by Kishan Paul
She met his gaze, wishing she possessed the abilities he described. “Maybe I can.”
His laugh echoed through the room.
The bartender carrying a drink of deep brown sauntered toward him. Her black shoulder-length hair hung loose; the curled ends bounced with each step. The woman’s white top was sheer, revealing her unrestricted breasts. Red leather pants clung to her hips like a second skin. She handed him the drink, making sure to lean her cleavage in his face in the process. Wassim took a moment to appreciate the view and cupped her rear, guiding it and the body connected to it on to his lap.
Once he’d situated her bottom on his thigh, he returned his attention to Ally, the proud sneer on his face widening. He was king and wanted to make sure everyone knew it. “You are nothing to be scared of.”
Still on her knees, she flashed her restrained wrists. “Considering I am still tied, I think you might be a little scared of me.”
The grin on Wassim’s lips faltered. He raised his glass at an individual behind her. “Untie the witch, and if she tries to kill anyone, shoot her in the head.”
She flinched at his threat and glanced in the direction he spoke, her gaze landing on Adil. Her chest tightened at the sight of him.
He grabbed her elbow and yanked her onto her feet. Ally planted her hand on his chest, taking him in.
With tightened lips, Adil shoved her hands away. Unlike hers, his touch was rough, twisting her arms and scratching her skin with his nails as he worked the cords loose and tossed them to the ground.
“Thank you, Adil,” she said while rubbing the cuts along her wrists.
He didn’t reply. Instead, he stepped back and looked ahead, making it clear she no longer had an effect on him.
She turned her focus to the woman in Wassim’s lap, a dramatic contrast to Alyah. Granted, both were beautiful, but this one used her body in a way his late wife never did. From her flawless makeup to the coy smiles she flashed at him to how she snuggled up against him, she knew exactly how much to give and how much to take.
The woman ran a hand up and down his thigh while whispering in his ear. But through all the seductive games she played, there was one thing she couldn’t hide: her eyes. No matter how wide she smiled or how loud she laughed, those dark beautiful orbs were dull, lifeless.
“We all have things that scare us, Wassim.” Ally spoke as much for him as the girl in his lap.
He shrugged. “Maybe. But you are no longer on my list of things I fear.”
“You are still on mine.” She rubbed the cuts on her free wrists. “Monsters like you scare me.”
“You think me a monster?” The amusement in his laugh grated against her ears. “I like the title, actually.” He waved her forward.
When she didn’t move, fingers scraped against her scalp, grabbing and twisting a fistful of her hair so tight, her skin pulled from her skull. The impact watered her eyes.
Adil used his grip to propel her forward, shoving her at Wassim. She reached out for the headrest of Wassim’s chair before Adil forced her onto his already-occupied lap. Thousands of tiny currents of heat shot through her scalp and neck when he twisted his fistful of her hair tighter and yanked her head back, positioning her face inches from Wassim’s.
“You haven’t asked me why I’m not afraid.” A mix of cigarettes and scotch filled her nostrils when he spoke.
Her heart slammed against her breast. She gripped Adil’s wrist, pushing it toward her head to ease the pressure, and kept her focus on the bigger threat. “Why are you not scared of me anymore, Wassim?”
“Because I understand what you are now.” He leaned back in his chair and took a swallow of his drink. “You are a disease. You crawl under the skin and attack the body, spreading your poison to each organ as you move.” He touched the base of the drink against his forehead. “Polluting the brain, making it hard for them to think.” He pressed his glass against his neck. “And then their throat, making it hard to speak.” Wassim lowered his drink to his chest. “All the way down, weakening the victim until you kill him.” He took a sip. “For the longest time, I considered you incurable, unpreventable. An attack no one could protect themselves from. But now I know different.”
She returned his smile and steadied her voice. “I’m impressed.”
His brows rose, encouraging her to continue.
“Not only do you dress better, it seems your vocabulary has improved since we last met.”
