I stand and pace, thinking of Amahad, the country I hate and love, almost in equal measures. However, it’s my heritage after all, and while my head might think otherwise, the blood that flows through my veins retains a desire to return. And it concerns me that my absence may be having a detrimental effect, something I’d not previously considered. It’s not as if I need to search for an excuse. It’s not stretching the truth to say I need to visit the oil fields, to oversee the work done on the ground that, so far, I’ve only directed from afar. I admit it looks bad, the second son who’s abandoned his roots.
Surely I can spare some time? It’s not as if I’ll be held prisoner, and won’t be allowed to return. I can trust my brother, the emir, not to keep me there by force, can’t I? Of course, he's got the power to do that if he wanted to. But Kadar wouldn’t stoop so low, would he? I glance quickly at my sister-in-law. Kadar condoned Cara’s kidnap.
Nijad and his wife are murmuring to each other, giving me much needed time to think. My steps take me to the window, and I gaze out over London, at the heavy rain clouds threatening, the coats people are wearing showing colder weather has already arrived. With winter on its way, it’s an appropriate time to go back. I’m Arab after all, the sun will restore me.
I didn’t expect to be swayed, hadn’t thought I’d agree, but seeing Nijad and Cara, talking about my niece and nephew, a sudden bout of unexpected homesickness washes over me. Until I spoke, I wasn't sure I’d made the decision. “I’ll come.”
My brother comes up alongside me and slaps me on the back, his open eyes showing my acquiescence was unexpected. His hand settles on my arm as he turns me to face him. Pleasure beams from his eyes. “You won’t regret it, Jas. It’s time you came home.”
“Only for a month or two.” I rush to assure him my return will have a time limit. “And I’ll need to make sure everything’s running smoothly here first.”
“Jon will watch over the club. And I hear Devil’s coming back for a while. It’s good timing, brother.”
My lips turn up in a cautious smile, he’s right, the two other owners will keep Tiacapan running in my absence, but, “There’s never a good time, Nijad. Although you’re right. If I’m ever going to get closure, I need to move on. I need to return. Understand though, this is where I’m making my life now. This,” I point back around and out of the window again. “This is my home. Not Amahad. Whatever you and Kadar think, I’m never going to live there again. Not for good.”
“You might find yourself nice Arab woman.”
Even though I see that he’s teasing, I toss him a glare. His reference to a pure and untouched native the last thing I want. “Don’t go there, Nijad. Just don’t. You know me, you know my lifestyle choice. Taking an innocent virgin to my bed? Someone who doesn’t share my desires?” I step toward him, almost in his face, “If you’ve got any plans to set me up, you can drop them now. You and Kadar might be happy shackled to one woman, but I’m wired differently to you.”
“Jasim, I didn’t mean…”
“You mentioned it. I’ll take it you meant it as a joke. Now drop the subject, else I’ll change my mind. If the two of you are plotting to set me up I won’t step foot in Amahad.”
The thought of me with a naïve woman is a joke. So why do I immediately see a vision of Janna Stevens in my head?
Chapter 4
Janna
“Where the fuck have you been?”
I knew it. As soon as I step through the door, Mickey is waiting for me. And it had to be him, didn’t it? He’s the most protective out of all of them. “I, er…” Although I’d had the whole journey to concoct some sort of story, I hadn’t been able to concentrate with the enigmatic sheikh sitting by my side.
He’s not even giving me a moment to get my thoughts together. Storming up so he’s right in my face, he starts, “And don’t think of saying you were with Mara. I’ve been blowing up her phone since early this morning. Where have you been, Janna? And I want the truth.”
Shit. I didn’t expect her to drop me in it.
My thoughts must have been plain on my face, as he continues, “Oh, she tried to cover for you, but there’s just so many times you could be ‘on the loo’, ‘brushing your teeth’, or ‘just popped out for some milk’.”
“Mickey, you weren’t too hard on her, were you?” He can get overbearing at times. It’s alright him berating me as if I was an errant child, but I don’t like the thought of him taking his ire out on my friends.
