She yawned. “How do you always think of everything?”
“I hire good people to do the thinking.” I fidgeted, wondering where we stood. Was our engagement and upcoming marriage still business? I wanted it to be more. I cared for her. Heavens, I loved her. But she looked exhausted. That would have to be a discussion for another day. “I’ll leave you.”
“Thanks for everything,” she said.
“Of course. I’m glad you’re alive.” She’d never know just how much.
35
Saemira
Age 17 – Detroit, Michigan
FORGIVENESS: stopping resentment or anger against an enemy, which frees us from their grip.
Shouting downstairs woke the baby, and Altin started to cry. Saemira rolled over in bed to pat his back as her stepmother kept screaming.
“I’m not moving to freaking Alberta!” Rosie shouted, except she used the real f-word Baba had forbidden his daughter to use. Or even think. Didn’t matter that she heard it hundreds of times a day from his new wife, the evil temptress who’d made not only his life miserable, but hers as well.
She patted three-month old Altin. “Your mama’s a piece of work. Doesn’t know the difference between Alberta and Albania.” The only good thing about Rosie was Altin, or Floyd, as Rosie had named her baby brother. Saemira liked Altin better and called him that to piss Rosie off.
America hadn’t turned out to be the land of opportunity Baba had made it out to be when he’d told her and Engjell stories about his homeland. His savings had been tied up in the school in Albania. When they’d left, they’d come with only the belongings in their suitcases and a few thousand dollars Baba had remaining to his name. They’d scraped by in the crummy ghetto in Detroit until Baba had gotten Rosie pregnant.
Now, Saemira had a stepmom who hated her, and they lived in her mouse- and cockroach-ridden house on the other side of town. Her new school had been worse than the old one. After some psycho girl had tried to kick her trash the third week of school, Baba had pulled her out and enrolled her in an online school.
She heard his calm voice, followed by Rosie’s high-pitched screaming. Saemira put her hands over Altin’s tiny ears when Rosie started calling Baba horrible names.
“Don’t listen, sweet boy. Baba’s a good man, even if he was seduced by your evil mama.”
He cooed and batted her face.
“Love you too, buddy.”
When Rosie stopped screaming and a door slammed, Saemira crept downstairs to make a bottle.
Baba sat on the couch in the dark, staring at the wall. “Hey, baby girl. Is Altin awake?” He liked her name for the baby better than Rosie’s.
“Yep. Rosie woke him up.”
“Sorry. She was drunk.”
“What’s new?” She walked upstairs with the bottle.
He followed. “Mind if I sit with you while you feed him?”
She clutched Mama’s amulet, praying to the gods that Baba wouldn’t find her beautiful, as he must’ve found Rosie. After she’d dumped her clothes, he’d taken her to a thrift store to replace them when he’d noticed her wearing the same outfit day in and day out. She’d bought baggy clothes to hide her figure, never wanting to tempt Baba or any other man.
Baba was quiet as Altin drank. They sat on the bed, shoulders touching. Maybe she was wicked for not moving, but she longed for connection. Baba usually spent nights with Rosie, trying to make her happy, something she’d come to realize was utterly impossible.
Altin fell asleep, but Baba didn’t leave. “Thanks for being a good sister to Altin.” He stroked her long hair as she pulled the blanket over her baby brother.
“I love him.”
“Me, too.”
“But I hate Rosie’s guts.” She squirmed, expecting him to chide her. But he just sighed.
“I don’t like her much either.” He patted Altin’s back. “But we must make the best of this for Altin’s sake.” He squeezed her hand. “Thanks for being a good daughter.”
Saemira festered with the horrible secret she’d kept hidden for so long. “I’m not good. I’m evil.”
“Impossible, princess.”
“I am. Duke said so. Engjell’s uncle.”
He stiffened. “Is he...who hurt you?”
Shame burned tears out of her. She nodded, and he pulled her into his arms.
