Of Stone and Sky

by Charissa Stastny

  He rubbed my back. “I saved you.”

  “No.” I scrambled back from him. “You’ve doomed us all.”

  His puffy lips twisted. “Duke said your fiancé beat his first wife, made her lose a baby. I won’t let you live with a man like that.”

  “Oh, Angel.” I rocked back and forth. “Duke lies. Remember the night you found me in the cargo container?” I trembled at the memory.

  He winced. “I’ll never forget. That’s why I won’t let you be hurt again.”

  I choked on tears. “Duke hurt me that night. He said he’d kill you and Baba if I ever revealed the truth.”

  My friend’s eyes widened, and he shook his head. “No. You’re wrong.”

  I buried my head in my hands as the sobs I’d restrained for years finally broke free.

  32

  Angel

  Age 17 - Fushë Krujë, Albania

  No crying! Engjell swallowed against a massive lump in his throat. Sour. Bitter. But Saemira’s swollen eyes made him act brave.

  The past month had been rough on her. And him. Not that the five months before had been easy. When he’d found her in the second-to-last cargo container, skirt up around her waist, soiled panties lying a few feet away, he’d dressed her and rushed her home. Mr. Nikolla had taken her to the hospital and had called the policia, but the perpetrator hadn’t been found.

  He hadn’t blamed Mr. Nikolla for being furious with him. He’d hated himself for what had happened to Saemira. But too soon, Mr. Nikolla had forgiven him, saying none of what had happened had been his fault.

  He was wrong.

  When Saemira hadn’t come out when he’d called for her, he’d thought she was being stubborn. Instead of looking for her, he’d sulked in the warehouse, waiting her out. Only after the sun had set had he worried that something might be wrong. Too late, he’d searched every cargo container with the blacklight until he’d found her.

  For months afterward, she’d wanted nothing to do with him. A just punishment. But then she’d sent a letter through her baba, apologizing for being a bad friend and asking for time to get her head right. His poor, sweet friend had been worried about him, when he’d deserved hell’s flames.

  That’s why he loved her.

  Six weeks ago, she’d agreed to see him. Her mama had sat between them while she’d told a story of her people.

  It’d been enough.

  Though he’d missed studying with Gem and going on adventures with her, he’d understood her suffering. Mr. Nikolla had confided that she acted skittish even with him. Time would ease her fears. Until then, he’d urged him to be patient.

  He would’ve been patient for as long as needed, but Saemira’s mama had gone into early labor and died in childbirth, along with another premature son. Their deaths had thrown Mr. Nikolla and Saemira into deep mourning.

  “Thanks for coming.” Saemira’s soft voice snapped him back to the present. She faced him, unsmiling, but still beautiful. Her Mama’s amulet hung on the silver chain around her slender neck.

  He pulled her into a hug but let go when she stiffened. Since the assault, she’d let nobody touch her.

  “I don’t want to go,” she said.

  “I don’t want you to either.”

  If Saemira had been devastated by her mama’s death, her baba had been destroyed. He’d turned over management of the school to his second, Mr. Sokoli. He hadn’t told stories or played his sharkia. He’d hardly even talked to his daughter, which revealed the depth of his pain, for Saemira was his life. But losing his wife seemed to have killed part of him. He’d decided to return to America with his daughter.

  “You will write me, won’t you?” Gem asked.

  “For sure.” Engjell gave her a shaky smile.

  “I’ll send letters in care of Mr. Sokoli at the school.”

  He wished he could hold her, but he was helpless to heal her wounds.

  She pulled something from the bag her mama had sewn for her. “I want you to keep this.” She handed him her black light. “Find me someday when you come to America. Give it back to me.”

  Fat chance of that happening. He had not a lek to his name. And Duke wouldn’t share.

  “I’ll treat it as my most priceless gem.” The lump in his throat grew. Saemira was his treasure. But she was leaving. Would he ever see her again?

  She stepped forward to give him a stiff embrace, and he knew the gesture had cost all her courage. He buried his head into her neck and inhaled her sweet scent. If Mr. Nikolla had been himself, he would’ve shooed him away and said they’d held each other long enough. But he just watched from the car, glassy-eyed and numb, like the zombie dead.

