and then gave up. If you really wanted to find me, you’d have kept looking.”
“I didn’t want to put anyone in danger,” Balal countered. “I knew the sort of men you had dealings with. I didn’t want to get anyone involved who didn’t need to be.”
“Oh, really?” Ahmad said, and then, without looking at her, he pointed at Jenna. “What about her? You bring her to the lair of the figurative beast, unarmed and unprotected?”
Balal’s hand twitched, and she wondered if he was going to pull his gun.
“I just wanted to talk to you,” Balal said. “I didn’t want to leave things the way we had.”
“Oh, you mean when you spent my inheritance?” Ahmad replied, but his cool demeanor was gone. His voice rose, and his brow knitted together in an angry line. He glared at Balal, and a wicked grin grew on his lips. “My dear, selfish brother, taking all of Mother and Father’s money, and blowing it!”
He was yelling, and his voice echoed harshly off of the walls.
“I know, and I was wrong,” Balal pleaded. “I was so wrong. But I made the money back, tenfold, and I wanted to share it with you, brother. My business should have been our legacy. I wanted to share it all with you.”
Ahmad threw back his head and laughed. The sound was hollow and made Jenna’s skin crawl.
“Ha!” he finished, pointing a finger at his brother. “I didn’t need you, or them! Look at me now! I’m on the top of the world, brother. I have all of the money I want, all of the women I want, and no one can stand in my way!”
“But look what it took to get you there!” Balal retorted. “Look at the life you’ve resorted to! Swindling, stealing, human trafficking!” He clasped a hand over Jenna’s shoulder. “This woman right here was one of those women.”
Ahmad arched an eyebrow, and his lips pursed together curiously.
“Is she, now?” Ahmad remarked, as casually as if Balal had mentioned a storm coming later that day. “And quite the specimen she is; she surely would have brought in a handsome sum.”
Balal took a protective step in front of Jenna, shielding her.
Ahmad laughed again and clapped his hands together. “Oh, I see. You purchased her for yourself, did you? And yet, you come down here and try to accuse me of doing wrong? Oh, Balal, how far have you fallen?”
“It’s not like that—” Balal insisted, but Ahmad’s laughter cut him off.
“Brother, you seem to think that I was somehow coerced into this way of life, or convinced of it.”
Jenna could see a nasty glint in the younger man’s eye, and she recoiled.
“You think that I don’t enjoy it, or that perhaps I have come to regret my decisions. But I can assure you, I am of sound mind and body, and am perfectly at peace with the lengths I have gone to in securing my fortune. Trust me, I have not lost any sleep over it.”
“But how could you?” Balal pleaded. “Did your life growing up mean nothing to you? Did Mother and Father mean nothing to you?”
“Silence!” Ahmad shrieked, and the room fell silent. The only sound Jenna could hear was the hum of the lights overhead and the pounding of her own blood in her ears.
“You will not speak of them here!” Ahmad hissed. “You, who thoughtlessly took the money they gave you, regardless of what that meant for me!”
“And what would you have done with it, huh?” Balal retorted, his voice rising. “Taken it all and spent it?”
The tension was building, and Jenna knew that it would soon come to breaking point. She felt the sweat start to build up on her palms, and took a shaky breath to try to steady herself.
Balal was still standing partially in front of her, so she slowly, ever so slowly, reached around into her back pocket. The other men, Ahmad’s guards, were paying attention to the brothers fighting, and both of their attentions were on each other, not her.
But if she made too much movement, then Ahmad and his guards would see her, and they would not hesitate to stop her. She had to be stealthy if this was going to work.
Jenna located her cell phone in her pocket, and felt around for the side of it. When she located the power button, she felt a small rush of relief, and she pressed it four times in quick succession. This, she knew, would activate the emergency contact alert that she and Adina had set up as a precaution, in case things went south.
She knew that as soon as the alert was sent, Adina would receive a notification, along with her location.
Adina’s words rang through her head.
“Anything goes wrong, you send to me. I do the rest.”
Jenna hoped that Adina would be quick to act. The image of Adina’s smiling face, the concerned expression in her eyes, had assured Jenna that she would follow through.
Help is on the way, Balal. Just keep him talking for a few more minutes.
“You cannot hide yourself from me, Ahmad,” Balal cried. “I know you. You are my own flesh and blood, and I know you are just running from what you really feel about all of this!”
“You must be out of your mind!” Ahmad replied. “Did you not hear anything I just told you? I regret nothing! I am living like a king, and it’s all because of what I did to get here!”
“You could still live like a king, if you were to leave all of this behind and come home!” Balal insisted, the desperation clear in his voice. “I could get you the protection you’d need from all of your so-called friends. You could start over—”
“Start over? Balal, you really have no idea who you are talking to, do you? The underbelly of Al Mezinda bows to me. No one can touch me; if people don’t respect me and do my bidding, they die. It’s just business,” Ahmad said, then shrugged his thin shoulders.
