“My son’s name has been vilified in your country and in Britain. Oh, eventually, he was cleared, but not before unbelievable things were said in the press and by the military.”
“What happened? Tell me.” Harley put a gentle hand on his arm and led him to the couch. His pain was rending her heart in two. Harley pushed back tears. She’d confronted him, expecting his righteous anger. Instead, she’d shattered him. Pressing back her own tears, she closed her eyes and sat beside him.
“My son was a doctor with a British garrison in Iraq.” The man’s attempt at control suddenly broke. His whole body was racked with sobs, and his breathing was labored.
Harley dashed into the kitchen, reached into a cabinet for a bottle of whiskey and tumbler, and quickly poured a liberal dose. She was at his side in a second, pressing the drink to his lips. “It’s okay. It’s okay.” Her voice grew soft. “This can wait.” She cursed her own insensitivity and realized how much his grief pained her.
“No, no, you’re right. You should have known the truth a long time ago.” Abisi wiped his face with the palms of both hands and downed the whiskey. “My son’s unit was stationed near a village rumored to contain a lot of insurgents. Jordan went into the villages to treat people. When his own men didn’t need him, he wanted to help others. God knows I instilled that in him.” He stared ahead and drifted. “I was so proud of him when he went to medical school in Edinburgh. Maureen was so proud, too.”
Harley nodded. She made her way into the kitchen and returned with another whiskey. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“I loved my children. Even when Maureen and I were obviously doomed, I loved Jordan and Jessica with all my heart. I remember when Jordan was born. Our firstborn, a son. It had been a difficult birth, and I was afraid that Maureen or the baby would die. He was very small and helpless. The doctors in London told us he might not make it. I’m not a praying man, but I prayed that night.” He sipped the whiskey slowly. “Jordan was tough. He did make it, and when he went to medical school, I was thrilled. He said there was nothing more he wanted than to be like me.” Abisi smiled ruefully.
“You don’t have to go on.” Harley realized that no matter how much she might want to know the full story behind Jordan’s death, she couldn’t see Abisi hurting. She blinked away the tears threatening to fall from her eyes.
“Yes, yes, I do.” He looked at his hands and then at her. “I’ve never really spoken about this to anyone. Maybe that’s what happened to finally doom Maureen and me. The silence of her condemnation was deafening. Neither of us could talk about how we felt.” Abisi reached for Harley’s hand, and she didn’t pull away. “He volunteered to join the military. He really believed what the Allied troops were doing over there. I didn’t. I tried to dissuade him, but he said he could make a difference. He was a surgeon, a damned good one. Of course, his British grandfather railed against the idea. After all, he could get him into the best hospitals in the UK. I agreed, but my pleas and Maureen’s fell on deaf ears. Maureen and I barely communicated, except about the children. She thought I didn’t try hard enough to keep him out of uniform.”
“Your son was a grown man, not a child. You couldn’t run his life.” Harley gently massaged his arm.
“I wish to hell I had.” His voice was hard, bitter. “Maybe if I’d been more autocratic my child would still be alive.”
Harley nodded and fell silent. She hadn’t wanted John to join the military, either, but he’d insisted that he would be able to pay for his second degree that way. He didn’t want her working second jobs so that he could attend graduate school. Harley understood Abisi’s pain and guilt. She’d often cursed herself for not insisting she put John through school.
Abisi swallowed. “While Jordan was helping people in a village, there was an Allied air strike of the village. My son died while he was helping others. He didn’t ask who was or was not an insurgent. Many of the people needed help. Many women and children, civilians. He never asked their creed.” Tears streamed down his face. “He was killed in the bombing, but he came under suspicion by the Allied Command. Some officials tried to say he was helping insurgents and that he was a sympathizer.”
Harley stared ahead but squeezed his hand hard.
