by Holly Rayner
Did those words really just come out of my mouth? she wondered. Where had this bravery come from?
“It’s obvious to me that you still love your brother deeply, and that you only want what is best for him. I'm truly sorry that he has decided to take the path that he has. It is cruel that he doesn't realize the kind of pain that it puts you through.”
Balal's brow furrowed. “That's where you're wrong,” he countered. “I think he does know, and he doesn't care. That's what I can't stomach. But in a way, he has a right to punish me. If I had done things differently, maybe none of this would have happened.”
“You can’t continue to beat yourself up for what happened,” Jenna countered. “What you did might not have been wise, but there was no way you could have known that your brother would have reacted the way he did, nor become what he has become. There is just no way that any of us can tell the future like that, and nor should we try. Hindsight might be twenty-twenty, as we say, but the guilt you feel is only going to consume you if you allow it to plague you the way it obviously does.”
Balal turned his hand over under hers and squeezed it tightly.
“You are not responsible for his actions now,” Jenna continued. “Your brother is going to have to answer for his own crimes one day, not you. You have done what you can to make things right. Unfortunately, you cannot change someone else, or how they act.”
“I wish I could, though,” Balal replied softly. There was a raw, tender edge to his words, and Jenna felt a warm glow start to burn in her chest again.
“I can see that you are a good man, Balal,” she said, and she enjoyed the sound of his name on her lips. It felt right being so close, so intimate with him. “You have spent so much time, so much money and energy trying to save women like me… A normal person would hope that someone else would step up and help. But you are different, because you actually did step up.”
A question popped into Jenna’s mind, and she forced herself to ask it. “How did you even start rescuing women from these auctions?”
Balal took a steadying breath and leaned in more closely to her as well. She could feel his breath on her cheeks.
“A few months ago, I was approached by the leader of the Collectors. They’re a global organization, and they had just started looking for sponsors in Al Mezinda—people of affluence—as they’d got word from the inside that an auction was about to take place in Yordan. Immediately, I agreed to help them. I felt so guilty about my brother and the life that he had chosen, that I felt like this was my chance to do some good. Maybe, if I saved these women, then I could somehow right the scales of my life.”
Jenna shook her head. “It doesn't work like that, Balal. Like I said, you are not responsible for him. But the things you do out of the goodness of your heart for these women, for me, has changed many lives. You saved us. That is more than some people can say for their entire lives.” She felt her toes start to tingle. “What you’ve achieved is amazing,” she whispered.
They were very close now, and Jenna could see the individual hairs on his beard. She could see the exact shades of brown in his eyes, like amber and chocolate and midnight all mixed into one. She could see the depths of his soul.
“It has been a very lonely life, these past few years,” Balal murmured, his voice vulnerable and husky. He looked at her through his eyelashes, almost like a puppy asking for something, and it made her heart slam against her ribs like a bird trying to escape a cage.
“You don't have to be lonely anymore,” Jenna replied, her voice trembling.
She didn't care, and it was apparent that he didn't either.
Immediately, his lips pressed against hers, soft and warm, greedy. His hands knotted in her still-wet hair, and she held his face in her hands. It was a deep kiss, both giving and taking, and Jenna felt as if her heart might erupt in a shower of fireworks.
Balal was gentle, yet firm, only moving closer when she initiated. His other arm slid down her back, and she found herself rising from her chair and sliding into his lap.
She felt desperate for breath, but she couldn’t stop kissing him. He tasted of bourbon and tea, and something spicy like cinnamon. The scent of him made her feel dizzy, filled with lust.
When Balal finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against hers, both of them breathing heavily, their eyes closed. He removed his hands, maybe afraid that if he didn’t, he wouldn’t be able to stop.
Wow, was all she could think.
“I…” he said, softly, gently. “I’m sorry if I came on too strong.”
She laughed, full of happiness. “Too strong? You came on just right.”
His eyes looked foggy, dazed, but he gently cupped her face in his palm once again and pulled her in for another kiss.
He lingered for only a moment, and then smiled up at her.
“Well…” he whispered. “Adina is going to wonder what’s happened to us.”
Regretfully, Jenna agreed. They rose together, and went to the dining room, where Adina had prepared them a sumptuous midnight feast. As they ate, they made their plan: they would get some rest, then they would go to the bunker in the early hours of the morning, find Ahmad, and confront him. They had no time to lose.
They had vowed to get as much sleep as they could, but Jenna felt like she could only have been sleeping for half an hour when she heard a soft knock on the door. She slipped out from the comfort of her bed and crossed over to the door.
Adina was waiting, carrying a bundle of clothes and a small tray laden with buttered toast and a bottle of electrolyte water.
“Car coming soon. Please take these, and dress.”
She gave Jenna the same outfit she had been wearing the night before: the black track jacket, black fitted tank, and black running pants. Breathable, easy to move in, and a decent disguise in the darkness. Jenna thanked her and set about getting ready.