The cold way that he spoke made Jenna’s hatred flare in her, and she was again reminded that he was the man responsible for her kidnapping. For a moment, she didn’t care that he was Balal’s brother. He could rot in jail for all she cared.
Balal made a sound of disgust.
“You can beat around the bush all day, but that doesn’t change the fact that you are still you, deep down, somewhere.”
“Oh?” Ahmad retorted, his eyes and face spewing sarcasm. “And how have you come to that conclusion?”
Balal sighed heavily, and then gestured up over his head.
“What, have you found God now, brother?” Ahmad sneered.
“Perhaps,” Balal replied, “but I was referring to this place. You chose it, correct?”
Ahmad’s expression changed quickly, from mirthless humor to stone cold and calculating.
Balal nodded. “I knew you did. Do you know why? Because I remember.”
“
You remember what?” Ahmad questioned, but his voice was less stable than it had been a moment before.
“I remember the afternoon our father took us to this very park and told us about this very bunker. He told us it was like a secret city beneath our very feet, and how if anyone ever wanted to be safe and protected, they could come here.”
Ahmad’s jaw tightened, and Jenna saw him swallow, his face paling.
“And I remember how we used to play as children in the yard, pretending to be soldiers with a secret hideout here, in this bunker. The drawings on the inside of our treehouse were so detailed that I think that is all we thought of for much of our childhood. Father would encourage us with stories about brave men who used the bunker we had created in our imaginations. I think he rather liked that we loved something he had showed us so much.”
Balal’s brother worked his jaw and crossed his arms across his chest. The breaking point was approaching, and quickly. Jenna swallowed nervously, but her throat was dry.
“And do you know what else I remember?” Balal asked, his voice calm and steady. He was much more confident now. “I remember the night I came home and found the statue our parents had given me, smashed into thousands of pieces. I remember the anguish I felt at knowing it was more than a random act of violence by a brother who was grieving. No, it was a deliberate act, made to shake me to my core.”
Ahmad had lowered his hands to his sides, and Jenna saw that they were clenched into fists.
“What would Mother and Father think of you now, Ahmad? Do you think they would be proud? Their youngest son, who they loved so dearly. What would they think?”
Jenna felt she could have heard a pin drop in the room.
“And what of me?” Balal continued. “I know that my brother is in there somewhere, and that he still lives.”
Ahmad let out a wail—of pain, or anguish, or fear—Jenna didn’t know, but it was loud and startling. In the same moment, he reached behind himself and pulled out a small firearm. Sleek, black—something that a mob boss would carry in a movie.
And he pointed it directly at Balal.
The whole room froze.
“You cannot change me with your honeyed words,” Ahmad yelled, his face blood red, spit flying from his mouth. “I will not be broken!”
And then, he pulled the trigger.
Jenna must have known what was coming, because as soon as Ahmad said the word broken, she reached over and shoved Balal as hard as she could. He was a sturdy man, and the motion barely moved him, but it was enough to push him off-kilter.
Balal collided with the ground, and the bullet missed his center. But it didn’t matter. Blood had begun to blossom like a flower in his side.
Chapter Fourteen
“No!” Jenna yelled as she threw herself down at Balal’s side. She didn’t care that Ahmad was still pointing a gun in their direction and could easily fire the rest of his rounds directly into her back.
He never had the opportunity, however, for suddenly, there was the sound of shouting from somewhere not far away.
Jenna looked over her shoulder; the door to the ladder out of the bunker was still open.
“You fools!” Ahmad cried, shoving his gun into its holster. “You didn’t have the sense to close the door? Hurry! Do it now!”
But before they could close the door, three policemen dashed inside, rifles and flashlights held aloft, the light fixated on Ahmad.
“Freeze!” the men shouted in Arabic.
Adina, you blessed, wonderful woman. I will kiss you the next time I see you!
Knowing that the policemen were shielding her and Balal from Ahmad, Jenna looked back down at the Sheikh.
“Balal, you’re hurt!” Jenna said, leaning as close to him as she could. The sharp scent of blood, sweat, and fear filled the air.
“I’m fine,” Balal stuttered, but it was obvious he was in great pain. His hands hovered over the spot where the bullet had hit him, and his eyes were closed tightly in pain. He winced, and tried to sit up.
“No, no, stay down,” Jenna insisted, seeing a fresh gush of blood shining on his side. “Don’t move. You need to lie still.” She could feel tears stinging her eyes.
More policemen had come into the room now, and were making their way through the rest of the bunker. Apparently, Ahmad had made a run for it.
