by Kishan Paul
Eddie’s trigger finger flexed. He’d learned long ago, things were never as they appeared. This was clearly such a situation. He crept beneath the window and made his way to the patio door. When he gripped the knob, it turned easily. His eyes narrowed. It wasn’t locked. Soundlessly, he rotated the handle and sucked in a breath. One chance was all he had. If he fucked up, they’d pay with their lives.
Before he blew out the breath he sucked in, he shoved the back door open. He’d already scanned the space, stepped in, and used his foot to close the door behind him by the time asshole and Farah were on their feet.
“Bhai.”
Seeing the smile on her tear-stained face sent a surge of adrenaline through him. But it wasn’t time to celebrate. Asshole took a step back. Eddie pointed the gun at his head. “On your knees. Now,” he hissed.
Farah moved in front of the man and extended her arms out. “It’s okay, Razaa. He’s going to help us.”
Asshole who currently used his sister as a human shield stared at Eddie from behind her head. A fresh cut ran along the man’s left cheek. The muscles in Eddie’s jaw twitched. “Farah, he might be your forever friend.” He kept his gun steady and moved around the room for a clearer shot. “But to me, he’s the bastard who kidnapped you and Amirah.” Eddie saw no signs of a weapon on the man but he couldn’t be sure. He jutted his chin at him. “And you. I’m the one with the gun, not her, so get on your fucking knees and put your hands behind your head before I put a hole in it,” he growled.
His sister nodded her approval at Razaa, at which point he lowered himself to his knees and complied. From the back of the room, a baby’s wail erupted.
Farah looked between the open door from where the cries originated, to the man on his knees, to Eddie. “She is hungry and I need to feed her. Promise me you won’t kill him.”
Eddie circled the man on the floor and approached him from behind. “As long as he does what I tell him, he will live.” For now.
“What happened to your face?” Eddie asked the kid after Farah disappeared.
Razaa stared at the ground. “Your sister.”
The reply made Eddie grin. By the time Amirah’s cries were silenced, he had cable-tied Razaa’s wrists behind him and cleared the other rooms for potential dangers. A handgun sat on the kitchen counter. He grabbed it and sat on the couch beside the target. He planted the newly found weapon on the cushion beside him and kept his PPK aimed at his head. “So, Razaa let’s have a chat.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
THE PATH TO SUCCESS
The early morning sky remained pitch black when the Azaan from a nearby mosque floated through the walls of the house. Ally closed her eyes and absorbed his soulful call to prayer. When he spoke about the path to success, she hung her head. As far as she knew, Alyah was still in the house, and since Eddie had not paid her another visit, Farah was still locked away somewhere. To top it all off, time was running out. Her path to success seemed more and more like a mirage.
Ally’s chest tightened as her lungs transformed into rigid steel. She sucked in some air and released it slowly, fighting through the terror choking her. The thud of footsteps approaching her room intensified her panic. There were no more options. If she didn’t change Shariff’s mind, they would all die. Goosebumps pebbled her skin when he knocked at her door.
It’s show time.
A tear slipped down her cheek as David’s catch phrase floated through her head. She sucked in another lungful of air and imagined him wiping the tear away. She had no idea how the day would end, but the possibility of her soul reuniting with his by the time the sun set floated into her mind. The thought calmed her.
“Bhaabi, good morning. It’s your favorite brother-in-law.” The fake peppiness in Shariff’s voice ground against her ears.
She wiped the thin film of perspiration from her forehead and rose from the bed. With unsteady hands, she unlatched the lock and opened the door. Shariff stood before her in the hall, his usual designer jeans and tee replaced with a tailored silk kurta in ivory. The fabric clung to his broad shoulders, accentuating his muscular chest, and fell well below his knees, revealing the slim matching pants below. Delicate gold embroidery wrapped around his Nehru collar and around the cuffs of his bunched-up sleeves. Long curls, which typically hung loose, were tied back tight and his face freshly shaved.
