The Deadly Match

by Kishan Paul

  “It can kill!”

  She jumped at Jayden’s screamed statement but relaxed at her son’s laughter that followed. And at the realization he quoted a line from one of their favorite television shows. The sound eased a bit of the heat burning through her chest. “Like I said, Jayden needs his brother today. And since it sucks to have to do this alone every damn time, I need my son today.”

  He didn’t respond. She glanced out at the large waves crashing against the ferry, bracing herself for his refusal.

  “Then we’ll stick to the original plan. You’ll have both of us today.”

  Ally’s muscles eased. “Thank you.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  THE SOLDIER’S TRUTH

  What the fuck am I doing? A growl rolled up Eddie’s throat, escaping through clenched teeth. It’s the same question he’d asked himself all day. He crossed his arms and stared out one of the floor-to-ceiling windows making up the entire west wall of the rental house. The sun had set hours ago, and the courtyard he surveyed glowed a pale yellow from the lamps scattered across the property. He fixed his gaze on the woman seated beneath the gazebo. She’d done it again. Used her mind control powers, silenced logical rational thought, allowing access to pure stupidity instead. His ass should have been on a flight back to India right now, not planning for a kiddie party for four.

  The team had contacted him while he sailed along Puget Sound that morning. After trailing Adil for months, they’d lost him. The tightly wound muscles along Eddie’s neck clenched. Too many things about the situation didn’t sit right with him and hadn’t for a while. The top of that list being that they’d allowed the only potential connection they had to Wassim to slip through their fingers. He pursed his lips. First thing in the morning, he and Raz would head back to India and help sniff him out, no arguments, no debate.

  He let out a breath and assessed the world outside. A few hundred yards away loomed the palace of a home belonging to Little Bear’s hematologist. Alisha appeared to have shared her secret mind-bending powers with her youngest. Who then cast his spell on the good doctor. The end result: they paid below-market rent on the furnished guest home within the secured grounds of the doctor’s impressive property. The four-thousand-square-foot guest house had four bedrooms, five baths, living, dining, and a fancy kitchen. Every single one of its rooms was excessively large. To top it all off, the location was about fifteen minutes from the hospital and a safe place for her, the kid, and the dogs.

  Speaking of hospital…

  She hadn’t revealed how the appointments went, including the meeting with the representative from the donor registry. Eddie’s gaze fell on her and Raz seated in the gazebo beside a fancy pool. Their wicker chairs faced each other, their heads bowed, almost touching, while she held his hand in hers. He leaned in, watching the master at work, whispering convincing words in her son’s ears.

  While she performed her magic on Raz, Eddie tapped into his logical brain, arming himself for battle. No matter what sob stories she pulled, she would not be allowed anywhere near Wassim. Potential arguments rang in his head. Yes, Little Bear was sick, and yes, the longer they waited the sicker he’d probably get, but at the end of the day, they did not need Sara Irfani to appear for that match to materialize. His mind wandered to the child asleep in the bedroom down the hall. He rubbed at the muscle that tugged in his chest.

  After the ferry docked in Seattle, they drove on to the hospital. The little guy had left the vehicle yapping about their evening festivities. Now, eight hours later, the same kid had returned exhausted. As she predicted, the appointment wore him out. Without waking him, Raz had scooped him up out of the SUV, carried him in the house, and laid him on his bed a good two hours ago.

  Apollo rubbed his head against Eddie’s thigh as if the dog knew where his mind wandered. He scratched the four-legged creature’s head. Little Bear was the pooch’s world, not its master but more a part of the pack it swore to protect. The poor dog had been restless all day. An agitation that increased when he and Raz deposited the large Husky at the guest house and went shopping for supplies for the Hell Day Survival celebration. When they returned an hour later, it paced the same passageway waiting for its child’s return. Once he did return, the loyal dog had laid down at the foot of the bed Little Bear slept on and hadn’t stirred—until now. Eddie let the dog out to do its business and wandered inside Little Bear’s room to check on him.