He stilled. His Adam’s apple rose and fell when he took another gulp of his drink.
She tightened her grip on the back of the chair, bracing herself for his punishment.
Wassim nodded as if reading her mind and handed the woman his empty glass. He cupped Ally’s chin, digging his fingertips into her cheeks. His nails cut through her flesh while his grip crushed her bone. He gave her face a hard shake. “Get this thing out of my face.”
Adil yanked her hair backward, only releasing his grip when she fell onto her back.
Out of breath but still alive, she stared up at the twisted chunk of hair hanging from her son’s hand. She touched the tender spot on the top of her head and the warmth of the blood gushing from the wound. A satisfied glint in his eyes, Adil tossed it at her.
“Not only do you have no power over anyone in this room,” Wassim said, “I understand how to vanquish what little you do have before another man falls prey to your evil. Want to know what that is?”
She climbed to her feet, scrutinizing the other members in the room. Five men on chairs beside the bar. Rafi raised his glass and took a sip when she swept her gaze past him. Behind the counter stood Madam, leaning on her elbows. Six pairs of eyes fixed on the show in which she and Wassim shared the starring lead.
Ally smoothed down her hair, wiping the blood dampening her fingers on her clothes, and faced the man who controlled them all. “You think the only way to get rid of me is to kill me. But I have no plans of hurting you, Wassim.”
He shook his head and laughed as if she’d made a joke.
“You are the devil himself.” She eyed the woman in his lap, noticing that his half-dressed prop listened to her. “Only a devil would put innocent people in cages and treat them the way you do.”
He turned his attention to the prop in question. His finger brushed lazily along the side of her breast up to her nipple. “Have I treated you badly?”
Her red-stained lips stretched in a smile, and she shook her head no.
“Good. Now take my glass and wait for me in bed.”
With drink in hand, she rose to her feet. When she passed by, her eyes locked with Ally’s for a second before moving on.
Wassim rose as well. “Always so quick to pass judgment.”
Ally clutched fistfuls of her dress and willed herself to stay still while he circled her. “It was one of the reasons I wanted to kill you all those years ago when you were infecting Sayeed. And then again with Shariff. Always judging. Always interfering. Always infecting.”
His shoe slammed into the back of her knee. Pain scorched through her leg, weakening it. She landed with a thud on her knees.
“Talking to you. Looking at you. All of it disgusts me,” he hissed. “Even the fact I just touched you disgusts me.” He jabbed his finger at his chest. “You call me the devil? You are just one woman.”
He shook his head and reared his leg back. Before she could get out of its way, the hard square toe of his shoe slammed into her stomach. The force of it lifted her off the floor, throwing her back a few feet, heaving for air.
“You are the one who murdered your husband, his wife, his brother, and his father, destroyed their homes, and after all you did, you still live a good life, and yet I am the devil? Tell me how is that possible?”
She pressed a hand against the radiating burn of her waist and moved out of his way. “I want to help you rebuild your family,” she croaked. Every movement sent flames coursing through her, making the room spin and making it hard to stand. She rested her back against the side
of a sofa and waited for the pain to subside.
“How? You killed my wife and my son.” In two steps, he stood over her glaring down.
Ally shook her head. “Your son is not dead, Wassim.”
“My son is dead!” he roared. “Aadam died the minute you took him from his home and erased all memory of his family from his head and polluted him, like you did the others.”
“He hasn’t forgotten you or Alyah.” She pulled herself up to her feet, ignoring her body’s protests. “He still calls you Pappa and prays for you every night. No matter what you think, your blood flows through his veins…”
“I know whose blood is in there. Everyone here knows whose blood runs through his veins. It is not a secret I keep anymore. There’s no need.”
She held on to the armrest beside her, only easing her grip when he turned and made his way to the bar.
