Fadiyah looked around her, unable to believe what was happening.
“You know the owner of this plane?” Fadiyah asked Jet.
“Not personally, no,” Jet said, nodding at Sebastian. “Baz has met him though.”
Sebastian grinned, nodding. “Joe Sinclair is a class act.”
Jet and Fadiyah sat together, with Fadiyah sitting next to the window. Fadiyah wound her arms around Jet’s right arm, and grasped it tight as the Gulf Stream lifted off. Jet chuckled at her reaction.
“First time flying, huh?” Jet asked her softly.
“Oh, yes,” Fadiyah said, her voice filled with wonder.
Jet smiled. Fadiyah spent most of the flight with her arms around Jet’s arm, only letting go when they had dinner and later breakfast as they neared Los Angles. When she slept on the flight, it was with her arms around Jet’s arm, and her head on Jet’s shoulder.
Chapter 8
They made it back to Los Angles in just less than fourteen hours, without stopping for refueling. As they circled for a landing at LAX, Sebastian grinned.
“Helluva a lot better than the thirty hour trip on the way there,” he said.
“It took thirty hours to come to Iraq?” Fadiyah asked, looking at Jet.
“Well, we flew into Ashgabat in Iran, but yeah, military flights, unless you’re flying a jet, they don’t go this fast.”
Fadiyah looked shocked, then nodded. Once again she realized how much Jet had gone through to come to rescue her, it was still shocking to her.
“That’s what something like sixty-five million will buy you…” Sebastian said.
“I can’t see spending that kind of money…” Jet said, shaking her head.
“But you can buy a hundred and eighty thousand dollar car…” Skyler said from behind her.
Jet laughed out loud. “Okay, good point.”
“Uh-huh,” Skyler said, grinning.
Fadiyah said nothing, shocked at what Skyler had said as well.
An hour later Jet was unlocking the front door to her parents’ house and Fadiyah was shocked at the size of the home. Jet showed her around, eventually showing her to the guest bedroom next to her own room.
“I’m going to put you in here,” Jet said. “So if you need me I’m right there, okay?”
Fadiyah nodded, looking around the room. It was the most beautiful room she’d ever seen. It was painted with a light blue-green color, and decorated with white and darker shades of the blue green and navy blue. The entire house was beautiful; she could not believe that Jet came from such wealth. Jet seemed so humble, not like the type of rich people Fadiyah had ever had occasion to meet. Jet had made a point of telling her over and over again that this house did not belong to her, but to her parents.
“I’m going to go check on the state of my backyard,” Jet said. “Get settled and make yourself at home, okay?”
“Okay,” Fadiyah said, nodding, still looking shell-shocked.
A half an hour later, Fadiyah walked out into Jet’s backyard, to find her shoveling dirt. She noticed that Jet was sweating, and that she had a cigarette in her mouth. She also noticed that Jet had music on; she remembered that Jet had said it helped with her ADHD.
“Should you be doing that with your shoulder hurt?” she asked.
Jet looked over at her, her look assessing. “Sure,” she said, with a grin.
“I do not think so,” Fadiyah said, looking around the yard.
The backyard was beautiful, with green trees and flowering bushes. The breeze that blew was cool and nice; the sun was warm, but not the baking sun of the desert. Fadiyah moved to sit in one of the chairs, looking over at Jet as she worked. Jet had changed into shorts from the jeans she’d worn on the plane, and she now had a tank top on. A few times, when Jet would move Fadiyah would catch glimpses of something on her chest, but she could not make out what it was.
After an hour, Fadiyah couldn’t stand it anymore.
“Jet, you need to rest,” she said, her tone scolding.
Jet looked over at her, quirking a grin.
“I do, do I?” she asked.
“Yes,” Fadiyah said, her tone sure. “You work too hard for someone who is injured.”
Jet laughed at that, moving to sit down in the chair across from Fadiyah. She reached for another cigarette and lit it. Fadiyah watched her.
“What?” Jet asked, seeing Fadiyah watching her.
“You smoke too much.”
Jet grinned. “Yes, yes I do,” she said, taking another long drag off of her cigarette. “And you’ll find that I drink too much too. Speaking of which…” she said getting up and walking into the house. She came out a few minutes later with a bottle of beer in hand. “I’m sure it’s beer-thirty somewhere,” she said, grinning.