She met Balal in the living room, still munching on a piece of toast, her water bottle in hand.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, tying up a pair of combat boots. He was dressed in entirely black, a black hat on his head, and a slotted belt around his waist. It appeared that he was carrying a number of tools, including a small firearm.
Jenna swallowed hard. Was it going to end like that?
“All right…considering,” she said, her eyes still on his belt.
He followed her gaze to his belt and sighed. “It’s just a precaution. I don’t expect that I’ll have to use it.”
“Have you…”
“…used it before?” he finished for her.
She nodded.
“Only once, when I was out with the Collectors, but the man was not heavily injured. I shot him in the knee after he attacked me.”
Jenna sat down beside him. “Were you all right?”
Balal nodded but pointed to a mark on his right forearm. “I got stabbed here. Other than that, I was fine.”
Jenna frowned. She knew that it had been a dangerous thing, getting involved with Balal and the business of rescuing young women. But to have to resort to violence…
Seeing the look on her face, Balal reassured her.
“I promise that nothing will happen to you while I am there, all right?”
She nodded, then glanced at the clock, which sat beneath the large mural of New York City. It was four-thirty in the morning.
“Do you ever miss New York?” she asked.
He looked at the painting.
“All the time,” he replied, his tone nostalgic. “Come on, our car is waiting.”
They made their way down to the ground floor, where they were met by two of Balal’s guards. Balal instructed them to drop him and Jenna off and go straight back to the penthouse; he didn’t want to draw any suspicion—he knew there would be very few people up at this hour, aside from the fisherman and the underbelly of the city.
They arrived at the park some fifteen minutes later. The large, copper fountain wasn’t far from the entrance. The sound of water
splashing was the only noise.
“Here,” Balal said, as they reached the side of the fountain. “Supposedly, the entrance to the bunker is beneath the fountain. The problem is…” Balal continued, “I don’t know how to access it.”
Jenna looked around, and stepped closer to it.
“You said it’s underneath the fountain?”
“That’s what my father said,” Balal replied. “What’s odd is that I don’t see anyone here to guard it. It makes me wonder if my brother knew I was coming…”
Jenna felt a flash of fear, and her knees began to tremble.
“Do you think it’s a trap?” she asked.
The Sheikh sighed heavily. “I don’t know. But we have to get into the bunker, regardless.”
She gingerly stepped up onto the edge of the fountain and began circling the basin. Water splashed lazily into the shallow pool, and she noticed that something was inscribed along the outside of the center pillar, from the top of which water cascaded down.
“Balal, can you translate this for me?” she whispered. “My reading skills are a little rusty.”
Balal obliged. “To enter eternity is to open one’s heart.”
Jenna continued to walk around. “Doesn’t…doesn’t this word mean open?” she asked, pointing to one of the inscriptions.
Balal’s eyes grew wide. He hopped up on the lip of the fountain beside her and then lowered himself into the fountain itself.
“Balal!” she hissed, and watched as he sloshed through the water to the pillar in the middle.
He ran his hand over the word, looking for anything that could have been a clue, or a keyhole. Soon, his fingers touched on a button, and there was a grinding sound.
They both circled the fountain’s pillar, and discovered a doorway had opened on the eastern side, with a ladder leading down.
This is like something out of a spy movie, Jenna thought absently.
The Sheikh walked across the distance between them, then placed his hands on her shoulders.
“Listen, I’m starting to think that you would be better off waiting for me up here. I don’t know if you will be safe, and—”
“Absolutely not,” Jenna cut in, stepping down into the water. It was icy cold in the desert night, but she walked across to the opening, just above the water line. “I’m coming with you.”
Balal’s eyes were concerned, but she could see that he was pleased.
“Balal,” she said, staring down at the darkness. She had never been a fan of ladders, especially when she didn’t know where they ended. “Shouldn’t we call the police? Or the army? Maybe sending soldiers would be better than going in ourselves?”
Balal shook his head.
“As much as I would like to do that, and I know it might be easier…” He shook his head. “No, I need to do this alone.”
“But why?” Jenna asked.
Now that they were standing there in front of it, it seemed like they were tempting fate. She had no desire to go in, and she wanted to convince Balal of that as well.
“Because…” Balal murmured. “I am still hoping that maybe I can change his mind somehow.”
Jenna studied his face in the moonlight.
“Something in me says that he can still change. I am hoping that he will repent and turn himself in. If I can do this in the least violent way, then I will take the opportunity and do it.”
Jenna sighed. She could understand his thought process; if it were her brother down there, she would want to give him every opportunity to change. But the idea of forgiving a man who had been part of her kidnapping made her afraid, and angry. She wasn’t ready to do that yet.
“Jenna,” Balal whispered as he took one of her hands in his own.
“Yes?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly.
“Regardless of what happens tonight, I…” He trailed off, pulling her closer to him, and his lips were just inches from her own. “I want you to know that I’m so glad that I met you,” he said, and then he kissed her with a perfect mix of tenderness and passion.