“My son was no terrorist, Harley. He was an honorable man who wanted to help other people, but he had an Egyptian last name. The Americans were the first to point fingers. They brought their suspicions to the British. My son was cleared in an inquiry, but not before our family was wracked by the scandal. It tore Maureen apart. Jessica was mourning her brother and had to endure scandal at Oxford. My children were looked at like Muslim extremists.” He laughed bitterly. “Hell, they’d been baptized Anglicans. They weren’t even Muslims.” He drew in a breath. “What little was left in my marriage died with Jordan. That’s when I decided to settle permanently here.”
“I’m sorry I made you relive something so painful.” Harley wiped the stray tear rolling down her cheek.
“No, you were right to ask. I’m only sorry I didn’t say something first before that woman did.” He touched her cheek lightly, tracing the path of her tears.
“Did you tell Kimberly about this?” Harley fought a surge of jealousy. She didn’t like that he’d shared any intimate information with Kimberly before he’d shared it with her.
“No, I didn’t.” He cupped her face in his hands. “Kimberly delved into my life when we were seeing each other. She found things on the Internet. She wanted to own me.”
“I see.” Harley gazed at the floor, shamed by her jealousy. “I hadn’t meant to pry.”
“No, you wanted to know.” He gazed at her. “You wanted to know because of John. You loved him. I understand that.”
Floodgates of loss cascaded over Harley. Her voice came out as one long sob. “I was only able to bury bits of him. He was so destroyed that—” She swallowed hard. Her voice shook. “I closed the coffin. They draped the flag over it.”
Abisi slipped an arm around her. She collapsed against him, sobbing.
“We’ve both lost so much, my Harley.” He kissed her with a lingering passion and drew her close.
Harley threw her arms around his neck and returned his kisses with a hungry desire. She moaned softly as his hands cupped her breasts in his hands and then ran her tongue along his neck until she found his lips. He slipped her blouse over her head and unhooked her bra with little effort. He stared at her with undisguised admiration and buried his face in her neck, whispering, “Never leave me, Harley.” She unbuttoned his shirt, running her lips along his chest and then making her way to his belt. She unhooked it with ease as he unbuttoned her pants. Within a few minutes, they were naked. He lifted her in his arms and made his way to the bedroom. Her legs locked around his waist as her arms closed around his neck.
Abisi deposited her on the bed, kissing her arms and legs with insatiable abandon. Harley groaned with rising desire as he sucked on her taut breasts. Warm liquid exploded inside her belly, sending shivers of hot delight through her body. Abisi let his lips linger along her flat stomach as white-hot surges of electricity made her limp. Harley clutched his shoulders tightly, drawing him down to her as her body gave way to every primal instinct within her being. She emitted a scream of unmitigated delight as the hot, erupting lava of his love spread through her insides.
The next morning, Harley awoke to the aroma of coffee and the alluring odor of fresh toast. When her arm fell on an empty pillow, she sat bolt upright, remembering their passionate night. She pulled on a T-shirt and shorts, making her way to the kitchen. Abisi was in the kitchen, applying butter to the toast. He smiled at her. He’d donned his pants but remained shirtless. She moved behind him, slipping her arms around his back. She gazed at his back. A hurricane tattoo now graced his other shoulder blade. Above it were etched the words H-A-R-L-E-Y. When had he added that body art? Harley giggle
d and kissed his back. He turned to her, wrapping her in his arms. “Would you like a repeat of last night?”
Harley traced the tattoo lightly with her fingertips and smiled into his face. “Why is my name over a hurricane design?”
“You, my darling, have created a hurricane within my soul. You’ve upset my very complacent life, and I like it.” Abisi cupped Harley’s face in his hands and kissed her lips until her body melted into his, breakfast forgotten.
Chapter 13
“I don’t want this woman bothering us again.” Harley looked from Carville St. James to his partner Joe Allen. A day had passed since Kimberly’s call, and she and Abisi had filed a restraining order against her.
Abisi slipped his hand into hers. He and Harley were sitting on the couch, facing the two police officers. The police sat on chairs across from them.
Carville cleared his throat. “Well, you filled out the paperwork, but there’s a problem.”