  Eddie stepped in the darkened room and gazed at him. Stretched out on his stomach, diagonal across the queen-size mattress, the child had his arms and legs extended in random directions. For a kid, he sure took up a lot of space.

  Beside the nightstand lay the action figure they’d ordered the day before, still in its package. A bright yellow label stuck to the outside with the words “express delivery” in all capitals. Eddie picked up the box and stared at the gun-wielding Rambo secured inside. He glanced over at the kid, noticing the shiny silver Band-Aids peppering both his arms—his battle wounds from the day’s appointment. He shook his head and began work on getting Rambo out of its plastic prison.

  Unfortunately, the sound of ripping plastic was louder than he realized.

  “It came?” a hoarse voice mumbled. Swollen, red eyes, the bottom of which were stained with deep purple circles, stared up at him.

  Eddie didn’t answer. Instead, he slid the figure on the pillow beside the child. His small hand reached for it and grabbed the soldier. He pulled it to his cheek, sandwiching Rambo between his head and the pillow.

  “Thank you, Rambo Uncle,” he said before falling back to sleep. A smile pulled at the sleeping child’s lips, making one form on Eddie’s face as well. No wonder so many people and animals loved him. He grabbed the kicked-aside blanket and pulled it over the child, pausing when he noticed the medical tape peeking out from under the kid’s shirt.

  He stepped backward toward the door and stood at the threshold, staring at the sleeping child with a fierce grip around Rambo. His army was now complete, but the shitty truth was that no matter how strong of an army he had, even with Rambo at the front line, it didn’t always mean a win.

  CHAPTER TEN

  DINESH PATEL

  Seated in one of the four wicker chairs under the gazebo, Ally played with the straw in her fountain drink while Razaa sat across from her eating his bacon cheeseburger. The amenities of the guesthouse included the jacuzzi and a two-tiered swimming pool beside them. Neither of which they’d used in the six months of leasing the property. After the hours of tests and procedures he endured, Jayden typically had little interest in anything but sleeping, and today was no different.

  “I talked to the representative,” she announced.

  He finished his bite and took a swig of his cola before responding. “What did she say?”

  Her straw squeaked when she slid it up and down the plastic lid as she regarded him. He knew more than he let on. Her gut screamed it from the moment he’d shown up the day before. The meeting with the representative confirmed her theory and so much more. “A lot.”

  Her mind sifted through what she could and could not share. When she entered the conference room of the hospital earlier that day, she’d assumed it was for a face to face with one of the reps from the donor registry. Although their conversation centered around Jayden’s stem cell needs, the woman she spent the next half hour with was not the employee she anticipated, and the information she provided went far beyond what the registry could have offered.

  “Like?” Razaa took another bite of his dinner, and a tomato fell out from the layers of meat and cheese, plopping on the paper wrapper he used as a plate.

  “Does the name Dinesh Patel mean anything to you?”

  Aside from the stiffening of his shoulders and how his eyes stopped blinking, her son seemed to have opted for a poker-face approach. He wiped his mouth with a napkin before wadding it up and tossing it in the paper bag on the table. “Who exactly did you say you met with again?”

  “A representat
ive named Susan.” She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. “She told me that out of the hundreds of people who’ve given samples, one came up as a potential match. Dinesh Patel.”

  He busied himself with removing the top bun of his half-eaten burger, picking up a tomato and a few other veggies that had fallen out, and placing them inside before returning the bread.

  “And he is not a typical match. He’s haplo-compatible with Jayden. Matches like that typically occur between biological parents and their children. Considering Alyah is dead, that leaves his father.”

  Razaa didn’t reply, but her words must have had an impact. Instead of eating the rest of his meal, he enfolded it in the paper wrapper.

  “Wassim has to be Dinesh Patel,” she added.

