Son of the Sheik
Page 18
For a moment he was blinded by rage, but he soon had that under control and shifted into combat mode as he’d done so many times in his life. His family was inside and he was not stopping until they were safe and again under his watch.
Driving a shoulder into the door would do nothing. He knew that the door wouldn’t budge. It was that well-built.
He pulled the Glock from his hip and stood back. He used his forearm to cover his eyes and as much of his face as possible as he stood slightly sideways and fired once, twice. He blew a hole through the lock and flipped the knob, bursting into the room.
He could hear voices in the corridor to his left, away from the boy. Relief and rage collided. The boy’s room was in the opposite direction. He might be safe. Was Sara?
He had his gun in both hands and he led with the weapon as he turned into the corridor.
The man Talib faced was not the boy he remembered. He’d obviously lived a hard life in the interim, hard and bitter from the looks of the deep lines and the hateful twist of his mouth. But it was who he had by the neck that terrified Talib.
“I didn’t expect you,” Habib said, the gun he held to Sara’s head not wavering for an instant.
“I’m sure you didn’t,” Talib said calmly as he lowered the gun.
“Give me the money and she lives,” Habib snarled as his eyes met Talib’s. “You gave a quarter of what I asked. What do you think I am, a fool?”
“Certainly not,” Talib said carefully.
“Certainly not,” he replied, mocking Talib’s careful diction. “Quit making bloody fun of me. You and your rich-kid attitude.”
It was like he was slipping back into childhood and using terms he might have used as a boy.
“I would never make fun of you,” Talib said. “I’ll get the money...” He met Sara’s eyes. He wanted to give her a signal, tell her that it was all right. That he’d make it all right no matter what it took. She and Everett would be fine. But he couldn’t say any of that, he could only try to communicate some of it with a look.
She blinked, slowly, carefully, as if telling him that she understood.
“Certainly, I can give you money. How much? I’m always happy to help someone in need. Even though I have no tie to the kid.”
“Certainly, nothing,” Habib said in a raised voice that had a snarl edging through it. “I’m taking the boy, there’s nothing you can do to stop me. You can have him back when I get the money.”
He met Sara’s eyes. There was something sparking in them that reflected more determination than panic. Habib had her by the throat and he could see the red handprint on her cheek where he’d hit her. Down the opposite hall, Everett continued to scream for his mother.
It was a horrific scene. His family was on the edge of destruction because of a madman. He needed to think his way out of this. But options had been eliminated. There were no guns blazing, no hand-to-hand battle. The mother of his son stood between those two options.
“Take him. Take the kid if you want,” Talib said and Sara looked at him with horror. “I was willing to help once. But twice.” He shrugged. “It’s not like my heart’s in it.”
He tried not to meet her eyes after that. He could only hope that she’d realize what he was trying to do.
“What are you saying?” Habib scowled.
“I don’t want him. He was born out of wedlock. Did you know that?” He put his gun back in its holster and ran a hand through his hair as he attempted to look put out and casual. “There’s no guarantee he’s even mine. In fact, I have serious doubts...”
“Shut up!” Habib screamed. “Just shut up. He’s yours.”
“I’m not on the birth certificate,” Talib said calmly, but his heart beat at an insane rate. He couldn’t look at Sara, could only hope that her silence was confirmation that she realized what he was doing and was playing along. “Besides that, any kid of mine wouldn’t be that ugly.”
“You’re playing me.”
“You’re the lucky one, Habib. You got out of the establishment. Away from the users like her.”
Silence was heavy between them. He kept eye contact with Habib. It was one of the hardest things he’d ever done.
“Don’t make me repeat it. If you want the kid, take him. As you can hear, all he does is scream. I want nothing to do with him. Take her, too.” The words stuck on his lips. They were the most difficult words he’d ever said. But they were having an effect, he could see the doubt on his opponent’s face.
“You want me to take the kid?” Habib scowled as if what Talib had been saying was finally registering. He wasn’t holding Sara as tightly against him as his face reflected his doubts.
Talib shrugged. Finally, he looked at Sara, saw the tears that shimmered, but her lips turned slightly up. It was a signal that she was with him. “Why don’t you show us that birth certificate and prove once and for all that you’re just another conniving gold digger?” Talib said to Sara as he glared at her and mentally begged her to stay strong.
She didn’t drop her gaze, only the slight smile was gone. “I needed the money,” she said softly.
“Sure you did,” he snarled. “I’m sick of her. Take her if you want.”
He looked at Habib. “You know I envied you. You never had these problems with women like her. I don’t know if any woman ever liked me for me. Seriously, this one’s a doozy, the kid really is uglier than sin.”