He mumbled to the others in the room. The men rose out of their stools and headed toward the stairs with drinks in hand. Rafi talked to the person beside him, ignoring her presence, as he moved past them. The woman in the sheer white shirt poured Wassim a new glass before she followed the rest out the door.
Everyone but Adil descended the steps, their voices and laughter echoing through the passageway. He rooted himself to the wall, meeting her gaze when it landed on him.
“I loved the child.” Wassim swallowed the last of his drink and slammed the glass onto the counter. “Not only because he was my blood, but because I knew I would be a good father to him. Just like I knew I could be a good husband to Alyah.” He approached until he stood over her, leaned down until their faces were level. “But you stole them both from me.”
“Wassim.”
“Shut up!” Anger colored his cheeks and neck as his voice rose in volume. “Unlike Sayeed and the rest, you will not pollute my mind.”
“Sayeed was a monster—”
Wassim opened his mouth to respond, but Adil spoke before he could. “Is that why you killed him?”
Ally glanced over Wassim’s shoulder at him.
“You appointed yourself judge and jury and killed our Babba because you decided he was too evil to live.” Adil’s voice echoed through the hall.
Appreciation erased the anger on Wassim’s face. He nodded his agreement and waved for Adil to continue.
Adil moved to face her while Wassim made himself comfortable in a nearby armchair. “He was the only father I knew. He was my life. My breath.” Emotion flooded the angry man’s eyes, turning them deep red as he spoke. “I would have given all I had for him. But you took him from all of us. Killed him.”
“I did.” She nodded. “I killed him. But, Adil, if I hadn’t, he would have killed all of you.”
At first, he didn’t respond, just stared at her until he finally shook his head.
He seated himself on the armchair beside Wassim and leaned the back of his head against the floral backrest. “Assuming you knew what we wanted was your biggest mistake. What you failed to realize is many of us didn’t want or need your rescuing. We were content in the life he’d given us.”
“The life he gave you had an end date. One he determined.” When she reached for his hand, he shoved her away. “He was going to kill you.”
He stared across the room, sadness clouding his features. “Several of my brothers, yes.” Adil leaned back and stretched his long arms across the backrest. “But not all. The capable ones, like me, Razaa, Omar would have still been by his side. But you took all of it away from us and now you will pay.”
Realization of his words sunk in, erasing any guilt she still carried. “I don’t regret his death. Even less now that I understand how you feel.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
FIERCE
“Which is why I agree with Wassim Bhai that you deserve to die.” Adil rose from the couch and headed for the bar, pouring himself a drink. “You not only took my father from me, but by doing so, you took my brothers, my family.”
“What is your explanation of killing the others?” Wassim’s question pulled her focus from Adil. Still in the armchair across from her, Wassim kept his attention fixed on her. “My wife, Sayeed’s brother and father. What were their crimes?”
She shook her head. “They had many crimes, but Sayeed’s was the only life I’ve ever taken. Bashir killed Alyah.”
His cheek twitched as if she’d slapped him. “Of course he did. And Shariff and Rizwan shot each other in the head. And then you saved my son from who? Me?”
“You were gone. He had no one. I couldn’t leave him there to grow up in an—”
“Enough!” Adil’s scream echoed through the otherwise quiet room. “You’ve repeated the same lies enough times you actually believe them.”
Hatred radiated from him. Her time was running out. She scanned the area for anything she could use to protect herself.
“Don’t get sucked into her games, son. Neither of us are stupid enough to believe her lies. The truth is she is a greedy woman who destroyed the ones we loved, including my child.”
She thought about the child in question. His thin frame and hallowed cheeks. “You’re right, Wassim. I have been selfish. For months, I’ve sat and watched my”—she cleared her throat—“your son weaken. I have never felt so helpless, so impotent, in my life. Then you tested positive as a match. You, as his father, his blood, can give him the one most precious gift of all—life.” Emotion burned her eyes, she allowed it to escape down her cheeks. She edged closer to the table behind her. “It made me have crazy fantasies, made me hope your love would overpower your hate. My need for him to survive blinded me and sent me here to find you. To beg for his life.”
