Stolen by the Sheik (Black Towers Book 2)

by Suzanne Rock

  “That seems so . . . barbaric.”

  “I suppose it would seem that way to you, but it is how things are in my country.”

  “And now?” she asked.

  “Now?” He stared at her for a long moment, as if choosing his words. “I guess I always knew that I wanted more than life was offering me. I think that’s why I pushed so hard to come to America. I told my father it was to study western culture and try to find a way to do business with America, but in reality I needed time to think things through and figure stuff out on my own.”

  “And did you?”

  He shook his head. “Not yet, but I’m close. And I know that now, if I go back, my father will call this trip a failure. He will see my arrest as proof our cultures are not compatible. I will be forbidden to return to the States and forced to marry a woman I do not love.”

  “You’re right,” Liv said. “You can’t go back.” She twirled a long strand of hair around her finger as she considered her options. “So what do we do?”

  His smile appeared sad as he closed the distance between them. “We don’t do anything.” He took her hands. “You go back to the police and explain that you were a hostage and managed to escape.”

  “But that would be lying.”

  “Shh.” He put his finger to her lips. “I have already lost so much, Olivia.” He pulled his hand away.

  “You’re being framed. It’s the only explanation.”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Are you insane? Of course it matters.”

  “The police won’t believe you without proof.”

  “Then we get proof.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know if I will be able to live with myself if something happened to you, too.”

  “Nothing will happen.”

  “Are you so sure? Remember what happened to Taz.”

  She swallowed and looked away. “It isn’t right.”

  “Promise me that you will not defend me in any way.”

  Liv blinked back tears as she met his gaze. “But—”

  “Promise.”

  She stared at him, not quite understanding. “Why?”

  “Because making me the bad guy is the only way to ensure your freedom.”

  She shook her head. “But it’s wrong.”

  “As long as you are free from this mess, it’s right.” He picked up her clothes off the floor and handed them to her. “Now get dressed and go before I change my mind.”

  “Nayo, I can’t—”

  He silenced her with a hot, passionate kiss. “Go, Olivia.” He gently brushed his knuckles down the side of her cheek. “Go talk to the police, before it’s too late.”

  Liv stared, tears streaming down her cheeks, as Nayo turned and left her to change alone.

  If that man thought she was going to pin this entire incident on him to gain her freedom, then he really didn’t know her very well.

  Shoving on her clothes, she made her way to the front door. She would leave and talk to the police, but not to do as he asked. No, she was going to fight this with everything she had.

  Nayo was a good man, and it was about time the world heard about it.

  Chapter 8

  “Come on, Ms. Bremer, you must know something. Help us help you.” The large, muscular man pulled out a chair and sat down, joining his fellow officer across the table from Liv. Leaning back in his chair as he linked his hands behind his head, he stared Liv down. His brown hair was buzzed short and the deep wrinkles around his eyes made him look older than she suspected he was. Liv figured that must be part of the job description – premature aging.

  The room in the police station they took her to for questioning was just what she imagined it would be. Cold and sterile feeling, there was nothing in the room save for a stainless steel table with three uncomfortable chairs around it. There was a small bar attached to the top that Liv assumed was for handcuffing people to the table, and she was thankful they didn’t feel the need to use it with her. At least not yet.

  The walls were a dingy looking white and with no windows in the room, the only light came from the unflattering fluorescent lights that ran along the ceiling. A cheap looking clock with a very loud tick and what Liv suspected was a two-way mirror were the only things that adorned the walls.

  The officer cleared his throat impatiently.

  Liv stared at them in shock. “He didn’t do it.”

  “How do you know?”

  She crosses her arms. “I just do.”

  “Do you know where he was at nine o’clock yesterday morning? Or at eleven?” the second cop, a woman named Becca, asked. Liv shrunk back in her seat at the sneer on the woman’s face. She looked as if she had eaten nails for breakfast.

  “I told you, we ran into each other in the Black Towers lobby. He told me that he had an appointment with Ethan Black.”

  “What were you doing in the building?” Officer Buzz-Cut asked.

  “How many times do we have to go over this? I work there!”

  “And you can verify this by. . .”

  She gave them her name and other relevant information again. “I swear that this is pointless. Why do you keep asking me the same questions over and over again? There’s a terrorist out there on the loose. Shouldn’t you be doing something to bring him in?”

  The cops exchanged a look, then the man nodded and left the room.

  “Where’s he going?” Liv asked.

  The woman opened up a folder that was sitting in front of her and started leafing through the contents. “You swear he was in a meeting all morning, is that right?”

  “That’s what he told me.”

  She pulled a photo from the file and dropped it in front of Liv. “Then how do you explain this?”

  “What is it?” Liv asked, picking up the photo and examining it.

  “This was taken at ten that same morning by the security cameras at the Chinese Theater. And this. . .” She dropped another photo on the table. “Was taken down at the port two hours before that.

  Liv placed the photos next to each other on the table and studied them. In one, a tall, dark-haired, Middle Eastern man was putting a duffle bag into a crate on the loading dock of the port. In the other, the same man, wearing the same clothes, was placing a similar duffle by the main doors of the theater.

