Cross the Stars (Crossing Stars #1)

by Venessa Kimball

  Cradled in my arms, I keep her close, my hands still holding her trembling thighs as she hums soft breaths into my ear. I stay inside of her, wanting to remain in this sacred place where we can always be together.

  Craving the smell of her skin, I run my nose against her jaw and dip my lips down to touch the pounding pulse on the nape of her neck. The thumbing beat against my lips, so fast; I do that to her. I know her in every way and I can’t release her no matter the consequence. If it is death, then so be it, because life without this woman, without touching her soul every single day, will leave me damned.

  “I am telling them tonight.”

  My clouded statement has her pulling back to look into my eyes as she rests her hand on my cheek, waiting for me to explain. I gaze deep into Ella’s soul and let my own be my guide. “I will refuse to marry her; if I have to forfeit my crown, so be it. To marry her would be surrendering to a fate I have never wanted. The only woman I want to be with forever is you.”

  The pop and crackling sound of fireworks being set ablaze and the harsh knock at the door pull me from her. Badir’s voice calls through closed doors, “Sahib Al-Somuw, Shakhs Qadim!”

  I cup her face in my hands and kiss her tenderly. “Someone is coming.”

  As I fasten my pants she slides down from the desk and lowers her dress. Nothing is amiss on the desk except the glass of whiskey Ella had been drinking.

  Rushing and shuffling around each other aimlessly in circles, I pick up the glass and comment on her habit, “You shouldn’t be drinking.”

  She stops turning and stares at me hard. “You have a decanter of it sitting in the open. Can you fucking blame me?”

  Her sharp tongue is infuriating, but I can’t blame her after the way this night had gone. I pull her to me and kiss her once more before the knock comes again. “Prince Rajaa,” Badir hisses.

  I hand Ella the sheer scarf I had rendered her helpless with before opening the door.

  Badir is hovering on the other side, anxiously surveying Ella and me. Badir tells me he can take her out the back in Arabic while the family is outside sending off the guests.

  “Where is Ana?” Ella asks nervously

  “Elha. A distraction,” Badir says urgently, telling me she is distracting the person coming.

  I turn to Ella and stare into her deep-blue eyes once more. “Badir will take you out of here.”

  Her brow furrows as she searches my eyes. “What about you?”

  I reassure her, “I will be fine. No one saw me leave when the guests started exiting to the courtyard.”

  She is holding on to my tuxedo jacket like I am her life line. “I love you, Raj.” Her voice catches so innocently as she says my name, reminding me once again that Ella is pure love above everything else in this world set on tainting us.

  “I love you too.”

  I kiss her once again before Badir pulls her from me, taking her through the hall and down the back stairs.

  I quickly look over the room, searching for anything out of place, then glance down at myself and my rumpled shirt. Quickly, I set the glass down and tuck in my shirt, straightening my bowtie the best I can when a knock comes at the door. “Rajaa.”

  It is my father. I take the drink from the desk and dash to the window. “Yes, I’m here.”

  My father opens the door, his cane leading him as he walks. He appears confused. “Why didn’t you join us to see off our guests? Your brother seems to have disappeared as well.”

  I swirl the whiskey around in the glass, drawing my father’s attention to the liquid. “You shouldn’t drink.”

  I move away from the window to my father as he walks toward me. “It is understandable, Rajaa ... nerves. First you are crowned heir and then propose marriage to Daya.”

  I find fault in his statement. “I didn’t propose to Daya, Baba, you did.”

  He stops walking, seeming to be stunned by my words. “You would eventually propose to her, Rajaa. The Amir and I made it more convenient.”

  “For who? You?”

  “No! For you!” he yells back at me.

  I take a drink of the whiskey, silently thanking Ella for pouring a hefty dose. As I savor it, then pull the glass from my lips, I contemplate the game my father has chosen to play with me and realize where Zaid has found his innate ways of strategizing. “Why me?”

  “What do you mean?” he asks, his tremors returning as his head shakes.

  “Why did you crown me when it has always been expected for Zaid to succeed you?”