  “Has to be doesn’t mean is. It sounds like they haven’t verified anything.” He tossed his unfinished meal into the bag in front of him. “Don’t get your hopes up. Not until we have more information.” Her son planted his elbows on the table and leaned forward on them. “What bothers me is the fact this representative shared unconfirmed information with you. I thought they weren’t allowed to release potential donor names without doing more investigation. Who was this woman?”

  She rose from her seat, sat in the chair beside him, and grabbed his hands. “The fact that you’re focusing on the woman and not the information tells me that you know who he is. Don’t you?”

  Razaa let out a breath and leaned his head back. He stared at the ceiling fan above him, preparing to further his lie. “Mom…”

  “Stop lying to me,” she snapped, “and answer the question honestly. Who is Dinesh Patel?”

  His hand fisted under her grip, and he surveyed her as if bracing himself for attack.

  She needed him to be honest, not only because she was his mother but also because the only way to sway Eddie was if her son aligned with her. “Your brother is suffering. Either help me make his pain stop, or get out of the way and let me do it alone.”

  Hurt flashed across his face. “Don’t you think I want the same?” He leaned his face inches from hers. “I would do anything for you and Jay.”

  “Then. Talk.”

  Razaa glanced over her shoulder at the guest house behind her. She gripped his chin and returned his focus on her. “Don’t bring Eddie into this. This is between a mother and her son.”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed, and after a few seconds of a staring match between the two, he finally slammed his eyes shut. “I sent a message to Wassim, letting him know that his son was sick, and sent the swab test, but I didn’t think he’d take it.”

  Adrenaline coursed through her. “Wassim is Dinesh Patel.”

  He nodded.

  The information Susan shared with her a few hours before aligned with Razaa’s words. “And he took the test.”

  He raised a hand as if trying to shove back the excitement brimming within her. “Ask yourself why.”

  “I know why.”

  Razaa’s jaw flexed. “He doesn’t care about helping Jay. He just wants you.”

  She grabbed his hands. “Then take me with you and offer Wassim the one thing he wants.”

  “Not an option,” he snapped.

  “And burying your brother is?” A mix of anger and desperation burned through her. “He is getting weaker, Razaa. The AA has taken a toll on him. I don’t know how much more of this his body can handle.” Her voice cracked. “Wassim is the only option we have. He’s Jayden’s biological father. The test proves he’s a match. He can cure your brother. If he knows I am there…”

  “He’s going to what?” Razaa stretched out his arms. “Walk up to you, roll his sleeve up, and say ‘here, take my stem cells?’”

  “I wish.” She laughed. “But, no. He’s too selfish. He’ll want payment.”

  “And if that payment is Jay?”

  Her smile faltered. She inspected the floor. “We’ll deal with that once your brother is healthy.”

  “And if the payment is you?”

  When she tried to answer, Razaa cut her off. “Maybe you’ve forgotten, but he wants you dead. It’s the real reason why he took that test and mailed in the specimen.”

  “I haven’t forgotten, but maybe you’ve forgotten who I am.”

  His scowl deepened, and he shifted in his seat.

  “I’ve had to say goodbye to people I loved, and I’ve survived each of those losses. But Jay…” Proof of her despair slipped down her cheeks. “We can’t lose him, Razaa. Not when we know we don’t have to.”

  When he opened his mouth to argue, she interrupted him. “For reasons we don’t understand, Wassim took the test and mailed in his sample. We need to find him. To give him a chance to save his son’s life.”

  “Save his son’s life?” He laughed. “He doesn’t care about his son.”

  “But he cares about finding me.” She pressed his hand to her cheek. “It worked, Razaa. Everything you’ve done has led us to this point. The rest you can’t do without me. You know I’m right. His hatred for me is the one thing he will come out of hiding for. With you and Eddie and this ALPS team there, we will help Jayden and finally be free of Wassim.”

  He rose to his feet. “You have a lot of faith in people you know very little about. We’re still pretty new. What happens if we can’t save you?”