  “This looks like the same guy.”

  “Anything else?”

  It sure looked like Nayo in the picture. The man had the same angular face and shoulder width. His hair was covered with a traditional Arab head scarf and his coat was oversized, but the features were strikingly similar.

  “Well?” the woman asked.

  “It’s not him,” Liv said with confidence. She tapped the pictures. “Here the man is wearing bulky clothing, probably to hide his size.”

  “So?”

  “Nayo was wearing a fitted suit when I met him. It looked to be tailor-made.” She pointed to the man’s head in the picture. . “And he doesn’t wear the traditional Arab headwear,” she said.

  Just then the man wheeled in a small television set and positioned it in front of her.

  “What’s this?” she asked.

  “Security tapes,” the man answered as he picked up the remote. “We want you to take a look at something.

  He pressed play, and the front of Black Towers came into view. Liv watched as she saw herself stumble through the revolving door, and how Carrie verbally cut her down in the lobby. Liv cringed when Carrie turned her back and headed for the elevators, remembering how rejected she had felt.

  “Stop it right there,” the woman said. The man stopped the tape and she pointed to the side of the screen. “See this?”

  Nayo was standing off to one side with his friend, Taz, and they were both watching her. Liv‘s heart softened when she saw how angry he was getting.

  “So?” Liv asked.

  “Look what he’s carrying,” she said.

  Liv squinted and sat forward. Sure enough, it was a duffle bag
similar to the ones in the photos.

  “I don’t understand. He didn’t have a bag when we met in the foyer.”

  Liv watched as he handed the bag to Taz and then moved toward her. As she bumped into him, Taz moved off-screen. When he returned to warn Nayo of the bomb threat, he no longer carried the bag.

  “Taz?” she asked him.

  “They were working together,” the man explained as he shut off the television.

  Liv shook her head. “That’s impossible. Taz isn’t in these photos. Only one man was seen at the other sites.”

  “We have confirmed with the suspect’s father that the man you refer to as ‘Taz’ has been working for the Darzi family for quite some time.

  “Yes, of course. He’s Nayo’s closest friend.”

  The officers exchanged a look. “It is also well known that both he and Nayo’s brother Jamal, are sympathetic to a fringe radical group who have claimed responsibility for multiple failed attempts at terrorist threats in North America.

  “Taz is sympathetic with Jamal?” Liv looked from one officer to another. “I don’t understand. Nayo said that when his father forbid him to go to the States, Taz was the one who helped convince him. Taz has been his greatest supporter in bringing western culture to his country.”

  The cops exchanged another look. “Either your boyfriend is lying to you,” the woman said. “Or he is being lied to by someone else.”

  “Either way,” the man said. “We’d like to bring him in for questioning.”

  Liv nibbled her lower lip in thought.

  “Ms. Bremer?” the woman asked.

  Liv looked up and nodded. “Okay.”

  The man breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. Now tell us where he’s hiding.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What?” the woman asked.

  “I don’t know.” Liv looked at each of them in turn. “I mean, I was hiding with him yes, but he knew that I was coming here. He’s probably long gone by now.”

  “Great.” The woman threw up her hands. “Another dead end.”

  “Can I go now?” Liv asked the man.

  “Yes, you can go.” He sighed and rubbed his temple. “Come on, let me bring you out front where you can fill out the paperwork.”

  Liv went through the motions, and soon found herself on the outside of the station. She walked slowly to the metro station, and thought about everything that had transpired in the last forty-eight hours.

  Taz must have been lying to Nayo. There was no other explanation. Taz was loyal to his brother and had used Nayo as an excuse to come to America to carry out his terrorist plot.

  Or not. Taz might have left a duffle bag at Black Towers, but the man in the photos and in the video looked nothing like him.

  Liv entered her apartment and locked the door behind her. As she made her way to the kitchen, she rolled the events around in her head and tried to make sense of them. Time and again, she kept falling back on one question—why?

  She looked in her refrigerator and found only a bottle of wine and a stick of butter. Grabbing the wine, she poured herself a glass and sat at the kitchen island to think things over.

  Could it be possible that Taz had been lying to Nayo about everything? How could Nayo not realize it if he was, he was a smart man, you would think he would be able to read his closest friend well enough to know when he’s lying or up to something. So does that mean Nayo was in on it the whole time? Liv shook her head, she just couldn’t bring herself to believe Nayo knew anything about it. She trusted him.

  Then maybe everything was just one big misunderstanding and Taz had nothing to do with it either. Liv had seen firsthand how the police could spin things to look how they want, they painted her to be an accomplice after all. This was ridiculous. The more she thought about this situation, the more questions arose. The best thing to do, in her opinion, was to go straight to the source. She needed to talk to Nayo.

  Finishing her wine, she dumped the dirty glass in the sink and headed out the door. As she navigated the busy streets of Los Angeles, she felt more and more confident about her decision. From the first moment they met, Nayo had been up front with her, and she appreciated his honesty. He needed to know that there was someone running around the city pretending to be him. And if either of them was ever going to catch this imposter, then they needed to work together.

