Nightingale

by Andrea Bramhall

  “I’m not keen on that option,” Kenzie said as she walked toward them, pushing Yasar and the driver in front of her. “I’ve got another option for you.”

  “What’s that?” Charlie looked at Hazaar’s pale face. “And it better be quick, because we don’t have much time. We need to get out of here and get Hazaar and Afia to a hospital.”

  “We could take them back to Peshawar and let them go.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” Al shouted.

  “He killed his father—”

  “Hear me out. I just need a second. Mr. Siddiqi here is now the head of a rather large drug cartel operating through Pakistan and Afghanistan and smuggling his wares into the UK. I say we let him continue and pass on the information we have to the relevant people who may be interested in his little operation. His cooperation will help to put a number of terrorists, drug smugglers, and other criminal types behind bars and means he’s no longer our problem. We can walk away knowing we have him over a barrel, a lot of other bad guys are going to be brought to justice, and that no one is going to prosecute us.”

  “You’ll be signing my death warrant,” Yasar said.

  “I kinda think you did that yourself when you beat daddy dearest to a pulp back there.” He pulled at his cuffs, obviously wanting to get to Kenzie, but Al held him in place.

  “Kenzie, I take it you have a number to call?”

  “I can do it while we drive.”

  “You’re a fucking genius.” Luke held his hand up to high five her.

  “I do believe you’re right.” Kenzie blew on her nails and buffed them against her shirt.

  “Enough of the love fest. Can we get moving now?” Charlie was anxious to be under way. They had at least an hour’s drive to the hospital.

  “No worries. Kenzie, I want you to drive to the hospital with Hazaar, Charlie, Amira, and the child. When you have an address for me to drop these scumbags at, let me know.”

  “Got it.”

  “Luke, help her drop the backseat. We need to keep Hazaar as comfortable as possible while they drive. She’s going to be heading into shock, if she isn’t already. Get Amira in the front with the baby. Charlie, can you sit in the back with Hazaar? It’s not going to be comfortable, and you’re injured too.”

  “I’ll be fine. Just get us out of here.”

  She leaned forward and gently kissed Hazaar’s forehead. It’s gonna be okay now, baby. It’ll all be okay.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Pakistan, today

  Charlie cradled her hand to her chest and tried to block out the pain. She forced herself not to look at the clock, knowing it had only been a few minutes since the last time she’d looked and that there was still far too long to wait till she could get some more pain relief.

  “Knock, knock.” Kenzie opened the door to her room and dropped onto the end of Charlie’s bed. “You’re so gonna love me.”

  Charlie sighed. “Yeah, and why’s that?”

  She pulled a pair of scissors and a comb out of her pocket. “’Cos I’m gonna fix you up and make you all pretty again.” She snapped the scissors open and closed. “Let’s get you in a chair and tidy that mop of yours up a bit.”

  “Kenzie, don’t be ridiculous.”

  “This is deadly serious. We need to get you ready for your big date.” Kenzie swung Charlie’s feet off the bed and tugged her until she was sitting in a chair. Charlie didn’t argue because every miniscule movement released a throbbing ache in her hands. The burn specialist assured her that this was a good thing and that it meant the nerves were repairing and the skin was healing. As far as Charlie was concerned, it was a fucking nightmare.

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “She’s awake. Hazaar is awake.”

  “You said that yesterday.”

  “Yeah, but now she’s awake properly. She’s talking, well, kinda croaking, from what I heard the nurse say. The smoke probably did that, so it should get better pretty soon. The doctors are running a shit load of tests, so we’ll just have to wait and see. But you may be able to see her soon, and you shouldn’t look like you got into a fight with a fireplace.”

  It had been four days since they’d come into the hospital, and they were being well cared for. Afia was being treated for an infection in her lungs caused by the smoke inhalation, but Amira was with her most of the time, and she seemed fairly settled. Charlie had been told that her hand would heal and didn’t require skin grafts, and that her hair had burnt, but her scalp was okay. She didn’t care. It was Hazaar they were all worried about.

  They had taken her into surgery as soon as they had arrived at the hospital, and the medical staff had been able to tell them very little about her condition, mostly because it would take time to see how Hazaar would recover from the hypothermia and burns to her foot. The wounds to her right side, back, shoulder, and head were superficial and would heal fully in time, and, like Charlie, her hair had fried, but her scalp was okay.