  “Goodbye, Engjell.” Saemira walked around the car to climb into the passenger seat beside her baba.

  The lump in his throat threatened to burst and send a wave of tears out his nose and eyes as he watched them pull away.

  He thought of Saemira’s book of English words she’d learned over the years. Lost would be his word today. Never again would he see Saemira’s smiling face or hear her bubbling laughter. Never would Mr. Nikolla expand his mind with learning, making him see possibilities he’d never imagined. Never again would Saemira’s mama tell him stories and fill him with the warmth of her acceptance.

  Never. That’s what lost felt like. A whole string of nevers folded out on the horizon.

  A hand slapped his shoulder, making him flinch.

  “They’re gone, no?” Uncle spat on the ground. “Good riddance. That gadjo and his half-breed temptress were pulling you down.”

  Engjell blinked fast and swallowed. Uncle had no tolerance for weakness.

  “Trying to make you into something you’re not. Engjell,” he said in a high voice, mocking Saemira. “Bah! You’re no angel. You’re Bengalo. Look at you.” He shoved him to his knees. “Ugly freak. Bastard son of a diseased whore. They educated you, but you were a joke to them.” He nudged him with his boot. “I won’t give you false hopes and then leave. I’ll teach you how to take what you deserve from this cruel world and run from it.”

  Saemira’s tears and revelation gutted me. This wasn’t how this should’ve gone down. She was supposed to be grateful for my intervention. I’d saved her from the monster in fancy clothes.

  She should love me!

  Duke couldn’t be the rapist. It’d been dark. She’d been scared and young. No way could she have known who hurt her that night. She would’ve told me. Told her baba. Uncle couldn’t have been the one who’d changed my fun-loving friend into the cowering mute she’d been before leaving Albania.

  “Bengalo.” Uncle spoke into my earpiece. “Bring the temptress to make the gadjo cooperate.”

  Blood turned to ice in my veins as I realized Uncle could indeed have hurt her all those years ago. He still hurt people. Especially women. And girls.

  “Gem.” I pulled her to her feet. “Come with me. We’ll run away, far from Duke and the gadjo who’s confused you.” I could get her to safety.

  “No.” She yanked out of my grip. “I need to help Lincoln. Please, if you love me at all, help me free him.”

  I couldn’t do that. Dammit. Who was I trying to fool? Duke had a plan. I had no power to foil it, nor did I dare. Besides, Uncle hadn’t lied about her gadjo. He’d shown me an old paper that showed what Saemira’s fiancé had done to his last wife.

  “We must go.” I gripped her wrist and yanked her out the door. “Stay quiet and do as I say.” Uncle had summoned us. If she wouldn’t run away with me, we must go along with Duke’s plan.

  Gemma would be safe. Duke wouldn’t touch her. Maybe he’d hurt her in the past, but she was under my protection now.

  I’d given my soul to purchase her safety.

  33

  Saemira

  Age 16 – Detroit, Michigan

  UNFAITHFUL: breaking vows; untrustworthy.

  Loud music from the apartment next door made the couch vibrate. Saemira turned on the TV to block out the neighbors’ noise through
the thin walls. She missed the calming sounds of her home in Albania. The wind rattling the shutters. The hiss of the heater. The sweet tune of Baba’s sharkia at night. She clutched Mama’s amulet, missing her most. This apartment in Detroit that Baba had rented had no soul.

  “Baby girl.”

  She flinched. Baba rarely spoke, not since Mama had died. She wondered if he still blamed her for her death.

  He sat beside her but didn’t speak. She didn’t mind. Just sitting near him soothed her rattled heart. She longed to have him hold her, caress her hair as he had when she’d been younger, tell her everything would be okay.

  Baba shuddered, and she realized he was crying.

  “What is it, Baba?”

  He sniffed. “I’m getting married tomorrow.”

  Her whole body chilled. They’d been here over a year and he’d never even gone out with a woman. How could he be marrying one? And why would he want to? Nobody could replace Mama. No one should.