“It is still morning!” Fadiyah exclaimed, shocked.
Jet looked at her phone. “No, it’s like almost noon, I’m good.”
Fadiyah shook her head. “You are so mischievous!”
“Well, there’s one I haven’t heard before…” Jet said, a wicked grin on her lips.
“What does that mean?” Fadiyah asked.
“It means you just called me something no one else has ever called me before,” she said.
“I like to be original,” Fadiyah said, folding her hands in her lap.
Jet looked back at her smiling fondly.
“Well, I’ve been taking care of myself for thirty years now, and I think I’m doing okay.”
“You are thirty?” Fadiyah asked, looking surprised.
Jet grinned. “Yeah, how old did you think I was?”
“I did not think you were that old,” Fadiyah replied.
“Ouch,” Jet said, grimacing comically.
“I did not mean any offense,” Fadiyah said. “You look younger than that.”
“You didn’t offend me, honey,” Jet said. “But how old are you?”
Fadiyah bit her lip. “I am nineteen.”
“Holy shit, really?” Jet exclaimed, then grimaced. “I’m sorry.”
“Why?” Fadiyah asked.
“I know that cussing isn’t the Shia way,” Jet said. “I’m trying to respect that.”
“But you are not Shia, so you are allowed to curse.”
“Well, trust me, I do a lot…” Jet said, rolling her eyes.
Her phone chimed then, and she reached over to pick it up. She scanned an email and then shook her head.
“Damnit…” She muttered.
“What is wrong?” Fadiyah asked.
Jet sighed, putting down her phone. “It looks like I’m going to have to work tomorrow,” she said, looking unhappy about the prospect.
“What do you do?” Fadiyah asked, realizing suddenly she didn’t know.
Jet leaned back, taking a drink of her beer and lighting another cigarette. “I’m a cop,” she said.
“A cop?” Fadiyah queried.
“A police officer,” Jet said.
“Oh,” Fadiyah said, nodding. “That is a noble profession.”
Jet gave her a lopsided grin. “Not the way I do it.”
“I do not believe it,” Fadiyah said, her tone very proper.
Jet chuckled. “I work for a task force called LA IMPACT, which stands for Los Angeles Interagency Metropolitan Police Apprehension Crime Task Force… well, here…” she said, picking up her phone, then looking back at Fadiyah. “You can read English too, right?”
“Yes,” Fadiyah said, nodding.
“Okay, read this, it’ll explain it better than I can,” Jet said, handing Fadiyah her phone.
Fadiyah read about the task force and then looked over at Jet. “Which area are you in?” she asked, looking at the different areas of expertise LA IMPACT had.
“I’m COID,” Jet said, then shook her head at herself and laughed. “I’m part of the Covert Operations and Informant Development group. I basically do for them what I did for the Army when I was in Military Intelligence.”
“And what is happening tomorrow?” Fadi
yah asked.
“Well, I need to go in because an operation I’ve been setting up for about two months now is going tomorrow.”
“Going?” Fadiyah asked.
“The sting operation,” Jet said, then rolled her eyes at herself again. “I’m sorry, I keep forgetting that I’m not talking shop with another cop. A sting is where we get the bad guy to sell us something illegal so we can arrest him for it.”
“Oh, I see,” Fadiyah nodded.
“So, want to come see where I work tomorrow?” Jet asked, her tone falsely bright.
“I would love that,” Fadiyah said, smiling.
Jet drained the last of the beer and stood up to get another. When she walked back outside with the beer in hand, Fadiyah shook her head. Jet only grinned as she sat down again.
“Don’t worry, I rarely get drunk,” she told Fadiyah.
“What are you like when you are drunk?” Fadiyah asked, curious.
Jet grinned. “Well, that would be the reason I don’t get drunk very often,” she said.
“Why?” Fadiyah asked.
“Because I’m a completely open book when I’m drunk,” Jet said.
“What does that mean?” Fadiyah asked.
“It means a person could ask me literally anything and I’d answer.”
Fadiyah looked back at her for a long moment, her look considering. “Perhaps I should allow you to drink more then.”
Jet grinned, looking surprised. “Well, trust me, honey, it takes a lot more than this.”
“How much does it take?” Fadiyah asked.