Wassim watched her, expressionless, making her wonder if maybe she was getting through to him. She swiped the tears off her cheek with the back of her hand. “Watching your son get worse and not able to heal him has been the hardest thing I’ve ever endured. But you’re right. I was selfish. I couldn’t tolerate watching him fade away. Had I stayed with him, he would not be losing yet another person he loves.”
“If he knew the truth, he’d hate you like the rest of your sons do,” Adil sneered.
“Maybe he would.” She rested her hand on the smooth surface of the table and nodded. “And maybe you will one day get a chance to make sure that happens. But what I do know is I am all he has, and I left him to find you, Wassim. Because I had hoped you’d hear his struggle and give him the gift only you can give and save your own son’s life.”
“I can’t do this.” Adil slammed his glass on to the bar. “Stop trying to paint yourself as a hero.” He stormed for the exit. “I’m sick of looking at you, of hearing your voice. Just fucking kill her and get it over with.” The door slammed shut behind him.
Ally moved her fingers behind her toward the center of the table and listened to the echo of Adil’s shoes as they thudded against the metal steps.
“Your sons are so proud of you.” Wassim chuckled.
“As long as they are alive, I don’t regret anything I’ve done.”
“That’s the problem. They will not live as long as you do. Like I told you, you are a virus. You’ve polluted my son, too, and now he will die like the others.” He rose from his seat and planted his hands on his hips. “Do you know what my favorite kind of dreams are?
“The ones where I’m dead?” Her fingertips brushed against the smooth edge of the incense burner. While he took off his coat, she slid the burner closer to her.
Wassim worked on folding his jacket and laying it on the back of the armchair. “Those are a close second. No, my favorite ones are the ones where I’m killing you.”
She yanked out the incense sticks from inside the brass contraption and tossed them on the table.
He loosened his tie. “Some of them have been messy. Cutting you piece by piece while you beg for your life. Other times, I’m drowning you.” A smile curved up the corners of his lips. “The sight of you fighting to breathe.” He sucked in a breath. “So many options. All of them
so satisfying. Whatever should I do?”
When he pulled off his tie and dropped it on the coat, Ally tucked the brass holder behind her back. “Aadam needs you more than he ever has before.”
“Then bring him to me, and I will give him what he needs.”
“Save his life, and I will.” She wrapped her fingers around the stem.
He shook his head as if knowing exactly what she was doing. He unbuttoned one of the cuffs of his shirt, rolling up the sleeve. “Bring him here, and I will give him the kind of life you can’t.”
Her pulse rose. She knew nothing she could say would change his mind, but she needed to buy herself some time. Time to ready herself to fight him, and time in the hopes that Eddie would show up. She rubbed her thumb over the designs etched in the holder while he unbuttoned the cuff to the second sleeve. “The kind of life where you take people and children from their homes and profit from their exploitation. There are children up there, Wassim.” She steadied her voice. “Children no different from your own son.”
The back of his hand connected with her cheek before she could finish. Her eyes watered from the sting. He flexed his fingers as if making sure they still worked. “I keep telling you to shut up, and you keep talking.”
Ally wiped the trickle of blood from her lip with the back of her hand and stared at the red staining her skin. “When I first met your son, he sat in your lap, too shy and too scared to look at me. With good reason, I was a stranger in his home. He turned to you for protection, and like a good father, you held him and let him hide his face in your chest while you eased his worries.”
Wassim didn’t acknowledge her words. He picked up the rope that once bound her wrists from off the floor, wrapped the cord around his hands, making it taut, and approached.
Her pulse accelerated with each step he took. She shifted her weight, bracing herself. “He needs your protection again. I can’t give him what you can.”
“You never could.” Wassim shrugged and moved around the back of the sofa, out of her line of sight. “Like I said, bring him here. I will give him everything he needs.”