  Her broken fingers had been reset and the nerves in one hand repaired. Again, only time would tell if she would regain full function or not. Between the anaesthetic wearing off, the pain medication they administered constantly, and pure exhaustion, Charlie had yet to see Hazaar open her eyes, even though she sat by her side for as long as they would allow, every day.

  Kenzie ran the comb over her head and started to even out the shaggy mess.

  “Look, I really don’t care about my hair. If she’s awake, I want to see her.”

  “Well, since the doctors are with her right now, and that isn’t possible, why not let me do this and then we can head over there?” She cut off a shank and dropped it to the floor. “See if we can’t put a smile on that sour puss of yours.”

  “I’m in pain, you know.”

  “Yeah, yeah. You are a fucking pain, that’s what I know.”

  She settled in her chair and smiled for the first time in days. Hazaar was awake. She was going to see her, talk to her, touch her. My Hazaar, my love. She couldn’t block out the memories any longer so she let them come, and the tears fell alongside her shorn hair. She remembered Christmas morning, waking up in Hazaar’s arms, sitting beside her at the piano, and making dinner together in the apartment. She saw Hazaar’s face smiling, laughing, and crying, every emotion playing across those beautiful features as they had lived their lives together. And the last time she had seen her at their graduation, with that endless sadness in her eyes. My Hazaar.

  It occurred to her that maybe Hazaar didn’t remember their life together the way she had. Maybe it wasn’t a life she wanted to go back to. The doubts crept in and burrowed into her heart. What if Hazaar didn’t want a life with Charlie after all? Was she really going to walk into Hazaar’s room and just say “Hey, it’s me. How’re you doing? Let’s pick up where we left off, shall we?” She laughed at herself. This was Hazaar. Her Hazaar, her nightingale, the woman she had waited and searched for. The woman she had dreamed of, and in the depths of the long, lonely nights, she was the woman Charlie had prayed for. And now, she was going to see her again, to talk to her. Would Hazaar still see the woman, the girl, she had been, the one she’d loved?

  When Kenzie finished, she wheeled her through the hospital and into Hazaar’s room. “I’ll leave you to it. Just buzz when you’re ready to go.”

  “Thanks.” She heard the door close and slowly stood up.

  Hazaar’s eyes were closed. The thin cannula under her nose provided humidified oxygen to help her breath more easily. Bandages covered most of her body, and wires trailed to a heart monitor beside the bed. And sleeping beside her, curled against her body, was Afia. Charlie saw for the first time that the woman in the bed wasn’t her Hazaar. Instead of being the woman Charlie had dreamed about, she was a woman who had lived through a nightmare. She was mother to a little girl, had been someone’s wife, and lived a life Charlie didn’t even want to imagine while they’d been apart.

  “Charlie.” Hazaar’s voice was scratc
hy and hoarse, so different from the voice she remembered, the voice that had whispered intimately to her in the dead of night as they loved each other. “It’s so good to see you.”

  “It’s good to see you too.”

  Anger at the time stolen from them began to filter into the fear that bubbled in her belly, and the acid bile of resentment grew stronger as she realized exactly how much they had missed. And that life would never be what she had wanted it to be.

  “You got hurt.”

  Charlie waved her uninjured hand. “It’s nothing. Just a little burn that’ll heal in no time.”

  “I can’t believe you’re here.” Hazaar’s voice cracked. “I’ve dreamed of seeing you again since Loch Ness. All I ever wanted was to be with you again, and now you’re here. In Pakistan. How? Why? I’m sorry. I’m getting ahead of myself. I missed you so much, Charlie. So much.” She lifted her hand and groaned. “Damn it, I wish I could touch you. I want to make sure you’re real.”

  Charlie looked away. It was a foolish, childish mistake to think that she could get Hazaar back and everything would be like it had been before. Neither of them were the women they had been before they graduated. She stared at the little girl. Afia. Her name is Afia, and she’s Hazaar’s daughter. The child Hazaar gave birth to, that grew inside her because of Yasar. Jealousy added its distinctive flavour to the bile in her gut, and she knew it was going to eat her alive.

  “I should let you get some sleep.” She reached for the nurse’s buzzer.

  “I don’t need to sleep, Charlie.” Hazaar frowned. “What’s wrong?” She paused. “I know I must look an absolute mess. I’m sorry. This really isn’t the way I imagined us meeting again.” She laughed sadly. “I always imagined some romantic setting, candlelight, music, privacy.” She nodded to Afia. “Let me see if Amira will take her back to the nursery. I’m told she hasn’t been sleeping well because of the nightmares. She must be terrified after the fire and everything. Hang on.”