  As she stopped off to pick up some food and headed toward the condo, she noticed that security wasn’t at the gate. Red flags went off in her mind as she carefully approached the small stand where he had sat earlier. Peering inside, she found the small hut empty. Frowning, she made her way through the open gate and up to the correct floor.

  As soon as the elevator doors opened, she heard the shouting. One of the voices was Nayo. The other was someone she didn’t recognize. It was female, and by the sounds of it, this woman was quite angry. Liv carefully stepped down the hall, trying to make out the words of the argument.

  “You never should have come here,” Nayo said.

  “Me? I’m not the one running around town in some terrorist plot—”

  “That wasn’t me and you know it.”

  The condo door was open, so Liv slipped inside and made her way to the kitchen, which seemed to be the source of the voices.

  “You never should have come to America,” a third female voice said. This one was new and distinct from the other.

  “Excuse me–and who are you again?” Nayo asked.

  “Yes,” Liv said as she entered the kitchen. “Please tell us. Who are you?” She sized up the two dark-haired women before her. “Who are you, and how did you get in here?”

  * * *

  Shit. Unease slipped through Nayo as he watched Liv cross her arms and glare at the women.

  “I told you not to come back,” he said, closing the distance between them. “It’s too dangerous.”

  “Oh, so you care about her, and not me, Amir?” The woman closest to him slapped him in the arm. “I’m going to be your wife.”

  “Your wife?” Liv asked. She turned to Nayo. “This is your fiancée?”

  “Yes.” He took a step back and waved his hand in the air. “This is Deema Kader, my fiancée.” She was stunning with large, almond shaped brown eyes that she accentuated expertly with minimal makeup. Her brown hair was covered by a beautifully draped scarf that framed her face.

  “As much as it displeases me.” The woman rolled her eyes. “Men.”

  “And I’m Violet, but everyone calls me Vi.”

  “And how exactly do you fit into all of this?” Liv asked.

  Violet took a step to the side and put her arm around Deema’s waist. The movement lifted her tank top just enough for Liv to see the tattoo angled across her hip. “I’m her girlfriend.”

  “Your girlfriend?”

  Deema lifted her chin, as if preparing for a verbal assault. “Yes, do you have a problem with that?”

  It seemed as if Nayo had some explaining to do. He wedged himself in between his fiancée and Liv. “Let me explain.”

  “She has a girlfriend,” Liv said as she turned to him. “If she has a girlfriend, then why is she marrying you?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Why don’t we all have a seat in the living room,” Nayo said. “I’ll explain everything.

  Chapter 9

  Nayo couldn’t help the uneasy feeling he felt as he positioned himself next to Liv on the couch. He could practically feel her hurt and confusion and wished there was something he could do to ease her shock. Deema and Vi took the love seat opposite them and snuggled together like long-time lovers.

  “Things are different in our country,” Deema said as she took Vi’s hand. “Women do not have a right to choose their husbands.”

  “Or chose not to have a husband at all, but a wife,” Vi said as she kissed Deema’s hand.

  “Deema and I were promised to each other when we were children,” Nayo said as he slid his arm around Liv’s shoulders.

&
nbsp; “Why?”

  “For political reasons. Our families are two of the oldest and most powerful in our country.” She sighed and averted her gaze. “I was barely a year old.”

  “A year old?” Liv asked.

  “And I was not much older.” He tightened his grip around Liv’s shoulders. “Our fathers agreed that it would be best if we both attended university outside of the country and used the opportunity to learn different cultures.”

  “They hoped that we could use what we learned when we finally took our places and ruled as one.”

  Nayo rubbed Liv’s shoulder as he spoke. “She’s to finish at UCLA next month. Then she’ll return and we’ll be married.”

  “But you don’t love each other.”

  “Love has nothing got do with it,” Vi explained. “It’s different over there. Women are used as property.”

  “You could refuse.”

  Deema shook her head. “Women are stoned and disfigured for denying their intended.”

  Liv widened her eyes in shock. “But Nayo would never do anything.”

  “No, I wouldn’t,” Nayo said. “But that doesn’t mean that someone else in my family wouldn’t.”

  “Or one of your family’s supporters.” Deema shook her head. “To deny him would bring shame upon him and his family. How could Nayo hope to hold onto his family’s power when he was shunned by a mere woman? No, Nayo’s hands were tied as much as mine.”

  “Our fathers were the one who orchestrated the union,” Nayo added. “Saying no would not only be disrespectful, but cast their own power into question as well.”

  “Everything would begin to unravel,” Deema agreed.

  “So what do you do?” Liv asked.

  “We try to enjoy the time we have together,” Vi said as she put her arm around Deema. “We survive by not thinking too much about the future.”

  “You said that Deema not marrying you will bring you shame. . .” Liv said.

  “Yes.”

  She turned in his arms to face him. “But what about what is happening now? Doesn’t these bomb threats bring shame to your family as well?”