  My father moves away from me and finds the back of the chair to rest his free hand, the cane not being enough as he stands to speak to me. “You will be a better leader.”

  I don’t deny I am the better choice, but he is not answering my question truthfully. “I will not deny it being that Zaid is still in contact with Tariq under our family’s noses.”

  I expect my revelation to surprise him, but he remains fixed on the ground below him, running his thumb over the top of his cane. “You knew?”

  He refuses to look at me as the words he speaks draw bitter disdain. “While I am old, I am not blind, Rajaa. I thought he would change, as he groveled to me and the Amir that day you were gone, telling us as Allah as his witness, he would turn against the evil that had pulled him.”

  He shakes his head. “I knew his deceit wouldn’t make it through the day.”

  He closes his eyes. “Your mother, he had her almost believing his atonement as he took hold of planning this celebration. His mind was completely set that he was going to be King.”

  He shakes his head. “The courtyard is below my room. I heard you and Zaid arguing. I heard everything.”

  He looks up into my eyes. “While I knew you were set on not marrying Daya because of this woman you have fallen in love with, I knew giving the throne to Zaid would be the greater downfall of our monarchy, one that would further throw the Middle East into chaos.”

  “So you decided to crown me heir and propose on my behalf in front of the press, hundreds of guests, the Prime Minister, and Cabinet present to witness it.”

  He strains to keep his head from shaking as his fury rises. He raises his cane and hammers it to the ground. “Yes, I did!”

  “Yes, we did.” My mother is standing at the open door, boundless and supremely transfixed on our exchange as she walks toward us, turning to me. “You chose a volatile lust for a woman, an impure bond that has clouded your path, Rajaa!” She takes the glass of whiskey from my hand and throws it across the room.

  “No, my love for Ella has clouded your path!” I look between both my mother and father now. “If you think a public proposal will keep me from being with Ella, you are wrong.”

  My mother strikes me across the face, sending me stumbling back as her eyes widen and her mouth hardens. “You will marry Daya!”

  I take my hand from the sting she has left on me. “If I marry anyone, it will be Ella.”

  I contemplate the trivialness of my parents’ logic. “You are finding fault with my love for Ella, while your oldest son is cavorting with prostitutes, drunk and strung out like a fiend, while extorting resources from a Syrian Sheikh who will turn on him and our country in a heartbeat! You are turning on me, while he is masterminding his own reign! You think my forbidden love will destroy us all? Where is he?”

  They stare at me, wordless to my uncontrolled tirade, as I step closer to them, maddened knowing he is running loose. “Where is your son?”

  Neither of them speak, sending my mind into wicked place and possibilities a scorned man may hide while planning his retribution.

  Ripping myself from their blinded eyes and deafened ears, I rush through the door in search of a madman intent on revenge.

  I startle awake with the feeling something has happened to Raj. Sitting upright, I look at the two-piece dress I wore last night with the veil strung on the hanger, the smallest amount of dawn drawing sparkle from the beading.

  Last night, while the guests and royalty were
staring up at the cascading firework display, Badir took me from Raj’s arms and stealthy drew me out of the palace, bringing me home to safety. As I walk over to the window and peer out, I see Badir’s SUV still parked where it was parked last night. He stayed and watched the house, watched for me, even after the Ba’ashirs and Ahmadis returned. I pretended to be asleep, not wanting to explain why I had left early, how I had gotten into the house. Now morning, I know Hoda will be waking with questions for me.

  I’m not sure what answers to give her, as I’m still not sure what happened after we left the party. On the way home, I’d heard Badir’s phone ring, his covert Arabic conversation giving little away.

  The call had been quick, Badir claiming Raj called to make sure I was safe. It would have been a sweet gesture, if not for Badir helping me out of SUV while pulling back his suit coat, releasing the holster his gun was locked into. When we arrived at the Ba’ashirs’, I found myself locked out without a key. He took out the most sophisticated lock-picking tool I’d ever seen, picked the lock and ushered me inside with strict order to lock the door. The urgency in his eyes scared me as he claimed he would be just outside the entire night. He kept his promise, and that has me even more worried now.