“Don’t touch me.” She scrambled off the bed. “He said I tempt men to do evil things.” She swiped at her eyes. “Even you. I’m a whore. The devil made me.”
Baba’s eyes glistened as he held out a hand. “Those are lies, Saemira.”
She looked at his hand, wishing she could believe him.
“The God of Heaven made you. He made you good—beautiful, too. Duke lied when he blamed you for his evil. All of us are responsible for our own choices, bijé.”
She stared at his outstretched hand, but the horror of that time with Duke locked her arms in place at her sides.
“I did an evil thing with Duke.” She still woke up gasping from the shame, the helplessness, the terror of that night.
“No. He forced himself upon you. He raped you and took away your choice.”
“I didn’t fight him.” A good girl would’ve. “Engjell said whores spread their legs willingly, and I spread mine for Duke.” She looked away, unable to meet her baba’s intense gaze.
He didn’t withdraw his hand. He still reached out, palm up. “Answer me this, bijé. Did you want to obey, or were you scared?”
She brushed at the stinging skin below her eyes. “Scared.” Her body convulsed.
“He terrorized you, Saemira. You’re not to blame. You were a victim. He can never make you evil.”
“But Rosie made you be evil with her.”
He closed his eyes but didn’t drop his hand. “I chose to get drunk. Rosie’s not responsible for that. The world would have you believe that women are to blame for men’s bad choices, but that’s a lie. Men are accountable for their own behavior. Regardless of what a woman wears or how she presents herself, a man always has a choice. I chose grief instead of love. It was a terrible mistake. I hope you’ll forgive me someday.”
She lifted her hand, taking courage from the hope that brightened his eyes. It’d been ages since she’d seen light in his face. Her fingers touched his, and he wrapped his big hand around hers and pulled her into his arms.
She curled into him, wondering why she’d avoided him for so long. He was her anchor. Her strength. She cried as she hadn’t done for over two long years, a flood of emotions breaking free. Anger, that she hadn’t listened to Engjell and gone home that night with him. Fear, that Duke would find her again. Shame, for her lost innocence. Fury, at the horrid images still in her head. Sadness, for the relationships she’d damaged.
Baba didn’t shush her. He just held her and healed her. In his arms, her heart became full again, not empty.
“I’m sorry for being a bad daughter,” she said between sniffles.
“You’ve never been bad. You’re a brilliant light and hold my whole heart.”
They sat back on the bed, hands clasped.
“Do I hold your heart more than Rosie?”
He grimaced. “I don’t love Rosie. She makes it hard to do so. But I don’t hate her either. She’s my wife. And your stepmother.”
She made a face. “She doesn’t like me.”
“She doesn’t like me either,” he said, and they both laughed. He cupped her chin. “We need God’s help to forgive her.”
“I don’t want to forgive her. She’s mean.”
He squeezed her hand. “God requires more than what makes us comfortable.”
That’s why his God was more powerful than Mama’s gods. But Mama’s stone gods were easier to please, only requiring drips of water, or at most, a dab of blood for a potent blessing.
“Are you sure I’m not a whore?” she asked. “Duke did bad things to me.”
He traced a heart on the back of her hand. “What he did was immensely ev
il. But you are pure and innocent in God’s eyes. And mine. Boys and men will notice you. You are a pretty girl, turning into a beautiful woman. That’s how God wants it to be. We glorify Him when we shine, not when we hide ourselves.” He pulled at her baggy sweatshirt. “That’s what you’ve been doing, isn’t it?”
She chewed her lips. “Sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry about, bijé. Nothing. Remember: Duke has no power to write your story. You and God are the only authors.”
She rested her head on his lap, letting him stroke her hair.
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” he asked. “Right after it happened so the police could’ve locked him away.”
She shuddered. “He said he’d kill you and Engjell if I told.”
Baba’s hand stopped in her hair and he trembled. “No wonder you’ve been so scared.”