“Of course not! But in the end she told me the fucking truth and told me about that asinine text you sent her. You left her around midnight and went off alone. And ended up with some man. And fuck it, Janna. What the hell has happened to you?” Now he breaks off his tirade, and looks at me properly for the first time. He reaches out his hand, and gently turns my head, “Fuck, I knew something had to be wrong. How did you get that? What did that bastard do to you?” He touches the bump and cut on my forehead, and I wince and move away.
“Jesus! This is exactly why we watch out for you, girl. Now tell me what the fuck happened to you!” As he raises his voice, another man appears from behind him.
“What’s happened? Fuck, Janna! You fall or did you get hit?” Ben’s noticed my wound a lot quicker than Mickey. “Joe, get out here, man. Janna’s been hurt.”
Oh, shit, now there’s three of them. Might as well get this over with. “Who else is here? Is it everyone?” I sound waspish. I can’t help it.
Ben’s voice confirms he’s present when he yells out, “Liam, Rory! The wanderer has returned.”
“Hey, girlfriend! They’re all here! And now you’re in trouble!” A female voice this time, Sunny, Mickey’s sister and Rory’s long-term girlfriend laughs, but throws a look of sympathy my way.
Mickey’s arms are folded over his chest. At his sister’s words he shakes his head, and his taut features don’t relax one bit. “Yeah, she’s in trouble. Whatever she’s done, she’s worried us sick. You better have a good story, Janna. We were about to report you missing to the police.”
My head, which had been feeling much better, now starts to ache again, and that’s probably what makes me snap, “I’m twenty-two years old, I’m a grown woman. For fuck’s sake, I don’t have to report my every action to you!” My eyes flick round the five men glaring at me, “If I want to stay out all night, that’s my prerogative. And anyway, I told Mara I was with someone and I was safe.”
“She told us that, yes. But wasn’t particularly forthcoming about who you were with.” Mickey’s not giving up.
I throw up my hands, “Just leave me alone.” I try to brush past them to go up to my room, but I’ve got five angry men to get past, and they’re not moving out of my way.
Ben’s hand comes out and takes hold of my arm, “Not so fast, darling. Not until you explain, this.”
This being the wound on my head.
I inhale and exhale loudly. God these over-protective males frustrate me at times. Knowing they won’t stop badgering me until they get the truth, I might as well get it over with now. I’d hoped to avoid a confrontation, but any chance of that disappeared when Mara was unable to provide a good back story, though she had covered up for me as best she could from what Mickey had said.
Oh well, at least they’re all here, I won’t need to explain more than once. Letting out another deep sigh, I give in, waving toward the sitting room, “Okay, I’ll tell you what happened.” They’ll only concoct an even worse tale if I don’t tell them at least some of the truth. I lead the way in, and take my normal seat at the end of the three-seater couch. Christ, they’re going to flay me alive.
Mickey takes his place beside me, Ben next to him. Rory and Liam take the armchairs, and Sunny plonks herself in her customary fashion on Rory’s lap. Joe pulls up the pouffe, the leather footstool almost collapsing under his weight, his long legs folded so his knees are to his chest. When we’re all here, we usually gravitate to this seating arrangement.
I take a second t
o glower at them in turn, in the vain hope that going on the offensive will offset their anger, “What I do is my business. If I get into trouble that’s down to me.”
“So, you have got into trouble?”
Of course, that’s the bit he focuses on. “Oh, for God’s sake, shut up, Mickey. Else I won’t tell you anything at all. I’m here, I’m alright. That should be enough. Can’t you keep your nose out of it, just for once?”
“We promised your mother...” Ben drops in their normal justification, but this time I shrug it off.
“I was sixteen. Ben, Sixteen. Six bloody years ago. I think I’ve grown up some since then and should be able to look out for myself.”
Pointedly nodding toward my forehead, Rory butts in, “Obviously not.”
“And you’ve never made a mistake? Got yourself into any hassle that wasn’t your fault?”
He’s unrepentant, “I’m not you.”