  “Her name’s Rosie. I know this is a surprise.” His face puckered. “I still can’t believe it, either.”

  Her stomach began to churn. “Do you love her?”

  He pushed his glasses up his nose. “No. I met her at a bar a few months ago. I got drunk, ended up at her place for a few hours.” He pursed his lips. “She’s pregnant, Saemira. I have to do the right thing.”

  She pushed him away, unable to imagine anything worse than Baba lying with a woman he didn’t love and putting a baby in her. “How could you?” She fled to her bedroom and locked the door.

  He knocked. “Saemira, I’m sorry. But this could be good for you. Rosie has a house. We’ll get out of this crummy apartment. You won’t be alone after school. You’ll have another woman in the house with you. A brother or sister, too, in a few months.

  “Go away!” She didn’t want to hear how good this could be. He’d done a wicked act with this Rosie. Been unfaithful to Mama. To her!

  Gathering clothes from her closet, ones that hugged her body, she carried them to her third-story window and threw them out into the night. Boys always whistled and called her hot, saying they wanted to do nasty things with her. She must hide her body. Bury the evil the gods had cursed her with.

  She wouldn’t be like the whore Rosie who’d tempted her baba to be evil with her.

  Gemma

  Tears leaked from my eyes as Engjell pulled me through a dark tunnel. How could he have forsaken the values Baba had taught him? How could he have chosen his horrid uncle over me?

  “Where are we?” I asked.

  “Do not talk, Gem. Please.”

  I leaned back to keep him from pulling me any farther and yanked my hand out of his. “I hate you.”

  “I hate myself.” He clenched my wrist and forced me forward, making me stumble.

  “Why are you doing this?” A light up ahead made my heart pound. I squeaked as we drew closer and I spotted Lincoln on the ground, hair drenched as he choked and gasped for air. A masked Duke stood next to a tub of water.

  I shoved out of Engjell’s grip to run to Lincoln. “Are you all right?” I gathered him in my arms, and Lincoln wrapped me up in a full body hug.

  I sighed. Duke still held us hostage, but at least we were together.

  “I love you,” he whispered.

  “Hush.” He must be delusional from his abuse.

  Duke laughed. “What a sweet reunion.” He pulled Lincoln up by his hair, making him grit his teeth.

  “Leave him alone!” I tried to claw Duke’s face, but Angel restrained me.

  “Be calm, Gem,” Angel whispered near my ear. “Trust me.”

  “Let me go!” He’d betrayed me. I tried to escape his grip.

  “She’s here, as you asked.” Duke shoved Lincoln in front of a computer. “Now make the transfer.”

  Lincoln typed something as Duke watched over his shoulder.

  Duke thumped his head. “All of it, or she dies.” He marched over and grabbed me by my hair. I screamed as he dragged me across the cement floor and brought a knife to my throat.

  “Do it!”

  “Let her go,” Lincoln said. “So help me God, you won’t get another cent unless she goes free. You can keep me, but she goes free.”

  Duke’s blade pricked my neck. “You are in no position to make demands.”

  “Neither are you.” Fury transformed Lincoln’s wet face. “When I see proof that she’s safely away, I’ll transfer the rest. Not a second before. And I’m taking off a mil for nicking her neck, you bastard.”

  “That’s not how it works!” Duke’s hand grazed my mouth, and I chomped down on his finger. He screamed and threw me to the ground.

  My head hit hard, and pain engulfed me. I tried to focus, but my vision blurred and I felt as if I might puke.

  “You promised nobody would get hurt,” Engjell shouted, dropping down beside me. His arms wrapped around me, but they didn’t bring comfort.

  “Get out of the way, boy.” Duke clenched my upper arms, lifting me up into a spinning world.

  Angel shrieked. “No! You promised not to hurt her!”

  I didn’t see what happened next. Duke let go, and I slumped to the ground and vomited onto the cement. Duke screamed somewhere above me.

  “Gemma.” Lincoln touched my head. “Are you all right, love?”