“A lot,” Jet said. “And actual hard alcohol, beer isn’t that strong, but why do you want me to get drunk? You can ask me anything you want and I’ll tell you.”
“You will?” Fadiyah asked, surprised.
“Yes,” Jet said.
“Okay,” Fadiyah said. “I keep seeing part of something there,” she said, pointing to the middle of Jet’s chest, “What is it?”
Jet lit another cigarette, a grin playing at her lips. “It’s a tattoo,” she said, with the cigarette dangling from her lips.
“Of what?” Fadiyah asked
Jet reached over, setting her cigarette in the ashtray on the table, and pulled off her tank top, revealing a black exercise bra and the medallion tattoo.
Fadiyah looked at the tattoo and immediately recognized it.
“That is a Shia symbol!” she exclaimed.
“I know, that’s why I picked it,” Jet said her tone complacent.
“But why?” Fadiyah asked, her eyes looking from the tattoo to Jet’s eyes.
“Look closely,” Jet said, putting her finger to the Arabic lettering around the edge of the medallion.
Fadiyah’s eyes widened. “That is my name!” she exclaimed. “And Abdul’s and my father’s…” Her voice trailed off as she looked back up at Jet.
Jet’s eyes were sad. “It’s all I could do when I got back to honor what you did for me.”
Fadiyah blinked a few times, tears in her eyes.
“I’m sorry if it seems a little blasphemous,” Jet said.
“No…” Fadiyah breathed. “It is incredible.”
Jet smiled sadly and stood briefly to put her tank top back on.
Fadiyah moved to take Jet’s hands in hers, her eyes staring into Jet’s. “You are the most incredible person I have ever met, Jet Mathews.”
“I’m glad you think so,” Jet said smiling, then she looked at Fadiyah, her look somber. “Fadi, what happened to Abdul?”
“He was killed a year ago,” Fadiyah said, her look sad.
“What happened?” Jet asked.
“He was playing in the street when the trucks rolled through the streets, they never even slowed down.”
“Oh my God, Fadi, I’m so sorry…” Jet said, grimacing.
Fadiyah nodded, doing her best to control her tears.
That night, Jet ordered pizza for dinner and Fadiyah thoroughly enjoyed the meal. She’d never had anything like pizza before, so it was a treat. After dinner they watched a couple of movies. Jet let Fadiyah pick the movies, so they ended up watching SWAT and Steel Magnolias, neither of which Fadiyah had ever seen, but she had liked the sound of them.
During the second movie Jet began to get tired, so when the movie ended, she suggested they get some sleep. They walked upstairs.
“Do you have anything to sleep in?” Jet asked, realizing that they hadn’t managed to go buy anything that day or before they’d left Iran.
Fadiyah shook her head.
“Hold on,” Jet said, walking into her room, and opening a couple of drawers.
She came back with an LAPD t-shirt and a pair of sweat pants.
“We can go shopping tomorrow after work to get you some more clothes,” Jet said, chagrinned that she hadn’t thought about that earlier.
“It is okay,” Fadiyah said, smiling.
“Okay, well, goodnight,” Jet said smiling.
“Masaa’al-kayhar,” Fadiyah replied.
Jet lay in her bed, staring up at the ceiling. Part of her felt relieved that finally she was able to put her past to rest. The other part of her wasn’t sure how things were going to go with Fadiyah in America, but she knew that she would protect this girl with her life. The problem was, it was likely to interfere with any woman she dated, not that she really dated women for long enough for it to matter, but it would definitely create a new barrier to relationships.
She was asleep when she heard her name called softly.
Waking up, she turned over and saw that Fadiyah was standing next to her bed.
She moved to sit up, wincing when she once again forgot her shoulder and used her left arm to lever herself up.
“Damnit…” she hissed, looking instantly contrite. “Sorry, what’s wrong Fadi?”
Fadiyah shook her head. “I cannot sleep.”
Jet gave her a concerned look, then reached her right hand out. “Come here,” she said.
Fadiyah took her hand and sat down on the bed, Jet held her arm out, and Fadiyah immediately moved to lie against her, her head against Jet’s shoulder.