As usual, a smirk stretched across his face, but what caught her attention was the rage brewing in his eyes. She pretended not to notice and raised a brow, looking him over a second time. “Impressive. What’s the occasion?”
His grin widened but did nothing to soften the intensity in his gaze. “So many things.” He glanced over his shoulder at the two guards standing against the wall and then back at her. “All of which we need to discuss. Now.”
She tightened her grip on the knob. “Let me get dressed first.”
“By all means.” He took a step forward as she slammed the door in his face and locked it.
Shariff’s laughter chased her to the bathroom. “Be sure to wear the peach outfit I picked for you,” he said through the wooden barrier.
Ally tied the drawstring of her snug cotton leggings and inspected herself in the mirror. Delicate golden thread formed intricate designs over the peach bodice, sleeves, and scarf. The embellished fabric fit snug against her chest and waist, flaring out in layers of peach and gold silk to the floor, hiding the tight pants beneath. Although the outfit’s pale sheer fabric was lined with silk to conceal her breasts, the way it clung to her chest had the opposite effect. The long sleeves were left sheer, showing off the bare arms beneath.
She twisted a few locks of her hair around her fingers and checked her makeup for the thousandth time. It wasn’t Rizwan she hoped to impress—it was his son. But how far would she go to do so? With a palm on her stomach, she looked herself in the eyes through the mirror. Anything for Farah and Amirah. It was the idea of what anything would entail that scared her.
The light rasping at the door made her flinch. She was stalling, and clearly, he knew it. When she opened it, Shariff stood with a hand on either side of the threshold, looming over her.
“It looks better on you than I imagined.” While his hungry gaze roamed her body, she took in the two guards standing behind him.
As usual, they avoided her gaze. Like Shariff, they also dressed up for the visit. Their jeans and tees were replaced with clean and pressed traditional attire. One held a plate overflowing with fruit and sweets while the other carried a tray with a carafe and cups.
The corner of Shariff’s mouth lifted. “Do I need to feel you for weapons before we enter?”
Sirens roared in her head, shrieking danger, but she fought the reflex to look away. “Where in this outfit would I have space to hide a weapon?”
“I’m not quite sure.” His attention lingered over her hips and breasts before finally meeting her eyes. “But it would be exhilarating to find out.”
She stepped aside, granting him access. After she shut the door on the guards, she turned to find him standing behind her.
He grabbed her hips, pressing her body to his.
Her head clouded with memories of Sayeed and the trauma she endured. A battle of emotions raged within; fear for herself and a need to protect the others challenging each other for dominance. Focusing on the latter, she locked the fear away into the far recesses of her mind. The repercussions of her decisions, she’d deal with later. Instead of moving away, she brushed the back of her hand against his cheek. Shariff closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers. “You are a dangerous woman, Bhaabi.”
Before she could respond, there was a loud knock at the door.
He let out a breath and stepped away from her. When he opened her door, the guards stood at the entrance with their trays. He ran a hand over his tightly pulled back hair and smiled at her. “It may be wiser if we sit outside on your patio and cool down.”
She swallowed hard, forcing herself to stay on task. “Is that what
you want?”
When she took a step toward him, he raised his hand. “For now.”
Ally stayed on the lit terrace while Shariff led the men out of her room. The food sat on the center of her tiny table with two chairs on either side. She leaned against the railing and stared out into the courtyard. A soft breeze caressed her cheeks and played with her hair as it swept past. Lamp posts were scattered around the grounds, illuminating the darkness with their yellow glow.
Shariff approached behind her, but she didn’t acknowledge his presence.
“Do you do that often?” he asked as he slid beside her.
She gripped the metal railing and reminded herself of her mission. “Stare at the sky?”
He laughed. “No, slam doors in men’s faces.”
“Only if they are related to you.”
