by C. J. Miller
He handed Saafir a bulletproof vest, a holster and gun. Adham handed a vest to Sarah. She slid it over her slim shoulders. She was in danger because of him and Saafir hated that. A man should provide safety for his woman, not bring peril to her doorstep.
“Why do I need to wear this?” Sarah said. Saafir adjusted the vest to fit her.
“It’s a precaution,” Saafir said.
“This seems like more than a precaution,” Sarah said.
Saafir took her hand in his and kissed the back of it. “I will keep you safe. That is my vow to you.”
They were in the hallway, moving away from the elevators and toward the stairwell within minutes. Saafir took Sarah’s elbow, trying to convey she was safe. “We’ll be okay. Adham is the best at what he does. This is just a precaution so there aren’t any further incidents.”
Sarah glanced at Adham, wariness in her eyes. The same distrust he had for her, she seemed to have for him.
They entered the metal-and-concrete stairwell. A few flights down, they heard voices. Saafir opened the door to the fourth floor and ushered Sarah inside to avoid whoever was on the stairs. Adham followed him. It could be guests of the hotel or it could be the reporters.
“Someone will see us,” Sarah said.
“Hopefully not,” Saafir said.
They didn’t wait around to find out. They rushed down the hall to another set of stairs. Adham looked inside and they listened for noise. It was quiet. “Let’s move,” he said.
They took the stairs to the parking area under the hotel.
Saafir wasn’t claustrophobic, but being underground with the lack of light, the low ceiling and the shadows made him tense and edgy. They could be cornered or shot at from between any of the hundreds of cars jammed in the area. His training in urban warfare had made him wary of places where attackers could hide.
“Keep your head down,” Saafir said, tucking Sarah against him.
They followed Adham, staying low. When they reached a running, nondescript black sedan at the stairwell exit, Adham opened the door. Adham put Saafir between the concrete wall of the garage and himself. Saafir helped Sarah into the car. Once Adham was inside, they drove out of the parking garage and away from the hotel.
Sarah was shaking. Saafir clasped her hands. She drew them away from him.
“This keeps happening,” she said.
“The men after me will not give up easily,” Saafir said. “We are working to get control of the situation.”
Sarah stared at him. “Working to get control? I’m not someone who needs the PR spin. Just tell me the truth.”
She touched her shoulder where she’d been hurt. Saafir’s chest ached. He had drawn her into this.
“I’ll keep you safe. Let me get you a drink,” Saafir said, gesturing to the small refrigerator in the car.
Sarah nodded. “Water, please.”
Saafir took out a bottle of water, opened it and poured it into a glass. He handed the glass to Sarah.
Adham knocked and then rolled down the window between the front seat and them. “We’re clearing the reporter from the lobby and we’re relocating every member of the committee who was staying in this hotel.”
Sarah let her head fall against the car seat. “I should start carrying my suitcase around with me like a nomad.”
Someone would collect their personal items from their rooms and find a way to get them to him and Sarah, but it was an inconvenience.
“I hate to see you this way. What can I do to make you feel more comfortable?” Saafir asked.
Sarah interlaced their fingers. “You said you would protect me. I want to believe that. But I know what you’re up against. You can’t defend me or yourself when you don’t know exactly who is doing this or what they are planning.”
He tried not to take offense at her words, but implying he couldn’t protect her didn’t sit well with him. “I oversee one of the best intelligence-gathering agencies in the world. We know who is laying claim to these attacks, and we’re working to infiltrate his group to find out more.”
“Is it Rabah Wasam? The man leading the protest in Qamsar?”
Saafir wouldn’t lie to her. Making a public accusation against Wasam for the shooting would be akin to a declaration of war, but he could trust Sarah with his thoughts. “I believe so.”
“Why does he hate you?”
“Captain,” Adham said, warning in his voice. Adham wouldn’t want him to tell Sarah the story. It had been kept out of the media, except in rumors and whispers.