Jet smiled fondly at the movement. It was becoming almost a habit now. Jet put her arm around Fadiyah’s shoulders, her hand smoothing down Fadiyah’s back rhythmically. Fadiyah rested her hand on Jet’s chest, her thumb brushing over the top of the Shia tattoo that was visible above the tank top Jet had worn to bed.
They fell asleep that way.
The next morning, Jet’s alarm went off at six o’clock. Jet groaned, feeling like she’d only just gone to sleep. Fadiyah was already awake, but she still lay with her head on Jet’s shoulder, even though Jet had moved them down into a lying position at some point during the night. Fadiyah moved to her elbows looking down at Jet who was reaching for the alarm to turn it off. She saw Jet wince because she was reaching with the arm that had the injured shoulder.
“Are you sure you should be going to work today?” Fadiyah asked.
“I gotta,” Jet said tiredly. “If I blow this sting, it’ll take months to set up again, if the guy even trusts me again.”
Fadiyah nodded, trying to understand Jet’s work. They both got up. Jet showed Fadiyah where the extra towels were and also showed her how the shower worked and where toiletries were located. There were a few comical moments where she showed Fadiyah how to use the automatic toothbrush. When Fadiyah couldn’t get the hang of it without laughing, Jet pulled out a regular toothbrush and handed it to her.
Jet showered and got dressed, putting on the clothes she usually wore when she was going to work: jeans, combat style black boots, and a black tank top. She wore her silver byzantine-style chain and black obsidian studs in her ears, and a black leather watch.
Fadiyah wore a pair of jeans and a blue cotton button up shirt that Jet had gotten for her. On her feet she wore the same black sandals she’d always worn.
“Wow,” Jet said, grinning when she Fadiyah walked into the kitchen.
“What is it?” Fad
iyah asked, looking around her.
Jet grinned. “You in jeans. They look good,” she said, smiling warmly.
“It is very strange,” Fadiyah said, touching the denim at her hips. “I feel much more constricted.”
“Yeah, that’s progress for you,” Jet said, grinning, her eyes sparkling with humor. “Do you want coffee?” she asked, holding up the pot.
Fadiyah looked hesitant.
“It’s Arabian, Damascus blend,” Jet said.
“That is too strong for me,” Fadiyah said, shaking her head.
“Well, what do you usually drink?” Jet asked, as she poured her coffee into a cup.
“Usually tea,” Fadiyah said. “It is okay.”
Jet walked over to her pantry and pulled out a pouch and a teapot. As Fadiyah stood watching, her mouth slightly agape, Jet put water in the microwave and tea leaves into the steeper inside the glass teapot. A few minutes later, Jet handed Fadiyah a cup with tea in it, and put cream and both a cinnamon stick and a bottle marked as cardamom on the counter in front of her.
Fadiyah sniffed the tea and recognized it, her silver-gray eyes widened.
“This is the kind we used at home,” Fadiyah said. “And I see you know how we drink it as well,” she said, gesturing to the things Jet had put on the counter.
“Fadi, I was in the Middle East for a long time, I know the traditions,” she said, canting her head slightly. “I thought you knew that.”
Fadiyah inclined her head. “I did not realize to what extent you knew our traditions.”
“You’ll learn,” Jet said, grinning.
Fadiyah nodded, happy that Jet seemed to be thinking long term with their friendship. It had been thoughts of being in a strange country that had kept her awake the night before. Lying in Jet’s arms had been the only thing that stilled those thoughts and fears. She knew that her position was precarious in America. She knew no one other than Jet, and Jet had a life all her own. It was a world that Fadiyah didn’t know anything about. Every moment she spent with Jet showed her how little she really knew about Jet Mathews. While she found Jet quite fascinating, she knew that she was an addition to Jet’s life, not her priority.
In Iraq she’d known her place. She had her father to look after her, and knew that at some point she would have a husband. Her life was now turned completely upside down. She knew that staying in Iraq or Iran as an unchaperoned woman would be dangerous. She’d been unable to resist the desire to not only stay with the one person left in her world, but also the chance to see America, a place she’d only ever heard of before. Being in America was going to be very different, and Fadiyah was terrified to even try to navigate it. She was eternally grateful to Jet for every little kindness. Silly things like understanding her traditions and having the kind of tea she drank, was a wonderful and very welcome comfort.
Jet Blue (WeHo Book 5) Page 17