Harley’s gaze widened. “What kind of problem?”
“Yes, ma’am, that’s right.” Joe Allen ran a hand over his balding head. “When we went to serve her, we couldn’t find the lady.”
Abisi’s hand tightened around Harley’s. “You mean she wasn’t home?”
“She’s never come home.” Carville gazed at Harley. “Joe and I are here to let you know we will pass outside the house more often to see that you’re okay. We have an APB out on her, but nobody’s seen her. She hasn’t shown up at her job, either.” He paused and frowned, “But I think you both need to be careful, really careful. It turns out this woman has had trouble in the past.”
“What kind of trouble?” Abisi stared at them.
Joe grunted. “Her ex-husband took out an order like you folks have. She apparently poured acid over his car one day.”
“She slashed my tires.” Waves of ice swept through Harley’s body. She shivered and leaned against Abisi.
“Now, you know that we will pass more often.” Carville smiled at her. “That’s a promise. My grandma is also watching this house, but like I said, you need to be careful.”
Harley nodded, smiled at the officers, and showed them out. She called after Carville. “Tell your grandmother I’m going to send her some of my cabbage.”
“Maybe you should move in with me.” Abisi enclosed her in his arms and planted a kiss on her lips.
Harley shook her head. “Nico, remember?”
“Nico can come with you.” Abisi let his lips linger along her face. “I’m developing a real affection for him.”
“She’ll just come after you then.” Harley bit her lower lip. She felt cold despite the warmth of his arms. “I’m not safe, and I won’t put you in danger.”
“We’re both in danger, anyway.” Abisi drew her closer. “Besides, it’s time I supported you. You’re not working.”
“Hey, I like being a bum. Nico and I sit around like old people. I write all day, and he sits at my feet.” As if to agree, Nico moved between them, gazing from one to the other while thumping his tail on the ground.
“Well, I’ll be calling you all the time when I’m not with you. The woman scares me, and I don’t like the thought of you being unprotected.” He cupped her face in his hands.
“I’ll be fine.” Harley feigned a lightness she didn’t feel. Then, a feeling of mischievous delight washed over her. “Besides, I need to start my next book. It’s about a psycho girlfriend.” She led him to her bedroom, her fingers locked in his.
“You’re joking, right?” Abisi laughed as he nibbled on her neck.
Abisi arrived home late the next day. He’d spent his late afternoon at a clinic when he’d left the hospital and was bone tired. He pulled into his driveway, anticipating a cold beer and hot shower. After the shower, he’d call Harley. As long as Kimberly’s whereabouts remained unknown, Abisi worried about Harley’s welfare. She was too stubborn and independent to move in with him. Well, he may just have to marry her. The prospect pleased him, but he was surprised by the direction of his own thoughts. His marriage to Maureen had been devastating and draining, but maybe marriage in the later years to a woman who accepted him as he was would bring him peace.
Abisi peeled his shirt off when he entered his bathroom and threw it in the clothes hamper. He made his way to the kitchen and took a beer from the refrigerator. It was then that he heard the shattering glass. Racing upstairs to the spare bedroom, he saw the inferno quickly engulfing the second story of his house. Someone had broken the window with a brick and then tossed a burning torch through the gaping hole. The odor of gasoline wafted toward his nostrils as he tried to fight the blaze spreading from his curtains to the wall and ceiling. He grasped a blanket from the bed and began beating the flames but to no avail.
Abisi began to choke as the smoke coiled around him. He beat at the flames and then retreated to his own bedroom. Frantically, he searched his closet for the few things he knew he could save.
Harley sat on her front porch with Nico at her side. He lay sprawled on her feet and gazed at her while she read the latest novel by James Lee Burke. Several neighborhood boys tossed a football to each other or whizzed by on skateboards. Harley sipped an iced tea and lost herself in Burke’s depiction of the South Louisiana landscape.
Jose, one of the neighborhood boys, ran up the steps of her porch. The boy was ten with dark skin and a mischievous grin, but he gazed at her now with large, dark eyes and gasped for breath. “You know Dr. Sharif, si?”
