The Widow's Keeper

by Kishan Paul

  Shariff grabbed a nearby metal pail and dropped it into the mouth of the well. The child craned his neck, searching for the source of the splash. His uncle held the rope connected to the pail out for him. “Want to pull?”

  Reluctantly, she let the squirming boy climb out of her arms and onto his feet. He grabbed the tightly wound cord. Unsure of the man’s plans, she kept a firm grip on the child’s shirt.

  “This spot used to be one of my favorites when I was young.” Shariff poured the pail of water onto the ground. An elated Aadam stretched his sandaled foot into the stream and stomped in the puddle.

  Ally edged closer to Shariff and whispered, “He’s done nothing wrong.”

  “Neither did I.” He tossed the pail back into the well and began to pull up another bucket full of water.

  “You’re still alive. He won’t be.”

  Shariff poured the contents of the pail down in a steady stream. Aadam ran out of her grasp and positioned himself under the falling liquid, drenching himself. His uncle laughed at the happy but wet child. “Who knows? He may prefer death. There were many times I wished for it.”

  Her muscles tense, she watched the child’s every move. “Why now? If this was your plan, why didn’t you reclaim your things when Sayeed was alive?”

  Shariff put the pail on the ground and shook his head at the wet, giggling child. “I’m always late. It’s one of my character flaws.”

  The child pulled at the shirt glued to his skin and begged his uncle to do it again.

  “His father’s dead. You can’t punish a dead man.”

  Aadam picked up the empty bucket and turned it over onto his head. Squeals echoed from under the container.

  “Who said it’s a dead man I’m trying to punish?”

  She nodded her understanding. “You’re punishing your father?”

  Shariff didn’t respond. He took the bucket off the child and picked him up. “Stubbornness, by the way, is my other flaw. Once I make up my mind, it’s hard to convince me otherwise. Come, let’s get him back home. He’s all wet. We wouldn’t want him to die from a cold.” He winked.

  As they walked back down the road to the house, Ally thought about Alyah and Wassim’s secret, wondering if the truth might save them all. “What if he’s not Sayeed’s? Wouldn’t that be punishment enough?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Making up lies will not change anything. My father believes this is his beloved son’s child. Nothing and no one on this planet will change his mind.”

  The child wiped his wet face against Shariff’s shirt and pointed up to the sky while he talked about airplanes to his uncle.

  “He could be Wassim’s. For all we know, he could have been conceived shortly after Sayeed died. Have you had him tested?”

  “Getting desperate, are we?” Shariff moved the long, wet curls out of Aadam’s face and pulled at one of the ringlets. “We have the same hair and the same interests. Watch.” He looked into the child’s eyes and grinned. “Tell Sara Mommy what sound airplanes make,” he said in Urdu.

  The child beamed and waved his hand in the air, making engine sounds. Shariff laughed. “See, we both love planes. What more proof do you need?”

  It was exactly what she worried would happen. He looked too much like Sayeed for them to question his paternity. Her eyes burned. “None of what happened was his fault.”

  “We all pay the price for our family’s actions, don’t we?” Shariff’s face darkened. He took in the house looming ahead. “You know the old saying about the sins of the father.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  TWO HUNDRED SECONDS

  The tension in Ally’s body eased the moment she walked into her room and locked it. She leaned against the door and rubbed the throbbing of her temples while she processed the conversation with Shariff.

  He wasn’t like his big brother. Sayeed had one motivation: power. Shariff’s obsession was more complicated. He wanted to fix the hand dealt by his family. He was right; it wasn’t about a house. His desire centered on punishing his father for choosing Sayeed over him. Which, in his twisted brain, meant killing the old man and everyone involved, including Aadam. For all their sakes, she needed to convince him it would never ease his pain, only make it worse.

  She sat on the corner of her bed. But there was another layer. Abandoned by his family at an early age and left to grow up in an institution, a part of him still hungered for a familial connection. It explained why he possessively called her “his bhaabi” every chance he got. Even the hand holding he did. She was his.

  From the corner of her eye, a dark shadow moved. When she looked up, Ally stared into the hungry gaze of a man standing in her bathroom. Her heart leaped to her throat as the guard from the hallway stepped into her room. A large mole covered his right temple and his thick beard stretched when he grinned.

  She rose and stood tall, trying to hide the tremors rocking her. “How did you get in here?”

  He didn’t answer.

  When he took another step, Ally inched toward the door. She knew the expression on his face, had seen it a hundred times before in Sayeed’s. It wasn’t just lust; it was an angry hunger. One he believed only she could quench. She ran for the exit, but he stepped ahead, blocking it with his body.

  He grinned, waving his long fingers at her, beckoning her. “Please, run to me. I want you to pull me away from the door. I think I would like that.”

  She stepped back, pointing at the entrance behind him. “Go.” It was a simple word. One most people around the world understood. “Go!” she yelled a second time.

  When he lunged at her, Ally jumped out of his reach and tripped over the foot of the bed, falling on the floor.

  “You are a bold one, aren’t you?” His grin widened. “How bold will you be underneath me?”