No, he’s not. And for some reason, they think I’m special. I lean back in the comfy seat, resting my head against the cushion. I know six pairs of eyes are upon me as I try to restrain my temper, knowing their concern comes from the right place, even while it’s immensely annoying. Six years ago, my parents had had a car accident. My father was killed instantly, my mother lived only long enough to elicit a promise that the group would look after me. And by group, I mean band. A precocious but gifted guitarist, I’d joined Anarchy Rules a year earlier, when I was just fifteen. My parents didn’t like the idea at first, but agreed after giving the five other members, all male, a strict vetting and instructions to be hands off themselves, and keep all other males away from their sweet baby girl.
When my parents died, with no relatives around to take on a sixteen-year-old teenager, they kind of adopted me. And had taken my parents’ message to heart.
All I’d ever wanted to do was play guitar. As far as I was concerned, I was living the life of Reilly, becoming a full-time musician once I’d left school. I was doing what I loved, touring, trying a hand at recording, and working to make a success of our band. That I was chaperoned on dates at first didn’t concern me—most of the boys I’d met seemed a distraction from my music in any event. During the evening I normally found myself composing songs in my head or new riffs, and too preoccupied to listen to conversations going on around me. Some dates they didn’t even need to chase off, my habit of zoning out putting them off without trying.
It wasn’t hard for me to be a good girl, living by the rules I’d been set. Surprisingly slow to mature, despite the companions I had in my life, and having more than once walked in to see one or other of the guys in action with a one night stand, I’d never felt any stirrings of my own sexuality, or the need to have a personal life. That is, until recently. Now I’ve started to become restless, feeling an increasing need to break out of the comfortable cocoon surrounding me. Last night was the first time I’d pushed at the boundaries. And look at what could have happened. Maybe they’re right, and I’m not safe to be allowed out alone.
Then, if I don’t make my own mistakes, how will I ever learn? Being a member of Anarchy Rules has become my whole life. But what if it’s not enough for me anymore?
“Janna,” Mickey growls, he’s getting impatient.
“Okay, okay.” I sit forward again, “I was wrong, alright? Look, I went out with the girls like I told you, but they wanted to go clubbing, and I didn’t. I was making my own way home.”
“Why didn’t you call one of us?” Joe’s glance encompasses the other four men’s nodding heads.
“Because I’m twenty-two years old!” I snap, “I’m not a child. I should be able to get back here alone.” Four identical looks of incredulity are thrown at me, accompanied by growls of refute. Yeah, well, by the state of me, perhaps they’ve got a point. Taking a deep breath, I proceed to give them a blow by blow account. Rory and Liam, our Irish twins, clench their fists when I speak about the attack.
The former so irate he prods Sunny to move to the floor, while he stands and paces the room. “He threw you against the wall? Stole your stuff? Did you report it to the police?”
Shaking my head, I swallow, “I didn’t get a good look at him, so no, I didn’t report it. What good would it have done? He left the bag, but took everything in it. I’m sorry guys, he’s got my keys and my address.”
“Fuck!” Mickey’s cheeks glow red as he sucks in air through his teeth, “Fuck, Janna. We need to get the locks changed. And you’re not going to be left on your own until we do.”
At this I don’t object, I certainly don’t want my attacker paying me a visit.
“So you went to hospital? Is that where you’ve been? A & E?” Sunny’s mouth turns down as she continues, sympathetically, “The waiting times are horrendous. You’ve probably been there all night.”
She’s offered me a way out, but I’m too honest to take it. However overbearing they are, it’s not in me to lie. “No. I refused to go to hospital.”
I’d tried to avoid it, but there’s nothing else for it but to explain exactly what happened. They listen, and one by one jaws drop and eyes widen.
“You went into Tops and Tailends?” Mickey says disbelievingly, before getting to his feet then looming over me, one hand resting on the arm of the settee as he speaks right into my face, so can I feel his warm breath, “You know what the fuck kind of place that is?”