  After I dress, I touch the fabric of the dress once more. Waking up with the sensation something has happened to Raj, combined with Badir’s behavior last night, leaves me lost and I need something to hold onto that carries a memory of him. I pull the sheer, blue veil through the hanger just as Raj slipped it from my neck last night and tuck it into my bag before leaving my room.

  Hoda is already working in the kitchen, getting food ready for the family. I notice Ismad, Uncle Naz, and the boys sitting in the living room eating around the coffee table. She hears me close the door to my room and turns to me. She puts down what she is doing, wipes her hands on her apron, and comes toward me.

  “Where you go?” She keeps her voice low as she glances over her shoulder, making sure no one hears her line of questioning.

  “I felt sick. Mareed.”

  “Mareed?”

  “Naam,” I confirm.

  She looks me over. “Okay?”

  I nod. “I’m better.”

  She nods, seeming to find satisfaction until she looks down the stairs then back at me. “No key.”

  Fuck.

  “It was open. Fath.”

  “Fath!” Her voice is louder all of a sudden as she seems anxious and nervous. “Ismad!” She turns toward the room the men occupy, Ismad coming to the doorway.

  “Naam. Oh, Ella, where were you last night? How did you get in?” His urgency is akin to Hoda’s.

  Hoda speaks quickly in Arabic explaining what I have said, then he turns to me, concerned. “Not locked? I remember locking the door.”

  I lower my eyes and shake my head. “No, it was unlocked. I just touched the knob.”

  That wasn’t a complete lie. I did just touch the knob, after Badir picked it.

  He looks between Hoda and me, his hands on his hips as he appears to retrace his steps in the mass exodus to the procession of trucks collecting us. Focusing on me now, he raises his eyebrows. “It is possible.”

  He explains to Hoda in Arabic.

  She looks back at me as Ismad walks back into the living room to finish his food.

  As I sit to the table, Hoda returns to her duties, preparing food more food for us. Ameena comes up behind me, hugging my shoulders. “Salaam.”

  I clasp her hands around my neck and lean into her. “Salaam.”

  She sits down next to me as Hoda turns to us bearing Shrak and two bowls of hot Fuul. “Shukran.”

  Hoda nods as she enunciates, “Welcome.”

  I wrap my veil over my head as Hoda hands me a small bag for lunch, just as she has done for the past two-and-a-half months now. She arranges and tidies my veil, finding something amiss with the way it sits. She glances at me as she does this, then pulls me to her, kissing me on both cheeks.

  As I start to move from her, her hands hold me still as she looks at me. “Okay? No sick?”

  I see worry in her eyes for me, something Hoda has never expressed. Feeling thrown off by her concern, I nod. “Naam.”

  She seems to find peace in my response as the wrinkle in her forehead disappears. “Wa-Alaykum as-salaam.”

  “Wa-Alaykum as-salaam.”

  Badir drops me a few yards from the courtyard like I have asked him to in the past. Before I open the door, he tells me. “I will watch you.”

  I thank him and open the door.

  As I walk along the sidewalk, passing the local store owners opening their doors for the day’s business, I notice one of the faces I hadn’t seen in weeks—the man who pulled my veil from my head. I avoid his brief stare as he picks up a piece of trash from the ground, looks beyond me, then goes back into the store he came from. As I pass the open doorway, I walk quicker and glance back once, before entering reaching the guards standing at the courtyard entrance.

  Entering the center, I walk toward the computer lab. I hadn’t emailed my sister in days and on the way here, I told myself I should at least make contact. Just as I come to the door of the lab and see Ana at a computer, my name is called from behind.

  “Ella.” Tom is standing in the hall with a grim expression on his face. “Can you come to my office?”

  I look back at Ana, knowing she heard Tom, and I am wondering if she knows what’s going on. Her wide eyes tell me she doesn’t have a clue either. I turn to Tom. “Now?”

  He nods. “Yes, please.”

  I turn back toward Tom and walk toward him. Each step I wonder what he knows, what he has learned. Is this about me? Did something happen to Raj?

