by Eve Rabi
“You were just trying to save yourself and the others. It’s not your fault, Megan.”
He called me Megan, not Zarina.
“I’m sorry to do this to you now,” he says.
“Guess it can’t be helped.”
“It can’t, trust me. I have no choice but I promise you … this won’t happen again. I promise.”
“It better not, or I will have to go on welfare.” I smile and pick up my purse. “Try blackmailing me then. You’ll get food stamps, that’s all.”
He laughs. “Still sassy after all you’ve been through. I like that about you. That’s why you’ll always be unforgettable in my mind.”
“Yeah, well, I’ll be happy if you get amnesia round about now and never remember me again. I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say and head toward the door.
“Question!”
Slowly, I turn around, eyebrows raised.
“If we had met say … under … different circumstances … do you think … maybe, we could, like … you and me …?”
I think about that day he caught me sending the email. I remember him telling me how lonely life was for him and how he didn’t fit in, how forlorn he looked when he told me those things.
“Yes, I do.”
His face cracks into a boyish grin.
I walk out the door and when I turn back, he’s still watching me.
***
“So, you’re sure he wasn’t wired yesterday?”
“Yes, Damien.”
“O … kay.” He looks me up and down. “Wear your wig and wear a shorter skirt.”
“Shorter?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll look like a hooker.”
He gives me a so-what look.
My brows furrow. “He’s a Muslim radical.”
“He’s also a man, and hookers visiting motels are not an unusual sight,” he explains. “Get it?”
I nod and go in search of a short skirt and a skimpy top. When I’m dressed, I stand in front of Damien and smooth down my skanky, way-too-short skirt and adjust my wig. Feeling very Pretty Woman right now.
“Stop pulling your skirt down.”
“Okay.”
“When you get to him, move slowly, okay?”
“Sure. What you gonna do?”
“Tail my money, that’s all.”
“You’re not getting it back, so why bother?”
“Just do as I say,” he snaps.
I nod. He hands me a case.
I jerk the case up and down. “Feels light.”
“Don’t open it.”
“There can’t be five million in here.”
“No, there isn’t. We need one more day. Tell him that.”
My anxiousness returns.
***
Mahmood gapes when he sees me. Try as he might, he’s unable to keep his eyes of my bare legs.
“Are you going to let me in, or what?” I ask, my voice a tad flirty.
“Sure, sure, sure!” He moves aside for me to enter.
I step inside. “You wired?”
“No. Are you?”
“No! Didn’t I tell you yesterday, Mahmood …?”
Suddenly, Damien bursts into the apartment and tasers Mahmood. Stunned, I watch with disbelief as Damien kicks the door shut and shoves me aside. When Mahmood screams, he tasers Mahmood again and this time, Mahmood passes out.
“Noooo!” I shout in horror and lunge at Damien. “You’ve killed him. What the hell, Damien?”
He shoves me off him again.
“Why?! Why? DAMIEN?” I scream hysterically. “He’s a CIA agent! He saved my life! Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh, God!”
He backhands me, sending me crashing onto the bed. As I lie on the bed dazed, he straddles me and slaps me twice across the face, so hard, I see tiny silver stars. Grabbing a clump of my hair, he jabs the gun under my chin.
“He’s no fucking CIA agent, you nut job – he’s a fucking terrorist. And you – you caused this whole shit so shut the fuck up, bitch!”
“He helped me, Damien!” I whimper. “He saved my life! He …” I fight to control my hysteria.
Damien lifts and slams my head into the bed. “No one comes between me and my money. Let this be a lesson to you, to your boyfriend, and to anyone who wants to take my stuff. Now, you make one sound and I will taser you and hold your head under water until you join him, understand?”
I nod vigorously.
His granite eyes hold mine. “One sound …”
I nod again.
Slowly, he releases my hair and hops off me. “Wear these,” he says, pulling out a pair of latex gloves from his pocket and flinging them at me. “We gotta get rid of this asshole.”