Where are the EMTs? Jenna wondered, growing impatient. She was no doctor, but it seemed like Balal was losing a lot of blood.
Five excruciating minutes passed before anyone got down to them. A few police officers tried to get Jenna to go outside, but she hollered and yelled at them, desperate to stay with the Sheikh. The gunshot itself might not have been fatal, but the wound would be if he didn’t get to a hospital soon.
“Jenna,” Balal breathed. His eyes were closed, and he wasn’t moving.
“I’m here,” Jenna sobbed, wiping sweat from his forehead. Her hands were filthy, but she had nothing more.
“I…” he said, his breathing raspy and difficult. “I…”
And then his head lolled to the side, and he lost consciousness.
“No!” Jenna shrieked.
A police officer came to kneel beside her, and placed his fingers on Balal’s neck, feeling for his pulse. Jenna watched the man’s face as he counted, one, two, three. The policeman nodded.
Relief washed over her, but the anxiety quickly returned. How did she know that his heart would keep beating?
The medical services arrived, finally, after the police officers discovered another entrance to the bunker, allowing a stretcher to reach Balal. They lifted him onto it and rushed him out.
One of the EMTs—a short, pretty woman—wrapped a blanket around Jenna’s shoulders and insisted on leading her up behind the gurney. She didn’t care. She had to be with Balal.
They lifted him out into the rising dawn, Jenna trying to keep up behind them. She saw the flashing lights of police cars, and a large group of policemen surrounding a man wearing a white shirt.
Ahmad. They had caught him.
She knew she should be pleased, but all she could think of was Balal, still unconscious on the stretcher.
“Oh, please, Balal,” she cried, her eyes flowing freely with tears. “Please, you have to wake up.”
Two of the medical workers moved to examine her, but Jenna brushed them away.
“I’m fine! I’m fine!” she said to them. “Please, look after him! He needs help!”
They brought the stretcher up to the ambulance and collapsed it as they slid it inside. Jenna moved to hop up beside Balal, but one of the EMTs held out a hand to stop her.
“No,” the man replied. “Family only.”
Jenna had to stop herself from screaming.
I have to go with him, she thought. I can’t leave him, not now!
Jenna steeled herself and felt, only for a moment, a flicker of guilt. She had promised herself that she would never lie again, since lying was exactly what got her into this situation.
But because of it, she had met Balal, and she had come to truly care about him. More than she could have ever thought possible. She adored him, wholly and truly, and she couldn’t let them take him away from her, not now.
“I am his wife!” she replied, tears still flowing freely. She glared at the EMT. “Now let me in!”
The EMT looked at her skeptically, but he stood aside and helped her up into the back of the ambulance.
Jenna scooted over the seat to where Balal was and gazed down into his face. The EMTs had already put an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth, and were preparing an IV drip for his arm. They had cut back his shirt, and the wound looked worse now that it was exposed.
She felt her stomach lurch, and was grateful when one of the other EMTs handed her a paper bag to breathe into. The last thing she wanted was to pass out herself and not be there for when—if—he woke up.
The technicians cleaned the wound and dressed it with layers of gauze, but there was blood everywhere. Jenna hardly noticed
the ambulance bouncing along the streets, because all of her attention was on Balal’s face. She wondered if she would ever be able to gaze into his eyes again, explore their depths. She wondered if she would ever again feel the touch of his lips on hers.
She reached over and grabbed the hand that was closest to her, holding it tight. She didn’t know what to do, other than wallow in her own misery, and hope with every fiber in her being that he would be okay.
“Balal, please,” she cried, not caring what the EMTs might think. “I need you. I didn’t know how much until now. I realized that I would follow you into the depths of darkness, knowing that you would be there with me, knowing that I could face it all with you. And I would do it again if it would mean that you would be all right.”
A fresh flood of tears splashed onto her grimy black jacket.
“You rescued me, Balal, and because of it, I now see that the world is a different place than I had thought it to be. You opened my eyes to truth that I did not see, and helped me get past something that I never thought I could.”
Jenna squeezed his hand.
“There’s so much more that I wish to talk with you about, Balal, so much more I want to do. You have so much to show me, and I don’t want to be robbed of that time. So, please. Please wake up. Stay with me. Please.”
Chapter Fifteen
Jenna was allowed to follow Balal into the emergency wing, but no further. She hadn’t realized it before, but she had a small cut on her knee from falling to Balal’s side, but the pain was dull and inconsequential.
“Please, I need to find Sheikh Balal El-Djourani,” Jenna said to the receptionist at the desk.
She was told that Balal was going in for emergency surgery, and she was just going to have to wait.
Waiting might just make me lose my mind.
The waiting room itself was rather empty, as it was so early in the day. Still, Jenna found herself a chair as far away from everyone else as possible and plopped down into it.