It’s true I’d seen some rather weirdly clad people entering, but hadn’t had time to look around, “No, I didn’t get a chance to find out. There was a stairway just inside the entrance, and a security chap took me straight up to the manager’s, or owner’s, office. Bates, I think he was called.”
“Thank fuck for small mercies! Hang on. You met Bates?” Mickey swipes back his long hair, which has fallen over his shoulders, “Have you any idea of what the fuck you were getting into? What in hell’s name made you go in there?”
“Wait. What?” I shake my head, surprised they think I had a choice. “I ran to the nearest place, Mickey. I had a man after me. I wasn’t going to stop to check what sort of business it was. I was lucky that somewhere was open. What are you talking about?”
Liam’s laughing, the bastard, his loud chuckles starting the others off. I look around, waiting for someone to enlighten me. Sunny’s looking as mystified as myself.
It’s left for Joe to let me in on the secret, “It’s a BDSM club, darling.”
BDSM? “I, er…”
“Bondage, Domination, Submission or Sadism, and Masochism.” Rory clarifies unnecessarily. “Have you any idea what goes on in there?”
I can feel my face burning. I’ve read books, of course I have, so I’m pretty sure I could guess, and don’t need him to draw a picture. “Well, I didn’t go inside, and I didn’t even stay very long. Just long enough to be patched up.” I don’t know why I feel the urge to touch the steri-strips, but I suppose it’s to emphasise what happened. “Wait.” It’s just dawned on me. “How do you guys know of that club?”
“We’re not the ones who have to explain,” Mickey growls, “It’s you that needs to tell us what the fuck went on when you got inside.”
I glare at the tone of his voice, but don’t remind them again I’m an adult.
Reaching forward to the coffee table, Joe picks up the makings for a joint, then sitting back, starts to roll it. “So, what happened then? If you didn’t stay there long, why the bloody hell have you only just come back?”
And now I have to explain exactly who took me home. And of course, cause a predictable eruption about me going off with a strange man.
“For fuck’s sake, girl. Of all the stupid things you could have done, that comes right at the very top.” Mickey had retaken his seat, now his clenched fists are bouncing off his thighs, “You went home with someone you’d only just met and who you knew absolutely fuck all about? Why the hell didn’t you ask for some money, get a cab, and come home?”
I just stare at him, and then look around at the look of censure on everyone’s fac
es. Put like that, it does seem like I acted pretty crazily. But this scene is exactly what I’d wanted to avoid. “I told Mara. I sent her a message.”
“You told that bitch? She was probably drunk and in bed with a man she’d picked up,” Ben scoffs. Hmm, seems I’m not the only one aware of her reputation. “She knew who you were with? Why didn’t she tell Mickey when he asked? We’ve been going out of our minds.” I feel a twinge of guilt that I’d worried them so much by telling Mara it was a secret. Ben leaves his seat, and comes to crouch in front of me, covering my hands with his, “What happened, Janna? Did this sheikh touch you? Did he… Were you forced…” His fingers stroke my hands, and the fallen look on his face makes me want to reassure him.
“He was a perfect gentleman.” I put his worries to rest quickly, “He didn’t touch me at all. Except when he woke me up to check I didn’t have concussion.” I didn’t think it would be helpful to mention he’d spooned behind me most of the night, or, that if he’d seemed at all willing, that I might have allowed things to go further. Which would be farther than I’d ever been with any man before. It’s a strange confession for someone my age. Not only has there not been anyone who’s come up to my over protective guardians’ very high standards, it’s only recently that I’ve started being interested in what it is that makes the women the guys bring home scream with such delight. Oh yeah, I hear it all from my room.
“And he was a real-life sheikh? What was he like? What’s his name?”
Trust Sunny to grab hold of that part. I grin, “Yeah, he is. Sheikh Jasim, he’s called. He’s obviously very rich. But, normal with it, if you know what I mean? I wouldn’t have guessed he’s got a title until the other man used it.” I remember him offering to make me a cup of tea earlier with no airs and graces.
Dark Horses: (Blood Brothers #5) Page 4
