by Emma Nichols
Niomi and Iman continued to wave. Ash and Tarek had stopped paddling for a moment and sat back on their heels. Ash was wiping her forearm across her forehead. Tarek did the same. Craig and Zack were paddling, crouched just behind them.
Ash scanned the bridge hungrily, and it didn’t take long for her eyes to register Iman bouncing up and down and waving like crazy. Her heart skipped a beat. She could see Iman’s smile, and it was getting wider. She looked over her shoulder briefly and then to the finish line just beyond the bridge. The buzzing in her chest told her they were going to win. She waved. ‘Look, Iman and Niomi,’ she said.
Tarek held his paddle above his head, making a pumping action.
Zack looked up, a beaming smile accompanying his waving arms. ‘We’re gonna win,’ he yelled.
‘Keep paddlin’,’ Craig hollered.
Ash started laughing. ‘They’re nowhere near. Just you keep your fucking body in the boat bud. That’s the biggest threat to us now,’ she chuckled. Tarek wiped the tears of laughter from his cheeks.
‘Fuck off,’ Craig teased, but his eyes carried the shine of victory. Only one thing was missing. Kate! At least she’d promised to be at the after race party.
‘I love you,’ Zack shouted up, as they passed under the bridge.
Niomi blushed, her hands cupping her cheeks.
Iman felt Ash’s smile, deep in her chest. She hoped Ash felt her smile too.
The man drank from his cup, lit another cigarette, and ducked into the crowd.
Raucous cheers, clapping, and whistles filled the afternoon sky as Craig, Ash, Tarek, Zack and Dan, landed their raft. Even Dan couldn’t shake the beaming smile from his face as he disembarked cautiously.
Ash slapped him on the back. ‘You okay?’ Dan’s grin disappeared. He turned, leaned over, and heaved. Ash started laughing. ‘Don’t fucking volunteer for offshore,’ she said, patting him on the back.
‘Told y’all we’d fuckin’ win.’ Craig slapped her on the arm and handed over a beer. ‘Cheers,’ he said, raising his bottle.
‘Cheers.’ She clinked her bottle and sipped.
‘What’s with him,’ Craig said, finally noticing Dan’s head between his knees.
‘No sea legs,’ she said, with a wry smile.
‘Don’t fuckin’ volunteer for offshore,’ he said with a tilt of his head.
Ash laughed. ‘Yep,’ she said, her eyes scanning the path leading from the bridge.
‘Party time,’ Craig said. ‘Right, let’s get this baby outta the water,’ he added. ‘Tarek!’ he yelled, waving his arm.
30.
‘Hello, Iman.’
Iman jumped, and her heart raced. The voice came from the left-hand side of the kitchen bins. She froze. ‘Joram.’ Her shaky voice, controlled by her instinctive sense of concern, surprised her. His timbre was as she remembered, even though it had been a while since she had seen him, but something in his tone caused unpleasant goose bumps to ride down her spine. His body must have been obscured from view when she had entered the kitchen moments ago, darkened by its orientation to the hotel, and out of reach of the descending sun. She tried to breathe, but her chest was too tight. She wanted to move, but her legs were weak.
Joram took a step into her path, his face just inches from hers, his eyes flaming. ‘You did this, didn’t you?’
Iman tried to take a step back, but the wall stopped her. She tried to speak, but his hand moved violently and smothered her mouth. The strong smell of stale tobacco and alcohol caused her to wriggle, to try to free herself, but his rough hands just pressed harder.
‘You. You drove her away from me.’
Iman’s stomach lurched at the thunderous look in his eyes. The sudden shift, from the giddy excitement she had felt as she locked the door to the kitchen heading for the party at Craig’s house, was causing her body to convulse.
‘Open the door,’ he demanded, spittle flying from his foaming mouth. Iman reached for the keys and held them out to him. Pinning her to the wall, with her covered mouth, he snatched at them, turned the key in the lock and pushed her into the kitchen restroom. ‘Do not scream,’ he commanded.
Iman nodded, standing still, willing the tears that were forming in her dazed gaze not to spill out. ‘I don’t…’
‘Shut up.’ He stepped into the room, dominating the small space with his angry presence. ‘Why did you turn her against me?’ he asked, rubbing his hands through his greasy, styled hair.
‘I didn’t,’ Iman whispered, drawing her head back from him as she spoke.