He looked at Sara. “Get the birth certificate, show him,” he demanded in a voice that was lethal. “If nothing else, get the brat’s passport.”
Sara’s eyes met his and something—an understanding—passed between them, almost as electric as the passion they’d so recently rediscovered. It was brief, and as quickly as they disconnected, she sank her teeth into her captor’s forearm and, at the same time, pushed away from his grip. It wasn’t much. There was a split second of time that was all it would take for Habib to regain control.
It was all Talib needed. He pulled his gun. He aimed even as he said that one important word to the woman he knew he loved. “Run.”
He didn’t have to say more. There was only one place for her to run. Straight to their son, where she would protect him with her life.
He only had an instant, but it was enough. One shot took out Habib.
He couldn’t let his thoughts stray any further than that. Habib was down and he wasn’t moving. Blood pooled around his head. He strode over, pushed him with his foot, then leaned down and put the back of his hand under his nostrils. Nothing. He checked his pulse for good measure.
“Dead,” he said with satisfaction and pulled an afghan off the back of the couch and dropped it over the body. It wasn’t a matter of respect but rather an act of protection. He didn’t want his son’s innocence destroyed by the sight, or the woman he loved traumatized any more than she already had been.
This kind of thing was his world. For a short time, it had been theirs. It was up to him to make sure it never happened again.
Chapter Thirty-One
“It’s finally over, sweetheart,” Talib said to Sara. It was a few hours later. The police had completed their questioning and the body had been removed. In the midst of all that, Everett had been placed under the watchful care of Andre. When she’d last checked, Andre had parked the boy with him in the kitchen, where the staff were being entertained by the toddler’s antics. There were more volunteer guards and nannies in that kitchen than a state prison. Even if there was a threat, Talib had no doubt that it would be handled.
“What do we do now?” Sara asked.
It wasn’t about the two of them. They both knew that she asked because of their son. He was the one unspoken agreement between them. They’d both do whatever it took to protect him and that meant giving him what was best for him in all things.
“You’l
l want to see him.”
“Of course,” Talib said easily. “But I want to see his mother, too.”
“What do you mean?”
“I love you, Sara. I think I always have. I...” He paused and rephrased his words. “We should never have broken up.”
“It was your doing.” She shook her head as if remembering the experience. “Although, I think I might have had my moments.”
“No, you’re right. It was my fault. If I’d hung in there, we would have been a family. I wouldn’t have missed...”
“I’m so sorry, Talib. If I could do it over—”
“I know,” he said, cutting her off. He put a hand on her shoulder. “There’s so much more I know about you, sweetheart, and oddly about myself that I’ve learned since you came back into my life.”
“Can you forgive me?”
“Not that long ago I would have never forgiven you,” Talib said darkly. “What you did was incomprehensible. At least that’s how I would have seen it even a year ago and how I saw it when you first told me. I see it a little differently now. I guess, I see your side, or at least some of it.”
“I wouldn’t forgive me,” she said softly.
“You’re not me,” Talib replied. “I’m willing to forgive if you are.”
She stood up, her hands twisted behind her back. She couldn’t look at him. She didn’t want to admit the real reason that she’d kept them apart. Her fear had been that great. They couldn’t reach an agreement if she wasn’t honest with herself, with Talib.
Fear. That’s all it had been, but it wasn’t such a small thing for it had stolen two years of a father’s time with his son. It was unforgiveable and in an odd way she thought she might feel worse about it than Talib.
“I was afraid.”
“Were you that afraid of me?” Talib asked darkly. “What did I do?” He stood up, his hands opening wide as he made an expansive gesture that seemed to include her and the empty room at large.
“You didn’t do anything,” she said softly, although she thought of the breakup and realized that that wasn’t completely true. She’d harbored some resentment toward him over that. But that wasn’t the reason for everything that came down after that point. “It was about who you are. Who your family is.”
“My family?” His dark brows drew together and, for a minute, there was silence between them. “You mean our wealth.” It wasn’t a question. They both knew that was part of the problem. He hadn’t needed to ask.
“Part of it,” she said softly. “Your influence. All of it.”
“Everett is part of that.”
“I know. And I planned for you to know of him someday. I just didn’t want...”
“This is about custody, isn’t it?” He scowled. “I don’t believe this. You thought...”
“It wasn’t like that. It—”
“You came here believing that you would lose him,” Talib said in a soft voice that was underscored with a steely determination. Somehow he had closed the gap between them and now he stood just to her left, behind her, too large, too imposing, too close.
His hand touched her shoulder, heavy and solid, as he turned her around to face him, closing the last bit of safety, of distance, between them.