From inside his jacket he brings out some rope. “Help me!” he hisses as he yanks the quilt off the bed.
Shaking, I get down on the ground and help him wrap Mahmood’s body in it. He leaves the motel room and returns a short while later.
“We have to get him to the trunk of my car. When you get outside, act normal, don’t make eye contact with anyone, understand?”
“Damien, please, he saved my life. He helped …”
“I don’t give a fuck!” Damien snaps. “Move now, before we’re surrounded by more of him. Move!”
I hastily grab one end of the quilt and help him place Mahmood’s body in the trunk of his car, all the while praying no one spots us.
Damien shuts the trunk. “Let’s get out of here. Follow me!”
I follow Damien in my car to a secluded river bank. Damien pulls over and reverses his car so that his trunk is facing the river.
I watch him take a small concrete slab from his trunk and tie it around Mahmood’s body. “That’s what you get for fucking with me,” he says.
It’s too much for me – to Damien’s irritation, I run off to vomit. When I return, Damien eyes me with disdain. “Let’s get him into the water,” he says.
I stand like a wax dummy.
“Now!”
Quickly, I help him drag Mahmood’s body to the river and throw it in. As I stagger back, I watch the body sink.
Damien dusts his hands as he watches. “If your doctor gets in the way, he’ll be next. See those slabs?” He jerks his head toward the trunk of his car. “They’re reserved for your doctor. Remember that. Now get out of here!”
Quickly, I scramble to my car and although I’m shaking, I manage to drive back home.
At home, I run into the shower, strip, and vigorously wash myself, as if I’m able to wash away the heinous crime I partook of.
What have I done? What have I done? Oh, God! He’s dead and it’s all my fault! He saved my life. He saved Reed’s life. I could have refused to help dispose of the body, I could have called 911, I could have run off, but I didn’t. I’m a murderer! I’m a murderer! Oh, God!
Damien. How could he be such a cold-blooded killer? All this because of money? Who is this man I married? How did I not see his evil ways before? To think, I wanted to procreate with him. He’s as evil as Omar.
About an hour later, Damien walks into my room. He eyes me sitting in the dark with a towel wrapped around my wet hair, cradling a glass. Next to me is a half-empty vodka bottle. Slowly, he walks up to me and stands in front of me. In spite of my inebriated state, I still get scared.
“I removed all evidence from my car, the motel room, the motel room register, and the security tapes, so there should be no way to trace it back to us. Keep your trap shut and say nothing to anyone, understand?”
“Damien, we will get caught! With forensics, everyone eventually gets caught and the police, Damien, they will one day come …”
“Who do you think helped me get rid of all evidence, dumbass? The police.”
I stare at him.
“As I said, my arm – it’s long. Keep that in mind when you want to start shit.”
Now, I believe him.
“Now, go get me everything you wore today and yesterday – your shoes, wig, clothes, everything. I need to
burn it all.”
I dutifully do as I’m told and give him everything.
As I lie in bed, I think how lucky I was that I didn’t tell Reed about Damien’s threats. Reed, being the man he was, would have tried to rescue me, and he would have probably met the same fate as Mahmood. A shudder runs through me at the thought of Reed in Damien’s clutches. There is no chance of me ever telling Reed the truth now. It’s just too dangerous.
Chapter Seventeen
Three months without Wyatt. Without holding him, without breathing in his scent, without hearing his beautiful voice. Three months without touching and holding Reed. I guess it’s taking its toll on me because some days, I cannot get out of bed. It doesn’t help that I’m not sleeping.
During one of my public appearances, I get dizzy and slide to the floor. I’m rushed off to the hospital and diagnosed with exhaustion and depression. To Damien’s horror, the doctor plans to admit me a psychiatric hospital for evaluation.
“All your contracts, your sponsors … think of all the money we have to pay back,” Damien says, looking like he just lost a loved one. “We can’t afford that.”