“Not everyone related to me is an arsehole.” He put an arm around her waist and stared out at the sky. “It is lovely, isn’t it? It takes me back to better times.”
The anger she saw in his eyes earlier seemed to soften. “Times when you were here with your mother?”
He nodded. “On nights like this, she and I used to sleep out on the terrace. It was only a sheet, a pillow, and the two of us with the stars and the moon.”
Ally ran her hand over the cool iron bar of the railing, honing in on the sadness in his tone. “They say the first few years are the most crucial in a person’s development. That it impacts the way they see themselves and the world around them for them rest of their lives.”
Shariff hadn’t stiffened, nor had he pulled away, so she continued. “Your mom loved you. She showed you how valuable you were.”
“And then she died. Like your parents.” He gave her waist a squeeze. “It’s hard to remember one is valuable in a world where so many make it a point to devalue you, don’t you think?”
The motorized gates to the home opened, drawing their attention. A shudder ran down the length of her spine. She stiffened when the gates slammed shut. Soon tires crunching over the gravel filled the otherwise silent morning. Shariff’s fingers dug into her hip and from the corner of her eye, she noticed the tight smile on his face.
It wasn’t until the car rolled up the driveway and parked that she finally broke the silence. “Your father?”
He shook his head. “He’s not expected for another half hour.”
If it wasn’t Rizwan, then who? A movement from below caught her attention. Alyah rushed across the roundabout. A sleeping Aadam lay in her arms, his head resting on her shoulder and a bag dangling from her wrist.
Ally’s fingers squeezed the smooth iron bars of the balcony.
“Alyah Bhaabi,” Shariff yelled.
The poor woman almost tripped on her shoes at the sound of his voice. The fear on her face when she looked up at them made Ally wince. She willed them to get in the car and leave before anyone stopped them.
“Where are you going this early in the morning?”
Alyah opened the passenger door and laid the sleeping child in the backseat. After her son was secure, she stood by the car door and flashed a tight smile at them. “I have some last minute purchases to make before your father arrives.”
“Excellent,” he said dryly. “But why isn’t Wassim coming with you?”
She shook her head. “He has too much to do here to prepare for the visit.”
Shariff feigned understanding while his tone screamed something more. “Why not leave the sleeping baby at home?”
Alyah shook her head and gave instructions to the driver, who sat patiently inside the vehicle.
He leaned over to Ally. “She’s going off to buy things this early in the morning. Nothing is even open yet.”
Ally shrugged but didn’t trust herself to respond.
A woman hurried outside to the car, carrying a tote bag. A chill shot through Ally at the sight of her. Unlike yesterday’s bright orange, today she wore floral yellow. Alyah took the bag from her, tossing it onto the floor of the backseat.
“Parsa.” Shariff waved at the woman in yellow below. “You should go with them to make sure they return on time. I’m sure Bhaabi could use your help.”
She squeezed the cool metal of the bannister so tightly it cut into her skin.
When Parsa attempted to get in the car, Alyah said something to her, which made her stop. The woman stepped back, shot Shariff a look, and disappeared into the house. A few minutes later, the car drove away with Alyah and Aadam.
It wasn’t until after they vanished beneath the trees that Ally was able to breathe again.
“Crazy women,” he muttered and then squeezed her elbow. “Come, let’s have some breakfast.”
She listened for the gate closing before she unwound her fingers from the railing and followed him back to the seat.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
LIGHT READING
Eddie lowered himself in between a large cluster of trees and bushes. He’d noticed the spot a few days ago and had made a mental note of it. Tall, flowering shrubs surrounded the trunks, providing an excellent cover. The perfect location for his needs. His duffle lay beside him. He moved a couple of the branches of the bush in front and positioned his binoculars, zooming in on the yellow light glowing from the bedroom of the darkened third floor balcony of the house.