“It was a reprehensible thing you did,” he said softly.
Her heart broke at the words.
“But it took real courage to come here.” He cupped her face between his hands. “Your sense of right won over.”
“It was what Ev needed,” she said quietly. She looked up, met his eyes. Usually so guarded, they now seemed to reflect a piece of his soul. “It was what you both needed.”
“It was what we needed,” he said in a thick whisper. “Everett needs to know who he is and where he comes from. He needs to spend time in Morocco.”
“With you?”
“Exactly. But not by himself, of course,” he quickly assured her. “He’s too young to be without his mother.”
“What are you suggesting?”
He took both her hands in his. “I want to try again, Sara, with us. I want us to be good parents to our son. Together—here, in Morocco.”
“My career?” She blushed. They both knew her management career had dead-ended in the States along with her dream to own a bed-and-breakfast, as she’d fled from state to state.
“Ian is in desperate need of a manager. Someone who knows the business. I mentioned...”
“You didn’t?” She felt a sudden sense of relief.
“I did.”
“I don’t have a work visa,” she said, realizing the silliness of such a comment. She was speaking to an Al-Nassar. She didn’t doubt that paperwork would not be an issue. They lived in a different world than other beings, it had been part of what had torn them apart.
“I love you,” he said simply.
“I’ve never stopped loving you,” she said.
“You’ve never said that before.”
“I was afraid you’d never say it back,” she replied. For it was true—what did she have to offer an Al-Nassar? She had nothing that he wanted but his son.
“I’d marry you whether you had Everett or not,” he said. “In fact, I’d have married you three years ago if one of us hadn’t botched things up.”
“Talib.” She punched him lightly in the chest.
He leaned down and kissed her, hot and hard and passionately, and it told her everything she needed to know and everything he felt. She melted into him and into the promise of that kiss, knowing that the future would be much different than she’d imagined. It would be a future, that, once, so unbelievably long ago, she’d dreaded.
Epilogue
Three months later
The move had been less difficult than Sara had imagined. She’d never considered traveling anywhere. Not in her previous life and definitely nowhere as exotic as Morocco. She’d never thought of living anywhere other than Wyoming. Since becoming a mother, the focus of her thoughts had been what was best for her son. He needed his father. The events of the last months had proven that. More importantly, both her son and his father had roots here. It was a pull that was undeniable. It was a land that belonged to both of them and, as a result, belonged to her, as well.
But Talib had rocked everything when he’d announced only a few days ago that he wanted to join his brother Faisal in the Wyoming branch of Nassar Security.
After everything that had transpired, she’d been ready to stay in Morocco for a while, even for the duration of Everett’s childhood, if that’s what it took to make their family feel whole. But Talib had insisted that while his son needed to know his family, he was fine with raising him in Wyoming with visits to Morocco. Sara was overjoyed—Wyoming was where she grew up and, truthfully, the thought of returning was something she’d never anticipated and filled her with joy. Morocco had been an experience, a place she was willing to stay for the good of her son, but Wyoming was what she knew and, before she met Talib, what made her feel safe. Going home was the ultimate gift.
The time they’d spent in the compound had, in an odd way, been like a trial marriage. But it was the patient wooing that Talib had done, the thoughtful dates that always factored in what her interests and passions were, dates he’d arranged over the weeks when the horror in their lives had finally ended. When life calmed down he’d also spent time alone with their son. Taking him out on what he called boy trips, which Everett loved. Sara also enjoyed the time alone. He was thoughtful in every way, a natural father. But it was as a lover that he totally won her over. Not, if she really wanted to admit it, that he needed to win her over. She’d always loved him and even after everything that had happened, she’d always trusted him. He’d been who she’d turn to in what had looked like her darkest hour.
It had been a surprise to learn he had felt th
e same.
But it was the ring on her finger that early winter evening over a private supper that had convinced her more than Talib’s words. Even though his words meant everything.
As his lips met hers, she knew that it meant everything to Talib, too.
“It’s not official,” he whispered against her lips. “But the three of us are a family.
“Sara Al-Nassar,” he whispered.
“Elliott,” she whispered back. “I’ll save Al-Nassar for you and the baby.”
“As long as you’re mine,” he said.
“Deal,” she whispered back and his tongue opened her lips with a gentle caress and they both knew that the name meant nothing and everything.
“Unless you wanted to argue now and make up with a little loving...”
“Talib,” she giggled and curled up against him. “Al-Nassar and Elliott, that’s a lot of family.”
“A whole lot of family,” he agreed.
* * * * *
Check out the previous books in the
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SHEIK’S RULE
SHEIK’S RESCUE
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