  “Get her out of here,” Engjell said, urgency in his voice. “We don’t have much time before he comes to. Go left out the door and run. Don’t stop.” He handed something to Lincoln. “Call the police as soon as you have bars. Now get the hell out of here. I’ll try to lure Duke’s men the other way.”

  Lincoln helped me to my feet. My stomach heaved like the sea in a hurricane, so I held onto him like a life preserver.

  I wanted to thank my friend for whatever he had done. He must’ve knocked out Duke somehow, but Engjell took off, and Lincoln practically dragged me the other direction through the dizzying darkness.

  34

  Lincoln

  The bandage around Gemma’s head made me furious as my driver pulled away from the hospital.

  “You all right?” I asked.

  We’d escaped what had turned out to be a system of storm drains on the outskirts of town. Gemma had been woozy from her head injury. I’d barely dragged her out of there, not feeling so well myself. My security team had met us near the end of the tunnel and had taken us to the hospital. Gemma had a concussion. No surprise there. I had two broken ribs and bruises everywhere. The police had questioned us, leaving me with more questions.

  “I’m fine,” she said.

  “Can you see all right?” Her vision had been blurry and she’d puked several more times as I’d half-carried her away from our captors.

  “Better,” she said. “What about you? You seem shook up.”

  Understatement of the year. “Those gypsies knew too much.” She frowned. “Sorry,” I said. “I mean kidnappers. They must’ve been stalking me to know we were at Wilder’s cabin.”

  The color drained from her face, and I chided myself. I should be comforting her, not stirring up more fear.

  “I’m sure we’re safe now. It’s just unsettling.”

  She stared out the window.

  I leaned back in my seat, trying to forget what’d happened. To me. To her. We were lucky to be alive. We wouldn’t be if the younger thug hadn’t gained a conscience at the last second and attacked his leader with a metal rod.

  Gemma’s window moved up and down, and I relaxed. If she was messing with the controls, she must not be too freaked out.

  The city sped past. For some reason, the gypsies—kidnappers—had targeted me. Gemma had been sucked in by association. Now that they understood how vulnerable she made me, would they try to kidnap her again?

  “Where are we going?” Gemma asked. “This isn’t the way to my place.”

  “My house. I want you and Altin near me. For your safety.”

  She looked down at her hands.

  Not many hours ago, I’d proclaimed my
love for her when we’d been reunited, but she hadn’t returned the sentiment. She’d told me to hush. Had I scared her? Or did she not feel the same?

  A streetlamp revealed her glistening eyes. I undid my seatbelt and scooted over to wrap my arm around her. Right now, I wouldn’t worry about that. She’d been through an ordeal and needed comfort.

  “Hey, it’s okay.” I tucked her head into my shoulder, though my ribs hurt. “Please, stay. I’ll be worried sick if you don’t.”

  She swiped her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “For the money you lost. I’ll get it back somehow, work extra hours to—”

  I put a finger to her mouth. “I don’t care about the money.” I pressed my lips to hers, soft and quick since my upper lip had been cut by an assailant’s ring. “You’re all that matters.”

  We stayed like that, holding each other, until the driver pulled into my rounded driveway.

  I unwrapped my arms from Gemma and stepped out to give her a hand. The two of us hobbled to the front door, where my housekeeper met us.

  “Are you hungry?” I asked. It was almost sunrise, but we hadn’t eaten or slept all night.

  “Starved.”

  Mrs. Tan brought out muffins and milk.

  “Is Altin here?” Gemma asked.

  “No, I asked Miss Tina to keep him until tomorrow. I figured you would need to rest. But don’t worry, they’ve been taken to a secure location.”

  She pushed her nibbled-on muffin aside. “I should get some sleep. My head’s killing me.”

  “The nurse said I should check on you hourly, with your concussion.”

  “Please, don’t. I want to sleep long and hard.”

  Did she think she could? I’d be reliving nightmares.

  I showed her to the guest room. “I hope you don’t mind,” I said. “I had Lionel grab the extra key to your place and bring over clothes and nightwear for you and Altin, when he joins us. They’re in the closet.”