  Tom motions for me to enter ahead of him. As I enter, I see the face of a man who is not supposed to occupy this world, the face of my father as he rises from the chair he occupies.

  “What are you doing here?” is my greeting.

  My father scoffs, seemingly embarrassed by my ill-mannered greeting, then sets his bitter glare on me. “Well, that is a fine greeting. I have come to bring you home.”

  “Bring me home?”

  Tom shuts the door behind him. “Your father has been in contact with Prince Zaid. He has told your father and me about the apparent affair you and Prince Rajaa have pursued in secrecy. He fears that it has put you both in danger.”

  I don’t think Tom means to convey the burden I have placed on him, but I feel the guilt of it still.

  My father starts in, “I knew coming over here was a bad idea from the start.” My father glances at Tom. “Nothing against what you are doing here, Mr. Stern, but my daughter’s naive risk-taking behavior is not cut out for ventures like these, as you can see!”

  He glares at me. “An affair with a Prince of Jordan. Do you not have any self-respect, Ella? Any shame to your actions? You have come to this country, traipsed around with a prince, swayed his code of conduct by seducing him into an affair!”

  What the fuck? “Is that what Zaid has told you? That I swayed him into an affair?”

  “Yes.”

  I laugh at him with sheer disgust. “And you believe him because he is fucking royalty, right?”

  “What? Should I believe the daughter who has apparently spread her legs to a Prince of Jordan?”

  “Fuck you!” I spit the words at him as his hand comes across the side of my face, sending me stumbling back, Tom catching my fall.

  I stare at my father, shocked by what he just did. Still enraged, my father reaches for me to pull me to him. “Here, we are leaving.”

  Tom holds me protectively. “I think we need to calm down before that happens.”

  My father then tugs at his collar, refusing to look at either of us. “Yes, well, we have a flight to catch.”

  I find my voice through the shock and hate. “I am not going anywhere with you.”

  The door to Tom’s office suddenly opens, Raj standing in the doorway. He takes in the scene, Tom holding my arms and my father hove
ring close. “What is going on?” He releases the door knob, appearing out of breath, like he had run to get to me.

  The sound of children in the hallway creeps through the open door; the students have started arriving. I move away from Tom to pick up my bag, it having fallen when my father struck me. As I come up my father takes hold of my arm. “We are leaving this instant.”

  Raj steps in front of him, blocking the doorway as he closes it behind him. “You aren’t taking her anywhere!”

  I try to pull away from the grip my father has on me, but he digs his fingers in deeper, making me wince as he glares at Raj. “She is my daughter, and yes I am!”

  Raj’s shock is apparent as he looks between my father and me.

  My father pauses for a moment to take Raj in. “I’m thankful that your brother thought of my daughter’s safety, since you had no sense! And to think you will be King.”

  My father shoves Raj away from the door as I fight harder against his pull. “No! I’m not going with you! Raj!”

  Holding my arm, my father opens the door to Tom’s office and pulls me into the hall, Raj and Tom following behind us as I fight against him.

  “Mr. Wallace,” Raj starts to plead with him, but my father refuses his words, standing at the doors of the center with me in tote.

  “Don’t you dare speak to me.”

  As my father drags me down the hall, I look out into the courtyard and see the man who pulled my veil from my head all those weeks ago, the one I saw for the first time in weeks this morning, standing in the middle of the courtyard. As the children and families walk around me, staring at my father pulling me along, I look back at Raj as he and Tom follow close behind us.

  “Raj, the man in the courtyard!”

  Just as he turns in the direction of the courtyard, his eyes widen. He lunges straight for me and my father, taking us both down to the ground just as a flash of light blinds me and the resounding boom numbs all sound, setting a high-pitched ringing stationary in my head until it fades with me into the consuming darkness.

  “Ella!” The sound of Raj’s voice brings me to. I think I am still in between this world and another as I open my eyes and look into the safe haven of his golden embers while the screams, cries, and gunfire surrounds us. His voice is almost inaudible as I watch his lips.