Saafir could tell his story and leave Adham out of it. “Wasam and I served in the urban assault unit in Qamsar. We were trained in urban warfare and intelligence gathering to combat terrorist infiltration. We received word that we were being sent on an important mission. Our company was split and half were being sent into combat. My father arranged for me to stay behind so that I wouldn’t see action and be at risk.”
“Wasam was sent into battle and blamed you?” Sarah asked.
Saafir shook his head. “I was furious with my father for benching me from an important mission and Wasam hated the nepotism that could save my life. We secretly switched places. When my father found out, he charged Wasam as a criminal and put him in prison.”
Sarah eyes were wide. “He blames you for the prison time?”
“He does. It took me six months to convince my father the plot had been mine and that Wasam was innocent.” Six months and threats as extreme as disowning his family. “When Wasam was freed, the damage was done.” Though Wasam had declared himself Saafir’s mortal enemy, Saafir still harbored guilt over what had been done to Wasam. “He’d been starved and beaten and lost the use of his leg.”
Sarah gasped. “What did your father say?”
“About what?” Saafir asked. Once his father had doled out a punishment, he hadn’t liked going back on his word, much less apologizing or trying to make reparations for his decisions. “I was lucky Wasam was freed.”
“That’s why you’ve revamped the country’s prison system,” Sarah said.
It was part of the reason. “I have a personal interest in prison reform. I lost a friend, made an enemy and learned a terrible lesson about the consequences of lying.”
It was a lesson that haunted him to this day. Though Saafir had wanted to put the incident behind them, Wasam wasn’t on the same page. He wouldn’t stop until he’d had his vengeance and to Wasam, that meant Saafir dead.
* * *
Sarah wanted to return to her home, her home before it had been destroyed. She wanted her soft bed, her big bathtub and her comfortable couch. She wanted to walk around barefoot and shower in her bathroom. Managing meetings and organizing the caterers and conference room setups were proving more stressful when she could only rely on her phone and the data she had saved inside it. Though the security team assembled for the trade agreement committee had taken over arranging hotel accommodations, the constant changing of meeting locations made her job harder. The security team wanted to release the name of the site as close to the meeting time as possible to mitigate the possibility of a breach, but it meant Sarah was scrambling every day to keep up.
Sarah fought the frustration that made her feel like punching someone. She was tired, over-emotional and scared. She didn’t have anyone to whom she could direct her anger, although Rabah Wasam was sounding like a good candidate.
The incident in Saafir’s office had turned her on fiercely and then she’d been doused in fear. It was an unsettling place to be.
“Wasam played an equal role in what happened to him,” Sarah said. She hated to hear adults blaming the consequences of their actions on others. It was how Alec had justified so many of his terrible decisions.
“He doesn’t see it that way,” Saafir said.
Saafir’s expression was
dark and serious. His brown eyes were rimmed with exhaustion and sadness. His thumb rubbed hers almost absently. She wished she had come to see him sooner.
“We can ask our American counterparts to suggest a place to stay,” Saafir said.
“No,” Adham said. “If there’s a leak of information, it’s not from us. Nibal is dead and there are no other plants.”
Sarah felt an accusation in the words. Was Adham blaming her for the assassination attempt and the problems with security? Or Americans in general?
“No one took a shot at me until I was with Saafir,” Sarah said, feeling her blood pressure rise. The threat had to be from someone in Qamsar who’d followed the emir to American soil.
“There are many who seek to harm the emir,” Adham said. “Some are Qamsarian and some are foreign.”
Sarah narrowed her eyes at him.
“I thought you didn’t want to spend time with the emir outside your meetings,” Adham said.
Had Saafir spoken to Adham about their relationship or was he perceptive? “I changed my mind.” It was her prerogative and since Saafir wasn’t complaining, Adham didn’t need to be involved.
“I think it’s worth noting that you come around and then we have a security problem,” Adham said.