  She slid backward toward the patio as he approached. He was a tall man. His long arms stretched out in anticipation of her attempts to escape. He pointed to her with his index finger and flicked the digit up. “Take your shirt off. I want to see what you showed Shariff earlier today.”

  Ally climbed to her feet, her back to the door. Her heart thudded an erratic beat as she felt for the knob. “Go, and I will not tell Wassim you ever came here.” She unlocked it and twisted the handle while keeping her attention on the man in front of her.

  He laughed and shook his head. “I don’t understand you, but if you are threatening to tell Wassim, don’t worry. He sends his love.”

  She turned and opened the door at the same time. Before she could run out into the balcony, he slammed his body into hers, shoving her face first against the wooden surface. The entrance rammed shut from the force of him, and the knob dug into her groin, leaving her breathless.

  Ally put her palms on the flat surface and pushed off only to have him grind harder into her. The door’s brass handle stabbed into her side and she cried out in pain.

  With his hips, he secured her midsection in place and grabbed her wrists. Fire coursed through her shoulder blades when he yanked her arms over her head and restrained her two hands with one of his.

  “Let me go!” she screamed as she slammed her head back, trying to make contact with his.

  A salty hand slapped across her face, covering her mouth and pulling her neck back until her head rested on his shoulder.

  “You enjoy spending time alone with Shariff in this room.” The sharp bristles of his beard pierced into her skin when he kissed her neck. The mix of scotch and cigarettes on his breath suffocated her. “In your bed.” He continued to press his lips against her while he spoke. “Going for walks alone with him.”

  She kicked backward while she tried to bite into his palm. In return, he dug his fingers into her cheeks. Pain coursed through her jaw, making her ears ring.

  “I hope you fight me like this the whole time.” His beard scraped her cheek as he spoke.

  She twisted her body, trying to free herself of his grasp. He shoved his hips harder into hers, his arousal digging into her ba
ck. “This evening when you were outside, the sunlight went through your shirt. I liked what I saw.”

  Hot tears fell from her eyes when he sucked on her neck. Not again. The words screamed on repeat in her mind. A sob escaped her lips. Restrained and held against her will. Yes, it would happen again. A loud crack resonated through the room. A second later, the guard’s grasp on her loosened until finally he released her.

  Ally’s legs buckled and she fell to her knees. She looked up and gasped when her gaze landed on Eddie. He stood with an arm wrapped around the man’s chest and the other around his head. The guard’s body sat limp in his grasp, his lifeless eyes wide.

  Ally climbed up on unsteady legs as terror rocked her, watching Eddie lay the man on the floor.

  “Look away.” He ordered while he took his sandals off. He tossed them at the closet and then proceeded to take off his shirt and pants until he wore nothing but white briefs. He reached for a metal rod lying across her bed.

  Unable to speak, Ally gasped for air and leaned against the wall for support.

  He raised the rod over his shoulder and stared at her. “You need to close your eyes,” he whispered.

  She couldn’t move, couldn’t think. The realization of what almost happened sent wave after painful wave of hysteria coursing through her.

  “Alisha, close your eyes. Now,” he growled.

  She nodded and turned her face, shuttering her lids. The thud of metal slamming into flesh and bone filled the space. Bones crunched and cracked over and over. Every now and then, the pipe echoed when it hit tile. Mingled in with the sounds was the metallic smell of blood, which filled her nostrils. The warmth of the liquid seeping between her toes burned her skin. Ally swallowed down the rising bile and covered her ears to block it all out. Long after the noises ceased, her body continued to tremble.

  Something warm splattered against her neck. She took her hands away from her ears and opened her eyes. Eddie stood in front of her, shaking his blood-soaked hand at her, coloring her clothes and skin with spots of red. She stared at him, avoiding the body crumpled a few feet away.

  He handed the wet pipe to her, “Take this.” She gripped the handle, still warm from his touch, and pointed it out in front of her. Tiny strands of black and gray curls were glued in the thick red fluid flowing down the pipe and covering her hands. Nausea filled her.

  “Count to two hundred and then scream for help.”

  She lowered the pipe so the blood would flow to the ground and rested her back against the wall behind her while the room spun around her.

  “Look at me.”

  Ally stared into his hazel gaze. “I need you to listen,” he said slowly.

  She nodded.

  Eddie grabbed his shirt from the bed and wiped all remnants of the man off his face, neck, and hands onto the fabric. “After you’re done counting, you will unlock that door, and scream until people show up. Okay?”

  Ally nodded again.

  He took the wadded fabric and proceeded to clean the rest of his body. “You killed him, understood?”

  Eddie lifted his leg from the puddle and wiped it and his foot down. “He was in here waiting for you and you told him to leave. He pushed you in and locked the door.” He then worked on the other leg. “You grabbed the rod and defended yourself.” He put on his pants, slid on his clean sandals, and stared at her, waiting for her to respond.

  Ally continued to nod.

  He opened the far door to her closet and tossed the balled-up clothes inside. “You found the rod in the guest bathroom, and you took it and kept it hidden under your bed just in case.”

  Eddie hesitated at the closet door and looked her over. “What did I say?”

  “I killed him. I hit him on the head with the rod and killed him.”