Personally, even though I need the rest, I don’t want to rest – I just want to cross off my list of tasks, and be done with all of this, then go back to my baby and my lover and beg him to take me back.
Seeing how devastated he is, I see an opportunity and I seize it. Placing all my chips on red, I roll my dice. “Damien, the reason I’m this way, is because I’m missing my baby.”
“Baby? You mean that towelhead’s baby?”
“No. That baby – he’s mine. There was no miscarriage. I had a baby. That’s why I’m going nuts. I’m pining for him.”
His laugh is mirthless. “You can’t have babies, you fruitcake. Stop bullshitting me.”
“I can have babies.” I go on to tell him everything but the rape.
For the first time since I’ve known him, he’s at a loss for words.
“If you let me see my baby, I’ll be okay and I’ll have energy to do whatever I need to do.”
“No way!”
“Okay, but letting me see my baby is a small price to pay. Think of the millions we have to pay back and how much we will lose.”
Damien rubs the back of his neck, then rotates his neck, all the while, his eyes fixed to my face. Then, he slowly strokes his chin while I wait to exhale.
Finally, he wags his finger at me. “I’ll consider letting you see that … that … baby … but not him. And you gotta be discreet. Don’t let me come home and find you’re not here.”
My heart leaps inside my chest. “Deal. He probably wants nothing to do with me anyway.”
“If you have anything to do with him, anything at all, I’ll kill him. Ten million is a lot to lose, Megan. I’d whack him for less. But you know that already, right?”
I zone out and smile inwardly. I’m going to call Reed and give him some explanation and sure, he’s going to be pissed, but in the end, he will forgive me. I know that for sure.
I’m so excited, I can barely sit still.
I feel energized enough to climb a mountain.
***
The moment he leaves, I leap out of bed and dial Abeeda’s number. “Abeeda, guess what?” Before she can guess, I blurt out the good news.
For a while, she’s speechless. “Wow, Megan! I can’t believe it,” she finally says. “I’m so happy that you are able to be with Reed and Wyatt again. How do you think Reed’s going to take it?”
“Dunno. I’m going to call him now.”
“Megan, I’m going away to Washington for a while, and I’m embarking on a night study course, so you might not be able to reach me.”
“Okay, call me the moment you get back,” I say and hang up.
Taking a deep breath, I dial Reed’s number.
“Hello, Reed, it’s … it’s … Megan.”
There is a long pause.
“Hello? You there, Reed? Hello?”
“Megan? Celebrity, world-famous-movie-star Megan?”
I ignore his barbs. “Can we talk? Please?
“Talk? But I have nothing to say to you?”
“Ooookay. Um … can I see Wyatt? Please?”
Silence.
“Hello? Reed, you there?”
“You’ve got a nerve,” he finally says.
“Please, Reed.”
“Get lost, Megan.” The phone goes dead.
I dial him again. He doesn’t answer. I call him about five times, but he ignores my calls.
Unsure what to do, I call Abeeda. She doesn’t answer.
Undeterred, I make my way to the hospital parking lot where he practices and wait for him. When he gets to his car, I pounce.
“Stay the hell away from me!” he says when he sees me.
“Please! Just hear me out, Reed.”
“No! And don’t ever come my way. Or Wyatt’s.” His voice is dangerously low.
“Reed, look, I’m really sorry for what I did, but he’s my son. I have a right to see him.”
“Oh, yeah? Let me remind you that you abandoned your baby for money! Now, use the money to comfort you. By the way, you looked pretty good on TV. Just the right touch of drama, Megan. Loved your script. Didn’t know you’re into fiction. Well done there.”
Embarrassed, I look away. He has a right to be pissed off with me, I tell myself. Stay calm and persevere. He gets into his car and inserts the key in the ignition. After all that I’ve been through with Damien and all that I’ve had to sacrifice, he’s just about to drive off? Quickly, I reach into the car and jerk out his keys.
“What the …?” He swivels to look at me.