A lump formed in her throat. She still feared there’d be a price to pay for breaking her silence. “I worry for Engjell.”
“I always worry for him. His uncle took off and left him last year.”
“He did?”
“Engjell’s better off without him. He’s a bright boy. And I have good news. That’s what upset Rosie earlier.”
Whatever upset Rosie was probably a good thing.
“I’ve been working to sponsor Engjell to come here for college, especially now that he’s on his own. His application was approved. He’ll be here for winter semester at University of Illinois at Chicago.”
Saemira sat up and grinned “That’s wonderful.”
“He’ll do good things.” He wrapped an arm around her. “Sorry for what that man did to you, for how he hurt you physically, but also for how he twisted your mind with lies to make you fear. He’s an evil man, but you must forgive him.”
She shook her head.
“Forgiveness is for you, not him. What he did was despicable. Inexcusable. Forgiving doesn’t mean his actions are acceptable. But when we hate or fear those who’ve wronged us, we stay chained to them. Forgiveness is the only thing powerful enough to set us free.”
That didn’t make sense.
“When we give judgment to God, He lets us move on and be happy again. You deserve all the happiness life has to offer. When we don’t forgive, we take the role of judge upon ourselves, a heavy burden. Too heavy for any mortal.” Baba lifted Mama’s amulet. “Forgiveness freed your mama, you know?”
“How?”
“A group of soldiers raped her in Kosovo.”
She’d known that. Mama had confided to her that experience after her own assault.
“She’d healed physically by the time I met her in the refugee camp, but she hadn’t healed in here.” He pointed to his head. “Or here.” He touched his heart. “She feared everyone, even me.”
She understood that fear. After Duke’s assault, she’d been fearful of everyone as well, even Baba and Engjell.
“Over the next year, I taught her about Jesus Christ and forgiveness. She called Him Sky God because when she put His teachings to work and forgave her enemies, fear disappeared and she felt she could fly.” He smiled. “She was free to love me as I already loved her.”
“What if I’m not as strong or good as you and Mama?”
He kissed her hair. “You’re stronger and better than both of us. It won’t be easy, but I promise forgiveness will free you of that man and his lies.” He let the amulet drop. “After I lost your mama, I hated God for taking her and another child from me. But look at what hate did. I withheld the love you needed. I left Albania to escape memories of her and ended up in the bed of a woman I despised. So much pain could’ve been avoided if I’d given my sorrow to God, instead of holding onto it tight.”
“Have you forgiven God now?”
“Yes. It’s taken a while. But I’m happier, even if Rosie still screams at me. God has freed me from the bitterness in my soul.” He rested his head against hers. “Will you forgive me for ruining everything?”
Saemira snuggled closer. “Nothing is ruined as long as I have you. And yes, I forgive you.”
Gemma
The ceiling fan spun above me in Lincoln’s guest room. My brain spun faster, sifting through the last twenty-four hours and connecting dangerous dots.
Duke had been tracking me. Maybe since the day I’d set foot in this valley.
Had Angel known?
When Lincoln had asked the police how the kidnappers had known to set their trap in Park City, the answer had hit me like a brick to the head.
My phone.
Ugh. It was so simple. Why hadn’t I considered the possibility that he’d put a tracking app on my phone? Engjell had given me the phone when we’d first arrived in Salt Lake, along with forged documents. When I’d asked where he’d gotten everything, he’d said they’d come from his friends at the university.
But it had been Duke.
In the back of Lincoln’s SUV on the drive home from the hospital, I’d played with the window controls, and when Lincoln had looked away, I’d tossed the cursed phone out onto the freeway.
Duke wouldn’t find me now. Lincoln’s home would be a safe haven.
But for how long?
The kidnapping had proven I was a threat to anyone close to me. Lincoln had lost millions. He could’ve lost his life if Angel hadn’t freed us. As much as I loved him, there was no hope for us. He’d said he loved me when we’d been reunited, but I wouldn’t hold him to what he’d said under duress.