Jenna’s mind fogged up as she gave in to the kiss, pressing herself against him. She wrapped her arms around the Sheikh and held him close, worrying that it might be the last kiss they ever shared.
When they broke apart, she had tears in her eyes. She hastily wiped them away.
“Well, if we are going to do this,” Balal said as he stepped toward the ladder. “I guess now is as good a time as any.”
Jenna was glad that the rungs of the ladder were layered with a rubbery material that prevented them from slipping as they made their way down into the fountain. She almost fell when the door to the fountain closed as soon as they were clear of it, returning the fountain to its original state.
At the bottom of the ladder, there was a long hall, and at the very end, a thick, black, metal door. There was a keycard scanner beside it, and a single, lone light hanging from the ceiling.
It was foreboding, to say the least. Jenna felt the cold of the cement walls and floor around her, and she shivered, her pants still soaking wet.
“Now what?” she breathed, her voice harsh and echoing in the hall.
Balal looked different against the harsh, white light overhead. She saw his jaw had tightened.
“We can still go back,” she continued, gently. “I can climb back up the ladder, find a button, and—”
He held up his hand and took a few steps toward the door. Jenna saw a flashing green button on the keypad, and Balal’s hand hovered over it.
“Balal,” she whispered, and she reached out to stop his hand. “You have no idea what that button does.”
The Sheikh looked back at her.
“I know that, but the only way that I am going to find out is if I press it.”
Am I just going to stand here and let him do this? Jenna swallowed hard. Well, if he thinks we are safe, then I need to trust him. I have to. Otherwise, we might not make it out of this alive.
Chapter Thirteen
Balal's face tightened as he pressed down on the button. There was a loud beep, and then a voice. It was deep, raspy, like a person who spent their life smoking cigars.
“Who’s there?”
Jenna was surprised that the voice spoke in English, and not Arabic. She looked up at Balal's face, but he didn't show any surprise.
Is that your brother’s voice? Balal, you are so difficult to read right now.
Balal cleared his throat, his finger still on the green button.
“I am Sheikh Balal El-Djourani. I'm here for my brother.”
He pulled his finger off of the button.
“Password?” the voice replied a few maddeningly long seconds later.
Balal blinked in confusion, his eyes searching the door, as if it might give him some sort of clue. Maybe he wasn’t used to his name not working like a key in a lock.
“Password?” he repeated, clearly surprised. Then he pressed the button again. “I don't know any password.”
“Then you aren't getting in,” the voice said firmly.
The Sheikh groaned, his finger still on the button.
“Please, I need to see my brother.” Jenna could see the pain on Balal's face as clear as day. “I know he’s in there.”
Jenna thought she heard rustling from behind the door, but she couldn't be sure. There was another beep from the button as Balal pressed it once more.
“Let me in, goddammit!”
Another voice came over the speaker, a different voice.
“Well, well, I figured you would find me eventually. Honestly, I’m surprised it took you this long.”
Balal’s face fell, and Jenna knew. It was Ahmad.
There was a series of loud clicks, and then what sounded like a wheel being turned. The hulking black metal door opened inward, and Jenna ducked behind Balal’s broad form. She realized that her knees were trembling. She grasped the back of his shirt, clinging tightly. She had no idea what she was walking into, but she didn’t want to be separa
ted from him, not even for a second.
They stepped through the door, into a large, echoing room. It had a low ceiling, with sparse lights hanging from it, just like the one in the hall. There were rounded archways all around, dividing the large room into sections.
Beneath one arch, Jenna saw a large pile of wooden boxes stacked all the way to the ceiling. In the archway closest to her, she saw two sets of bunks, each with a small metal box at the foot. The other side of the room had an area with a worn, wooden desk, and another archway full of what looked like filing cabinets.
She couldn’t see much past Balal, but she heard enough shuffling footsteps to know that they were way outnumbered. She wished he had decided to bring his guards along. She had heard them arguing before she’d gone to bed, asking to come with him, but Balal had refused, saying that their presence would draw too much attention. Jenna had understood that when she’d been in the safety of the penthouse. But now, in a room full of gang members, she wondered how much of his pride was getting in the way.
Balal came to a stop, and Jenna pressed herself up against his back.
“Come out from behind him,” a voice rang out. It was the second voice from the speaker. “Or I’ll make you.”
She heard movement, and Balal put his hands around her.
“She’s with me,” Balal said. He looked over his shoulder. “Come around, Jenna. We want to show them that we are coming in peace.”
She swallowed hard and thought about running back out of the door. But she knew that the only way to protect Balal right now was to listen to him. So, she slowly stepped out from behind him and stood beside him.
She could see the room clearly now. She could see there were at least a dozen more archways around the room, all housing different things. She also saw three doors along the back wall, shadowed and dark.
There was a man in a loose white shirt, only partially buttoned, as if he had been disturbed in his getting ready. He wore dark pants, and his hair was shaggy and disheveled, but almost in a stylish way. The way he stood there, almost a head shorter than Balal, with a lanky, boyish body, made him look as if he did not have a care in the world.