‘She’s marrying an infidel. How did you get her parents to agree to that? They’re weak, just like yours.’ He spat, looking down his nose at her. He didn’t want answers that he wasn’t willing to hear.
Iman stared, wide-eyed. Any excitement she had felt for her friend drowned in the fear that had her heart thumping in her chest. Joram’s eyes were scanning her, tracing slowly down her body. Her skin shuddered as he stopped at her breasts and then again at the point between her legs. She couldn’t swallow, couldn’t breathe.
‘Riffat always said you were odd,’ he smirked. The strong scent of tobacco, as his hand reached up and toyed with her hair, caused the bile to rise in her throat. ‘Are you?’ he asked, taking a pace back and assessing her again. ‘You look like a real woman to me,’ he said, lost inside his warped perspective.
‘No.’ The word came out as a squeak, her head recoiling from his touch.
His hand moved down to her neck and squeezed her throat. ‘Not a sound.’ His wild glare lacked focus, but his intention was clear. He pressed her roughly against the locker wall, and she moaned as a shooting pain ripped through her shoulder. His hand moved down to her breast, and he started to squeeze roughly. ‘See you like this,’ he said.
Iman gasped, her head spinning, and her body frozen. The red rage building inside her mind just seemed to lodge itself in her chest, going nowhere. The power she needed to fight was lost, between her fear and physical inadequacy. She wanted to scream, but her voice wouldn’t come either, and there would be repercussions if it did.
‘You like this feeling? Did Riffat do this to you too? Did you fuck him? Or are you odd Iman? Are you a woman lover Iman? This is what Riffat thinks, but maybe you just need a confident man, eh? Sometimes a woman needs a strong man. See, you like this I can tell.’ His coarse fingers were manipulating her nipple, underneath the flimsy dress.
His questions barely registered, and the only sensation passing through her body was revulsion. The stench from his breath, too close to her face, was causing the tension to rise in her spine and shoulders. She needed to relax to be able to break free, but if she did, he would take it the wrong way. ‘Please get off me Joram,’ she said, appealing to the better nature she had seen, in the years she had known him.
‘You need a real man, Iman, to teach you the proper way,’ he whispered, his rugged face pressing against her cheek.
‘Joram, stop. This is not right.’ She tried to push against his chest, but he leaned into her, pressing his rough lips into her neck, his free hand scooping up her dress. ‘Joram!’ She screamed out, and he silenced her firmly with his mouth, his tongue trying to penetrate the space, and her teeth refusing entry. He grabbed at her throat, forcing her chin up and her mouth to open. His tongue probed the small gap and his hand grasped between her legs, ripping at the thin cloth that offered no protection.
The groan emanating his foul mouth caused her senses to close down; recoil into the space and time of another dimension. Her body was falling, as the weight that had been pressing against her suddenly lifted. Her eyes remained closed while her ears registered the rustling sounds, and then groaning. A man was cursing, and then there was another crunching sound, and a familiar voice crying out. She tried to open her eyes but they refused, and she remained curled up against a locker, her arms wrapped around her knees. Then there was silence.
‘Iman.’ The tender touch on her arm caused her to flinch and retract, but the voice ope
ned her eyes, and she stared, momentarily confused.
‘Kate!’ The pain in the dark green eyes that stared at her allowed the tears to fall on her face.
Kate kneeled in front of her, anger trying to burst through her chest, every ounce of her will, fighting the desire to stand up and finish off the job she had started. She wanted to reach out, hold Iman, reclaim her own inner child, but Iman had flinched away, and she understood only too well how that felt. The man on the floor was holding his head, blood pouring from a deep cut to his face, and his legs folded, his knees up to his chest. Whatever damage she had inflicted, it would never be enough. ‘I’ll call the police,’ she said.
‘No!’ Iman’s hand braced down on her arm. ‘No, we can’t,’ she insisted. Her glassy eyes averted Kate’s gaze. ‘This is Joram, Niomi’s ex-boyfriend,’ she added as if the details should make a difference to Kate’s comprehension.
Joram groaned as he tried to straighten his legs.
‘Did he hurt you?’ Kate asked, her voice stern as she focused her attention on the prostrate man on the floor.
‘No.’ Iman’s voice was vulnerable, but she was shaking her head. ‘No, I’ll be fine. I’m just…’ She was trembling violently.