I must earn back his lost money, even if it meant calling every foundation and venture capitalist out there. But returning to work meant Duke might track me again. If that happened, what would stop him from setting another trap for Lincoln—or heaven forbid, Altin?
The fan kept turning like my busy brain. Running away with Altin, as I’d always planned, was out of the question now. I couldn’t subject my brother to life on the streets, and that’s where I’d be. Going through with this wedding would secure a good life for my brother before I split. My final act of love before I disappeared from his life. Maybe I could leave Lincoln a note, telling him who I really was and why he must protect Altin. He was a good man. Surely he wouldn’t abandon my brother.
The door opened, and I pulled the covers up to my nose.
“Sorry. It’s just me,” Lincoln whispered. “It’s been an hour. I’m here to check in. How are you?”
“Still breathing.”
“How’s your head?”
“Still pounding.”
He fidgeted, and I noticed he held a blanket. “Mind if I borrow a pillow and sleep on the floor? Then I won’t have to walk as far to check on you in another hour.”
“You don’t have to check on me.” Though I loved that he cared enough to do so.
“The nurse said I should.”
I threw him an extra pillow. “Don’t snore.”
He spread out the blanket and winced as he knelt. Poor guy seemed to be in a lot of pain.
“I feel bad making you sleep on the floor in your own house.”
“This carpet’s the best money can buy.”
Shocker.
I took comfort in having him a few feet away and must’ve fallen into a deep sleep. When I awoke, I touched my bandaged head. It didn’t throb as much as it had.
“Hey, sleepyhead.”
I yelped as Lincoln sat up on the floor beneath me. Oh, right. He’d come in to check on me and then stayed.
“What time is it?”
“Almost midnight. You hungry?”
“Crap! I slept the whole day? I need to get Altin.”
“Shh.” He put a finger to my mouth. “He’s here. I had Tina bring him back at dinner time.”
My brain seemed too groggy to think.
“Feel any better?”
“Yes. But I feel lazy for sleeping the whole day. I’ve never done that before.”
“You’ve never been kidnapped and brutalized either.”
I wished that was true.
Two days had passed a
t Lincoln’s place. We hadn’t done much except sleep and rest. My head still ached, but less than before. Lincoln was sore and walked like an old man. Poor guy.
“Wink!” Altin cried, breaking away from Tina to run to him.
Lincoln held out his hands to catch my brother before he tackled his healing ribs. “Have you had fun with Miss Tina?”
“Teenie fun,” Altin said.
Tina fidgeted. She was an excellent teacher and caregiver but was super shy around Lincoln. I don’t think he realized how intimidating he came across to most people.
“Are you sure you’re okay with me leaving, Mr. McConnell?”
“Totally. I appreciate the time you spent with him the last couple of days. You need a break.”
“Thank you.” She took her leave.
Lincoln glanced over at me. “Want to get out of the house?”
“I do have a buttload of work to do.”
“Not work.” He shook his head “I’m sure your boss doesn’t want you going in right now. He wants you to recover. Have some fun. You deserve that.”
I didn’t deserve anything for upending his life. “I’ll stay and play with Altin.”
“That’s the problem. There are no toys here. What do you say to a trip to a toy store?”
“No. I don’t want you to—”
“Gemma.” Lincoln put his hand to my mouth, making my lips tingle. “Altin and I want to visit the toy store.”
His finger against my lips took my breath away. Talk about heaven. I shouldn’t enjoy his touch so much.
My brother’s eyes lit up. “Toys?”
Lincoln held out a hand. “Care to join us?”
“I guess.”
The afternoon sped by in a blur of fun. Lincoln turned into a total goofball inside the toy store, playing with every toy on display and making Altin laugh hysterically.
Lincoln beeped and pushed Altin’s car into my leg. “Oh, no!” he said. “Mommy monster made us wreck.”
Of Stone and Sky Page 18