“Adham, that’s enough. Sarah has nothing to do with the problems we’ve had. I have many enemies. It’s too soon to know who is responsible for this,” Saafir said. He sounded firm, but tired.
Adham gave her a long look, letting her know he wasn’t directing his suspicions away from her.
“It could be an inside job,” Sarah said, feeling her temper get the better of her.
Saafir didn’t say anything, but she regretted the words when she saw the hurt in his eyes. His recent family history was filled with betrayals and hidden agendas. A veiled accusation aimed at Adham was a low blow.
“Saafir, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to accuse anyone.”
Saafir slipped his arms around her shoulders bringing her against him. He kissed her temple. “I know you didn’t mean any harm.”
Sarah buried her face against him, feeling like she could shut out the rest of the world. Forget the media and Adham and Wasam. She was with Saafir, a man who made her feel alive and excited and safe. He was carrying around so much on his shoulders, she wished she could take some of the burden or help in some way.
Inspiration struck. “I know a place where I can spend the night,” Sarah said.
All eyes turned to her.
“My former sister-in-law has a houseboat.” No one would think to look for her there. She and Evelyn had remained friendly after her split from Alec, but Evelyn wasn’t someone she associated with frequently.
“Does she have room for all of us?” Adham asked.
Sarah hadn’t meant to suggest she, Saafir, Adham and the other two guards take over Evelyn’s boat. “If you don’t mind sleeping under the stars.” Near the dock were a trailer park and a camping area.
“A night off the grid could help,” Saafir said. “Whoever is tracking us will lose the trail.”
“I don’t want to put Evelyn in danger,” Sarah said, thinking through her suggestion.
Adham stiffened. “I can give you my personal guarantee we will remain vigilant for the duration.”
Adham could be prickly and surly at times, but Sarah saw glimpses of the warrior in him. If he promised to keep Evelyn safe, he would do it.
Sarah called Evelyn and Evelyn was happy to host them. Evelyn was a lot like Alec, and Sarah enjoyed most of those similarities. Unfortunately, one of those shared traits was Evelyn’s propensity to drink. Though her drinking hadn’t landed her in the trouble Alec’s had, Sarah worried about Evelyn.
“Thank you,” Saafir said.
“You’re welcome. I’m just doing my job.”
“This is more than your job,” Saafir said. “This was an inspired idea.”
Sarah blushed under his praise. He made her feel like she had solved a great mystery of the world. How did he manage to make her feel special for something so simple?
Evelyn’s boat was docked on the Chesapeake Bay in a private community made of trailers and houseboats. It was quiet when they arrived. The sound of water lapping against the shore was melodic and comforting.
They parked and walked along the dock to Evelyn’s boat.
“Well, well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes. Welcome,” Evelyn said, greeting them from her boat. In her hand was a wine glass mostly filled. She took a swig of her drink and waved them aboard.
Sarah hugged Evelyn. “Thank you for letting us stay with you. We’ve run into some problems.”
“You were vague on the phone, but I know trouble when I hear it. Please, come and I’ll show you around. The grand tour takes less than two minutes.”
Ten minutes later, Adham and one of the guards were asleep on Evelyn’s guest bunk beds; the other guard was situated on the boat, facing the dock, not drawing attention to himself, but staying alert. Saafir, Evelyn and Sarah sat on the main deck in canvas-backed beach chairs. Evelyn had offered everyone a glass of wine and Saafir had declined.
“You picked someone who’s about as different as can be from Alec,” Evelyn said. She looked between Sarah and Saafir. “I’m not sticking my nose into someone else’s love life, but I’ve seen the news. I know who you are.”
“It’s important that no one know we’re here,” Sarah said. Evelyn knew how to keep a secret, but when the wine started flowing, Evelyn could be loose-lipped.
“I don’t want to invite trouble,” Evelyn said. “I have enough troubles.”