Kate studied the pitiful man on the floor. ‘Get up,’ she demanded, driven by something profound, something repressed for too long.
Joram scrambled to sit and glared from Iman to Kate and back again. ‘Fucking women whores!’ He spat on the floor in front of Iman. Kate rose up and finding the strength she didn’t know she had, pulled him up by his collar, her face inches from his. ‘You…’
‘Don’t, please.’ Iman’s words stopped her, and she released her grip. Joram retracted at the threat and hit the wall behind him. ‘Get out,’ Kate said, through gritted teeth. ‘You stay away from her. You stay away or I will…’ The words sounded weaker than she wanted.
Joram smirked. He looked down at them both and stared through the top of his eyes. ‘You need to watch out,’ he threatened, with a raised hand. ‘You’re sick, and you will be punished.’ His deliberate pronunciation and dark tone affirmed his place in his society - on the right side of the law. This was Syria. He scampered out the door.
Kate slumped to the floor. ‘Are you okay?’ she asked, her voice betraying the sudden onset of the trembling in her body.
Iman rested her head against the locker, unable to move from the floor. Her hair was ruffled, and her breast and shoulder still felt tender from the assault, but she had been lucky. ‘How did you…?’ she asked.
‘I saw the door open. I was on my way to the party, and then I heard a scream.’ Kate wiped at the tears that eased down Iman’s cheeks. ‘I’m so sorry Iman.’
Iman moved onto her knees, facing Kate. ‘You saved me,’ she said, holding Kate’s watering eyes with tenderness.
Kate brushed her hand across her forehead, willing the tears to abate.
‘You’re bleeding,’ Iman gasped, catching sight of the red graze covering the back of Kate’s hand.
‘I smacked him hard,’ she said, a wry smile forming.
‘Good.’ Iman nodded, but she wasn’t smiling. ‘I need to find Ash,’ she said, in a whisper.
‘Yes.’ Kate stood slowly and offered Iman a hand up. Iman swayed as she stood, and Kate pulled her into her arms to steady her. ‘You okay?’ she asked, releasing her and watching her balance.
Iman nodded. She moved slowly. Locking the kitchen door behind her she pocketed the keys, and they walked across the road in silence.
*
‘Hey Kate,’ Ash said, chirpily, as the redhead stepped into the kitchen. Ash held her gaze. Kate’s silence and stern green eyes sent a chill down her spine. ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked, looking frantically over Kate’s shoulder.
‘What’s happened?’
Kate stepped closer and placed her hands on Ash’s shoulders, drawing her entire focus. ‘Iman…’
Ash pulled away, violently, trying to escape the firm grip.
‘She’s fine, Ash.’ Kate was trying to hold Ash’s jittery eyes but to no avail. ‘Ash, listen to me.’ Kate held her more firmly.
Ash stared at her, breathing deeply to try to control the anxiety that flared inside her. ‘What’s happened, Kate? Tell me.’
‘There’s been an incident.’ Ash squirmed. ‘She’s fine. ‘Apparently, it was Niomi’s ex-boyfriend. He tried to assault her. He got what he deserved,’ she added, her jaw clenched, her eyes on her grazed knuckles. ‘She’s fine Ash, and she’ll explain to you. She’s at your house.’ Ash wriggled free and stormed out of the house. Within seconds she was through her front door.
‘Iman,’ she yelled, the swell of tears pressing hard at the back of her eyes. Iman stood at the kitchen table, and Ash rushed into the room, and into her arms. ‘Are you okay?’ she whispered, unwilling to release her hold, clasping Iman to her chest. Iman was shaking, sobbing, and the stabbing pain piercing Ash’s heart was intolerable. If it continued, she would surely pass out. She squeezed Iman tightly and repeatedly kissed the top of her head. ‘God, I was so scared,’ she whispered, her pulse slowing a fraction with the knowledge that Iman was at least safe. ‘Did he… hurt you?’ she asked, slowly releasing Iman and staring into her dark eyes.
Iman shook her head. ‘I got lucky,’ she said. ‘Kate came in before he…’ Iman struggled to get the words out.
Ash’s features tensed. ‘Bastard!’
‘I’d like a bath,’ Iman said in a softer voice.
Ash puffed out a deep breath, and then another. ‘I’ll go and run one,’ she offered. She made a move, but Iman clung on to her. ‘In a minute,’ she added, pulling Iman closer again.