  “I hate the idea of you even being involved in this, but that debate is for another time. Right now, what I know is that you and Eddie will do everything in your power to make sure I walk out of there alive.”

  He kept his back to her while he stared out at the darkness.

  She followed him to the side of the pool, taking in the tension pulsing from him. “Razaa…”

  “No.”

  Ally gripped his elbow. “You know it’s the only way. We can’t afford to wait anymore. You’ve tried to do this without me, now use me.”

  He pulled his arm out of her hand, and when she reached for him a second time, he moved even farther away. “I said no.”

  His sharp tone stung. In all their years together, he’d never raised his voice at her. Disappointment filled her eyes. “Tell me why.”

  “I’m not losing you too,” he hissed. “I already have your husband’s blood on my hands. I will not have yours too.” He turned away from her, planted his hands on the back of his head, and stared into the distance.

  Razaa’s pained confession sliced through her. She stared at his back, at the way his shoulders dropped from the weight of the guilt they carried. His words didn’t surprise her. She’d known, seen the burden he bore, but hearing it uttered made his pain more palpable. “My husband’s death was not your fault.”

  Razaa returned to his seat and lowered himself onto it, resting his head in his hands.

  “If I could take that guilt away from you, I would.” She pulled her chair in front of his, seated herself before him, and pulled his hands from his face. “But hear me. I have never and will never blame you for what happened.”

  “Really?” Red-rimmed eyes fixed on her. “You can’t even say his name around me.”

  She flinched. Her eyes stung with tears she blinked away. “My not being able to talk about him has everything to do with me and nothing to do with you,” she whispered.

  She gripped his palms, lost in her thoughts. In her attempt to hide from her past, from her pain, she’d become the source of another’s pain. He misinterpreted her silence, her efforts to survive, and created a narrative that supported his theory that she believed him at fault. “When I was a little girl, I used to be scared of my own shadow.”

  Razaa’s head stayed bowed, but she knew he listened.

  “My birth father used to tell me: ‘Don’t fear your shadow. As long as there is light in the world, it will always be with you. Your silent companion.’”

  She focused on the memory taking shape in her mind. “He said as you grow bigger, it will grow with you. It knows all your mistakes, your joys, your pains and will keep them a secret. And he was right. After he and my mo
ther died, the shadow stayed. Even crossed the ocean and came to a new country with me.”

  The recollection of her father shifted to another time with another man. “After I got married, I shared my father’s story with my husband, and he started talking to my shadow.” The corner of her mouth quirked up.

  So many good times, so much love, she’d shoved them all away. She twined her fingers through Razaa’s. “You’re right.” She swallowed the regret and tried to focus on his pain. “I don’t say his name, but it’s not because of you. It’s because of me. I’m so angry at him for dying—for leaving me alone with my shadow…”

  “I’m the reason you were angry,” he whispered.

  She shook her head. “You don’t get to own my feelings. Those are mine and mine alone to experience, and by shoving them away, I have allowed them to hurt not only me, but all of you. I’m sorry, because it’s not until now that I understand the damage I’ve done. As far as his death, I have never, and will never, blame you for what happened.” Her voice cracked. “My wish for you is that one day you see yourself the way your brother and I see you, because the man sitting in front of me is amazing. He has been my rock through some of my hardest times.”

  He stared at the floor and said nothing.

  “Thank you. You made me realize that by ignoring and fearing my past, I’ve allowed it to punish us both.”

  He met her gaze.

  “You believed it to mean I blamed you for things I have never blamed you for. And it clearly hasn’t done me any good.” She pressed her palm against his cheek, making sure he heard her every word. “Our past is proof we survived. It’s evidence not just of our mistakes, but of our strengths, of our character, our values. Proof people loved us. They found us worthy. Not all those people stay in our lives. But the love we received from them, during those short periods they touched us, is worth the agony of losing them.” She used her thumb to wipe away the lone tear that streaked his cheek. “You and I, we’ve lost so much, but had we not lost those things, we wouldn’t be here together now.”