Sarah questioned her decision to bring Saafir and his guards here. But where else was she safe? Her social circle was small and whoever was looking for Saafir could easily connect him to Sarah and then to Molly, Krista or Owen. Because Evelyn didn’t live in Washington, D.C., and because Sarah didn’t see her as often, Sarah hoped the distance kept anyone from tracing them to Evelyn’s place. Besides, they were staying for one night. How quickly could the men hunting them find them?
“I appreciate that you’ve opened your home to us,” Saafir said to Evelyn.
“I owe Sarah after what she’s done for Alec.”
Sarah didn’t want Evelyn to elaborate. She had told Saafir she had been married, but talking about Alec was a delicate subject. Those wounds were deep and hadn’t quite healed.
“I visited him the other week,” Evelyn said. “It was family day at the center and Alec’s been there long enough to be allowed visitors. He was hoping you’d come.”
Guilt stabbed at her and she wished Evelyn wouldn’t talk about Alec, especially not now, not today. Sarah had cut Alec from her life forcefully and purposefully. “I told him I wouldn’t.” Everyone involved in the situation had agreed she needed to stay away. Why then the overwhelming sense of self-blame every time someone spoke of Alec?
“That’s what I told him, too,” Evelyn said. “But you know how bullheaded he can be. He surprised me by showing up here about a week ago.”
A week ago? Had Alec left rehab? “Did he quit the program?” Sarah asked, worry heavy in her stomach.
“He had a momentary lapse in judgment. Owen had to pull some serious strings to have the program overlook his leaving and agree to keep him in and not turn him over to the police,” Evelyn said.
Sarah couldn’t hide her annoyance. Evelyn was describing classic Alec: impulsive and thrill-seeking with no regard for his safety, the consequences or how his actions hurt others. “I’m glad he’s sticking with it.” She glanced at Saafir. He was listening, but she couldn’t get a read on his face. She hadn’t wanted Saafir to know about her ex’s substance abuse issues.
“He wants to see you,” Evelyn said. “I told him he had to stay in rehab.”
Evelyn and Alec were twins. The
y were close. While Sarah and Alec had been married, she and Evelyn had been good friends. After she had filed for divorce from Alec, Evelyn had supported her. But when Sarah had begun to move on with her life, tension had grown between the two women. It was as if Evelyn had wanted Sarah to use the divorce as a threat to help Alec get and stay clean, but she still wanted Sarah to stick around and patch things up down the road with him.
Sarah had known ending her marriage would mean losing the people who’d become her family, but she hadn’t expected how much it would hurt to look at the people she cared about across the chasm of divorce, knowing she would never be as close with them.
“Alec knows I’m not part of his life, and until he gets clean, we can’t be friends.” She glanced at Saafir. She expected him to look either uncomfortable or to be looking away. It was how most people reacted when Sarah spoke of Alec and his problems.
Instead, he was watching her, curiosity written on his face.
Evelyn changed the subject to her life on the boat and her plans for the summer. The next couple of hours passed in easy conversation. When she finished her glass of wine, Evelyn said good-night, leaving Sarah and Saafir alone.
Saafir hadn’t said much during the conversation. This far away from the city lights, the sky was filled with stars and Saafir was reclining in his chair, watching them.
“I feel like I need to explain about Alec,” Sarah said. The smell of citronella wafted from the candle burning on the nearby table.
“No need,” Saafir said. “You don’t owe me an explanation for anything. You have a life and I have no right to pry into any part of it.”
Didn’t he have questions? Most people who knew about Alec couldn’t grasp what they had gone through. They usually had blame for either Alec or her or wanted to know more about his addiction and their marriage. It bothered her that Saafir didn’t want to know anything. It seemed to speak to his disinterest in her and it highlighted their affair was a brief one. It was what she had wanted, wasn’t it? Could she ask Saafir to care knowing she wouldn’t be in his life long? The request was ridiculous and Sarah didn’t voice it.