Harley closed her book and placed it at her side. She nodded. “Si, what’s wrong, Jose?”
Many of the neighborhood kids knew Abisi from the clinic and from the hospital. He only lived a few blocks away, and Harley had expected his call at any time. Since Kimberly had disappeared from the radar, Abisi called her sometimes four times a day. She didn’t expect him because he’d worked late, but she’d anticipated a call any moment.
Jose shifted from one foot to the other. “The house, Ms. Harley, it’s—”
Something was terribly wrong. Her heart almost stopped. “What’s happened to Dr. Sharif?”
The boy pointed in the direction of Abisi’s house. “A fire, Senora. The whole casa’s in flames. The doctor—” The boy stopped when the roar of a siren blasted the peace of the evening.
“Did you see Dr. Sharif? Was he in the house?”
“I don’t know, Senora.”
Harley raced from the porch like a marathon runner, Nico behind her. Her feet pounded the pavement, and her heart raced within her breast. She ran the whole way, finally rounding the corner to Abisi’s house. A fire engine was pulling into the street as she ran up the step. Nico was still at her heels. She rubbed his ears. “Get Donna and Mike.” They, too, lived a block away. The dog gazed at her doubtfully and tried to pull her away, nudging her with his nose and tugging on her pants with his teeth. “Go, Nico, I mean it!”
Nico glanced back at her as he ran in the direction of Donna’s house. Harley heard the firefighters yell for her to leave the premises. She heard Jose and his friends calling to her to come back, but she listened to none of them. Abisi was possibly hurt or suffocating inside that house, and Harley was determined to save him. She’d been too far away to save John. She wasn’t going to let another man she loved die. Pulling her blouse over her head, Harley held it over her nose and raced into the flames. She ran through every room. He wasn’t downstairs.
Her heart pounding like an anvil on iron, Harley headed toward the stairs. The familiar tightness gripped her chest. Only pure adrenalin kept her legs moving under her body. She was shaking and praying that she wouldn’t pass out. Harley realized with wrenching certainty that she’d sell her soul to save him or die trying. She wouldn’t leave the house without him.
Abisi had retrieved the photo albums containing his children’s pictures and jumped from the second story into
a hedge immediately below the window. He cursed the day he’d ever met Kimberly Cheramie, but he had the memories of his children tucked safely under his arm. He prayed the witch would pay for destroying his home, but anything in it could be replaced. He’d heard the trucks. Maybe the house could be rebuilt. The pictures he had of Jordan and Jessica could not be recaptured, and luckily, he held them tight against his heart. Besides, he knew Harley would open her home to him if he were homeless. He would take care of her. Maybe he would even convince her to marry him. She was a traditionalist and would marry a man rather than live with him. Of that, Abisi was certain.
Abisi emerged from his clumsy jump with nothing lost but his dignity. Suddenly, he saw two small boys racing toward him. He recognized them from the clinic. One boy, eyes almost bulging from his head, exclaimed, “La Senora Harley ran inside the house.”
He dropped the photo albums and clutched the boy’s shoulders. “What are you saying, son?”
“La Senora thought you were inside. She ran in, too.”
“Sweet God!” Abisi sprinted toward the house and up the porch steps.
A brawny fire fighter placed a retraining hand on his shoulder. “Sir, you can’t go in there.”
“A woman’s in there!” Abisi threw off the man’s arm, but the other man only clamped on tighter.
“Once we have this under control, we’ll go in—”
Abisi hit him with a firm right hook to the jaw and ran inside.
The house was a cauldron of smoke and flame. Lifting an arm over his nose and mouth, Abisi ran through the house, searching for Harley. He found her upstairs. She was about to enter the room where the fire had started. He grabbed her arm. She turned a disoriented gaze on him. Her blouse dangled from her hand. She was only in her bra and jeans. Without ceremony, he threw her over his shoulder and headed downstairs.
The Doctor and the War Widow Page 14