When I see the anger in his eyes, I take two steps back. He gets out of the car and storms toward me.
“It’s not fair!” I say as I walk backward. “He’s my child too and I want to be able to see him.”
“Fair?! Fair?!” he yells as he walks toward me. “Is it fair that you abandoned him after he bonded with you? Is it fair that he woke up in the middle of the night crying for Mamma? He didn’t eat for days because he was pining for you. Is that fair? Huh?”
Just hearing how Wyatt missed me makes me hang my head. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Reed, please, I wanna make it up to him. And you. Please!!” My eyes brim with tears.
“Ah, so now you bring on the waterworks. Clever girl. It always worked before, didn’t it, Megan? Especially in Iraq, when I was handy. When you needed me to take care of you and protect you. You’re such a user, Megan. Sorry, this time it won’t work. Stay the fuck away!” He reaches over and snatches the keys out of my hands. After flinging me a look of disgust, he starts the car and drives off.
Dejected, I amble slowly to my car, slide into the driver’s seat, and rest my weary head on the steering wheel.
Hurdle after hurdle. First Damien, now Reed.
What do I do now?
***
After two weeks of stalking Reed and getting nowhere, I call on Jake.
“Jake, I need your help.”
“Tell me you’re going ahead with the divorce, Megan. Tell me that asshole Damien is history. Tell me…”
“I wish I could, Jake. Really I do but ... I’m here on another matter. See, I wanna talk candidly with you. What I tell you can destroy me, so no notes and no records.”
Slowly, he puts down his pen. “I’m your attorney, Megan. Any shit you tell me is privileged.”
I fiddle nervously with my fingers. “The doctor who rescued me …”
“Stop, Megan!” He holds up his hand.
“… he’s here and ...”
“What?!” Jake jerks upright.
“… he has my baby with him …”
“I don’t wanna hear it, Megan. I can’t, okay?”
When I fall silent, he frowns. “Baby? What baby?”
Leaning forward, I look him in the eye and blurt out everything – about Iraq, Reed, our
baby, Damien blackmailing me, and Reed’s refusal to let me see Wyatt. Of course, I don’t mention the rape. When I finish, Jake stares so hard at me, I shift in my seat and wonder if I did the right thing confiding in him.
“Megan, this is big. Huge! I get the part about the doctor, but … the baby?” He turns his palm up and down.
“Far-fetched? I know.” I stand up. “Jake, it happened – please don’t start that crap where you ask me if I took my meds this morning and all that, cos then I’ll leave.”
“Okay! Okay!” He motions for me to sit.
Slowly I lower myself into my chair.
“Where do I fit …?”
“I need you to talk to Reed.”
“That … I can do. Rattle him, threaten to sue him …”
“No, no, no, no! Just ask … nicely. My biggest fear – he’ll go back to Iraq or some other Middle Eastern country, and I’ll never see either of them again. I have to take it really easy with him.”
“Yeah, well, he’s lucky you’re adopting that stance ‘cause I can sue his …”
“Damien must not know about your involvement in this.”
He nods as I hand him a page with Reed’s details on it. Feeling like a boulder has been lifted from around my neck and feeling more hopeful than I’ve felt in months, I saunter out the door.
“Megan!”
I turn around. “I could go to jail for this, you know.”
I nod. “If it’s too much for you …”
“I didn’t say that. But, I could.”
“I know, and I’m sorry to drag you into this, but I really need help, and I don’t know who else to turn to.”
“Give me a day or two,” he says, a determined look appearing on his face. “Something will happen.”
“Sure,” I say. “Eh, Jake, there’s something I want to tell you.” I walk slowly back into the room. This man is a true friend to me. I need to tell him about Damien and Bailey.
“Yes …?”
“Damien and …”
His phone rings. He glances at his phone and frowns. “Bailey,” he says. “Lucas is really ill. Would you mind if I took the call?”
“Sure, absolutely. I’ll talk to you another time,” I mouth as he answers the phone.