  This time Eddie nodded. “And I wasn’t here.”

  When she hugged her waist with her free hand, more of the man’s blood smeared against her red shirt, soaking into her skin. “You weren’t here.”

  By the time Ally looked back up, he was gone and she was alone. For the next two hundred seconds, she stood beside the crushed remains of a dead man. When she got to the magic number, she finally looked at the remains on the floor and screamed.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS

  For the past hour, Ally sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor by the patio. Spotless. As were the walls and the sheets. The old curtains on the back door were ripped away and replaced with fresh ones. Even she was clean. And yet, the warmth of his blood burned her skin. The smell of his death lingered in every breath she took.

  If she stared at the spot by the patio hard enough, she could still see him, flat on his back, blood and matter flowing from the gashes in what was once his head. She blinked away the image and crawled to the corner of the room beside the closet. Curling into a ball, she huddled on the floor, her back pressed into the corner, working on taking slow deep breaths. Ally forced her lids to stay closed but the images continued to consume her.

  She hugged her knees, waiting for sleep to arrive and provide much-needed respite. But it refused to answer her calls, possibly because she couldn’t stop glancing over at the spot, waiting for the dead man to return. At some point, exhaustion finally won, lulling her to sleep. When she did, she found she was right; he did return—in her dreams, and this time he was not alone. The man carried the metal rod covered in his blood, and behind him, Sayeed watched, nodding his approval.

  Before the weapon slammed into her head, Ally popped her lids open and jumped to her knees. She slapped the air, fighting away the imaginary danger. She blinked a few more times before finally allowing herself to breathe.

  The only sound in the room was her gasping for air. Ally sat on her haunches and rested her damp face in her hands. “It’s just a dream,” she whispered.

  She worked on calming herself, only to suck in a breath when a shadow moved in the room. Ally froze. Her head still in her palms, she peered at the white marble around her, until her gaze landed on the jean-clad legs of the man kneeling in front of her. Her nails dug into her skin as she considered her options. The rod wasn’t in the room anymore. They’d taken it when they cleaned up. She thought about the padlock she’d fastened to her door. A guard had handed it to her after they cleaned the room. Considering it fastened from the inside, there was no way anyone could have unlocked it. Which meant…

  “It’s me,” Eddie whispered.

  She released the breath she held at the sound of his voice. Ally took her hands off her face and slid back to her corner on the floor, hugging her arms around her knees. “How did you get here?”

  “Through the closet.” He sat back on his haunches and stared her down. “Are you okay?”

  Uncontrollable tremors rocked her body. She grit her teeth and nodded. “Yes.”

  He eyed her, clearly not believing her answer.

  She put up her hand. “I’m fine. Just give me a moment. This is the first time I’ve felt safe since everything happened. I think it’s all hitting me at once.” Her voice shook as much as her body.

  He pressed his fingers against the bruises below her hands. “I noticed these when you showed up at the door yesterday. What happened?”

  Ally stared down at the red welts around her wrists. “Shariff handcuffed me in the car.”

  Eddie’s eyes darkened.

  “Tell me how you ended up here while I work on my breathing.” She sucked in a breath and began counting.

  He nodded his understanding. “I have a contact in Kabul who works for Sayeed’s father. After Farah disappeared, I reached out to him. He told me something was going down. Said the old man was preparing to come to Karachi. Breathe out now.”

  She nodded, blew, and continued her slow repetitions, allowing his voice to calm her.

  “He hadn’t left the country in over a decade, so clearly whatever it was, was a big deal. One he needed an English-speaking translator for. Apparently, he was also getting the hou
se prepped for a new resident, a child.” He rose and grabbed the blanket from the bed, draping it around Ally’s shoulders as he talked. “After I took care of the guy he hired, I stepped in.”

  Her body finally calm, she wrapped the fabric tight around her and thought of Aadam. His grandfather planned to steal him away, and his uncle planned to kill him. Somehow, she needed to help the child.

  Eddie slid down beside her and rested his arms on his bent knees. “Better?”

  She nodded. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me yet. You’re still in danger.”

  “What are we going to do?”

  He leaned his back against the wall. “I’m going to get you out of here tonight while it’s still dark.”

  “No.”

  Eddie continued on as if he didn’t hear her. “There’s a spot in the back of the yard where you can safely climb over the fence.”

  Ally reached out and squeezed his hand. “I’m not leaving.”

  Silence filled the room. His fingers flexed into a fist under her grasp.

  She let go and tried to explain. “I am the reason he kidnapped Farah and Amirah. And I am the reason he killed Amir and David. He needed to lure me here. Your sister and the baby are his guarantee that I will stay and comply. If you want me to leave, you need to find them and get them to safety.”

  Eddie turned his focus on her. He clenched his teeth so hard the muscle along his jaw flexed. “What the fuck do you think I’ve been trying to do this entire time?” he hissed.

  “I know you have.” Ally grabbed his hand a second time and squeezed. “It’s the only reason you’re here, and it must be killing you that you haven’t found them.”

  He didn’t respond, but the muscles in his hand relaxed. His thumb rubbed against her injured wrist.