He didn’t need to check his watch to know it was around five in the morning. The Azaan from a local mosque floated through the air, and a few seconds later, another call to prayer from a distant mosque echoed the words of the first. Soon the sun would rise and the day would start. If his plan worked, it would be a day most of the people in the home would not live to see the end of.
Farah and the baby were safe, out of harm’s way. And as much as he wanted to kill Razaa for putting everyone in this hell, his sister made a powerful argument for why he should live. It helped that his story about David’s death and how he ended up with Shariff went along with Eddie’s theories. Now, if the kid didn’t follow through on his promises, he’d be dead before the afternoon.
Eddie dropped his binoculars and unzipped his bag. Time to prep for the morning festivities. A few minutes later, the metal magazine of his .30 caliber rifle locked into place. He angled the weapon and stared into the telescopic lens. A few hundred yards away, on the bottom floor corner, stood a set of sliding glass doors—the target. He positioned the rifle according to what he remembered about the layout of the room hidden behind thick curtains. It would be a clear shot.
To his left, a light on the third level terrace turned on. Eddie lowered the weapon, grabbed his binoculars, and focused on the spot. The door opened. His body tensed as soon as Shariff and two guards entered the balcony. What the fuck were they doing in her room? A second later, Alisha joined them.
Two thirds of the men with her had openly discussed the prospect of raping her before they killed her. The final one third was the asswipe who brought her into the house and hadn’t been able to keep his fucking hands off her since.
The guards slid trays of food on the plastic table and nodded at whatever Shariff said. While Eddie kept his focus on them, he dug into his bag, feeling for the cell phone with earbuds wound around it.
Alisha wore a light colored top that fit her curves. Considering the company that surrounded her, it fit a little too well for his comfort. Although she seemed calm and collected, Eddie would have bet money on the fact that her knuckles were white. He unwound the wires from the phone and plugged one of the buds into his ear as he turned on the device.
The guards left the balcony and walked out the bedroom. Shariff followed them to the door, shutting and locking them out. Alisha leaned against the railing, and by the time he returned to the balcony, Eddie had the audio up and working. Soon the horny asshole’s voice filled his ear. “Not everyone related to me is an arsehole.”
Eddie rolled his eyes. Bull-fucking-shit. Shariff put an arm around her waist, and when he pressed his groin against her ass, Eddie found himself considering the prospect of grabbing his h
andgun, sneaking in through her closet, and shooting both of the little dick’s heads off.
“It is lovely, isn’t it? It takes me back to better times,” he said, while staring down her shirt.
“Patience,” Eddie muttered under his breath while he listened to their conversation. “Need to be fucking patient.”
He focused the weapon on Shariff. His index finger rested firmly against the trigger. One little application of pressure on the metal and a bullet would go straight through the asshole’s head. An asshole who stood way to close to Alisha for his taste. A muscle in his jaw twitched as he tried to rein in his urge to finish him off.
Stick with the plan, he told himself. Killing Shariff now would make the others run. Escape was not the outcome he intended for any of them. She'd gone through hell. Had her life ripped apart one too many times and today he’d make it all end.
He observed them as his mind drifted to five years ago. In an unfurnished room, he faced a computer monitor watching the same woman, but back then, she was tormented by a different brother. And seated across from Eddie had been her husband.
David's shook with rage as Sayeed tormented his wife. Eddie had considered the man’s inability to keep his emotions in check a handicap and regretted bringing him along on the mission. Probably because the woman they had watched meant nothing to him. Just a picture. A name. A means to get the man he'd dreamed of killing for years.
This time it was different and watching Shariff touch Alisha triggered a kind of anger, a possessiveness he'd never felt before. The kind that made it hard for him to think straight and hard to not kill whoever hurt her. The kind David had felt five years ago.
His brows rose as soon as the realization hit. The kind David felt? Where the fuck did that come from? He shook it off and lowered his weapon. This was not the time to get emotional, not if he wanted to get her out alive. And he would. For her. For David. His face heated. He'd finish this.