Iman started to breathe without sobbing and gently eased back. She couldn’t think of any words to say as her mind replayed the touch of Joram’s hands on her body, over and over again. Her skin crawled, and her stomach churned. She averted Ash’s eyes, her thoughts competing with her need to be held, loved, and caressed, by Ash. She stepped out the kitchen and started up the stairs. Ash followed.
‘There’s a robe,’ Ash said, pointing to the back of the bathroom door. She turned to leave. ‘I’ll wait…’
‘Please come in with me,’ Iman said. Her dark eyes lowered to the suds forming with the running water.
A soft smile appeared on Ash’s face. ‘Are you sure?’ she asked, moving to close off the taps.
Iman looked up and locked onto the dark-blue irises, laden with sadness. ‘Yes.’ Iman reached out and traced a line down Ash’s cheek, sweeping the hair around her ear. She leaned in and placed a tender kiss on her lips. ‘I want you, Ash. I cannot change that fact, no matter what happens. I will not change that,’ she said. There was no uncertainty in her tone.
Ash smiled, but her eyes didn’t lighten. She nodded, her vision clouded by a reality they both needed to face.
Iman eased into the bath and slid her body down beneath the water, cleansing the assault from her skin. As she emerged, she swept her hair behind her, squeezed the water from her eyes and opened them. The flowery scent was already soothing her mind, and the warm suds were softening her body.
Ash stepped into the bath behind Iman and started soaping her back with more suds and rubbing softly, massaging her shoulders and down her arms. She continued to apply the rose scented soap, up Iman’s neck, down her shoulders and across her collarbone. Taking great care to tenderly caress the top of her breasts, her own breasts pressing into Iman’s back, she placed a soft kiss on the exposed neck and immediately regretted doing so.
Iman flinched. She hadn’t meant to and didn’t want to. It had just happened, and a surge of something uncomfortable spiked in her stomach. She tensed in Ash’s arms.
‘Sorry,’ Ash whispered.
Iman turned her head to face the wet, blue eyes. ‘No Ash! It’s not you.’ She leaned back and placed a tender kiss on Ash’s lips.
The fire that burst through Ash’s chest caused her eyes to wet.
‘Take me to bed.’ Iman s
aid, wiping away an errant tear.
‘I need to take you home,’ Ash retorted, staring, seeking.
‘No.’ Iman was shaking her head, and there was warmth in her eyes, that seemed unaffected by the sadness in Ash’s heart.
‘What about your parents?’ Ash asked.
‘I told them I was staying with you tonight.’ The smile that appeared went some way to alleviate the sorrow that had befallen them both. ‘And, I think they are going to need to get used to me not being around,’ she added, mournfully.
Ash sighed. ‘Are you going to do the course?’ she asked, softly.
‘Yes.’ Iman leaned in and pressed her mouth tenderly to Ash’s. She eased slowly out of the kiss and locked onto Ash’s eyes. ‘Will you hold me in bed please?’ she asked.
‘Yes.’ Ash responded.
31.
Ash turned towards the sweet scent, enticing her to open her eyes. She moved closer, spooning behind Iman, her arms wrapping tightly around her slim waist, her mind unwilling to face the fact that Iman would be in Paris by the evening.
Iman sighed, refusing to wake. She moaned softly, at Ash’s warm breath on her neck. ‘Mmmm,’ She mumbled, wriggling her bottom back into Ash’s belly.
‘Mmmm,’ Ash responded. Her hand slowly moved up, crossed Iman’s chest and cupped her breast, holding her close; protecting her.
The contact felt comforting, reassuring, and so very sensual. Iman drifted, absent of thought, fear, and expectation, immersed in the tranquil space that had no beginning and no end.
Ash eventually eased out of the hold, her hand moving up to Iman’s shoulder and beginning to explore the tense muscle running from her arm to her neck. She stopped. ‘Stay here,’ she whispered, easing herself gently from the hold. Slipping out of bed, she stepped into the bathroom.
The slightly smoky, woody scent of cedarwood filtered into Iman’s awareness as Ash’s oily hand resumed its position on her shoulder and started to apply gentle and consistent pressure. She eased down onto her belly, her arms resting either side of her head. Her eyes remained closed, her senses diverted to the aroma and the shifting contact point under Ash’s soft touch. She drifted back into the trance.