  “No. This was a mistake. I’m sorry. You have to take care of your daughter.” She pushed the buzzer and Kenzie came into the room.

  “That was quick.” Kenzie looked confused.

  “I need to go back to my room.”

  “Charlie, will you come back later? We should talk.” Hazaar’s eyes were wide, her forehead furrowed.

  “There’s no need, Hazaar.”

  “What? I don’t understand.”

  “You’re safe. You and Afia can go back to England as soon as you’re well enough to travel and everything’s as it should be.”

  “What are you talking about? What about us?”

  “What about us, Hazaar?” She let her head fall to her chest. “There is no us. You ended it, remember?”

  “Charlie, I made a mistake.”

  Charlie shrugged. “We all made mistakes. But at least now you’re safe, and you can go back home, and you can be happy again.”

  “Are you crazy? How in the world do you think I’ll ever be happy without you, Charlie? I’ve done nothing but dream of ways to get back to you since the day I had to leave. Yes, I made that choice, but the only choices I had were bad and fucking awful. If I hadn’t agreed, terrible things would have happened.”

  “I know. Your dad told me.”

  “Everything? Doesn’t that tell you something?”

  “Yes. But that was also more than three years ago, Hazaar. A lot of things have changed for us both in that time. The fact that you’re lying there cuddling your daughter tells us that.”

  “And the fact that you’re here right now, you know what that tells me?”

  Charlie stared at her. This was the Hazaar she remembered, the one filled with passion and fire, both of which burned brighter in those chocolate eyes.

  “It tells me that you never gave up looking for me, either. I don’t know how you knew where I was, but you don’t honestly expect me to believe that it’s a coincidence, do you? Because I’m not fucking stupid. You’re here because I am. You’re here because you were looking for me.”

  “I was looking for what we had. For what we were, Hazaar.” Charlie cursed her own stupidity.

  “Oh, you silly girl. That can never be, not again.”

  “I know.” She laughed bitterly. “That’s why it’s best if I go.”

  “No. That’s exactly why it’s best for you to stay.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I’m not letting you get away from me again, Charlie. Not now, not ever, and if I have to employ your friend here to keep you in this goddamned room while I talk some sense into you, then so be it.”

  “I’ll work for free on this one, ma’am.” Kenzie inclined her head and chuckled, ignoring Charlie’s death stare.

  “Thank you. What’s your name?”

  “Steph MacKenzie, but everyone calls me Kenzie. It’s lovely to meet you.”

  “And you, Kenzie.” Hazaar tuned back to Charlie. “So are you going to stay here and talk to me, or do I have to ask Kenzie to help me with that?”

  “Fine.” Charlie slouched in her chair. Kenzie left and closed the door behind her.

  “Don’t pout. You know how that makes me want to kiss you.” Hazaar winked at her, and Charlie burst out laughing.

  “How do you do that?”

  “What? Make you laugh? It might have been three years, Charlie, but I still know you better than anyone else in the world, and I always will.” She fixed her gaze on Charlie’s. “You’re my soul. You and Afia are the only things that have kept me going all this time.”

  “I’ve changed.” She waved her hand at Hazaar. “Hell, you’ve changed beyond all recognition. You’re a mum, Hazaar.”

  Hazaar smiled gently at the sleeping child and leaned forward to kiss her head. “Yes, and I know we’ll have a lot to figure out. Probably even more than you realize, sweetheart. But I want to. I want you so much. I don’t think I can stand the thought of you not wanting to be a part of our lives. I lost you once.”

  “I felt like you threw me away. You didn’t even explain.”

  Hazaar stared at her, tears welled in her eyes, and her breath shortened. “Is that what you think?” Her voice caught in her throat. “Is that truly what you believe? That I honestly didn’t want you? That I didn’t want our life together?”

  Charlie didn’t speak. She couldn’t, so she let her silence answer for her.

  “Charlie, I was ready to walk away from my family. I was ready to tell them about us. Hell, my dad already knew about us. He was going to let me off the family obligation before Hatim screwed up. Did he tell you that?”

  Charlie shook her head.

  “He knew about us, and he was going to let us stay together. We’d have to keep it quiet of course, for the family’s sake, but it was going to be okay. We were going to have our future together.”

  “Was going, were, would have been. They’re all past tense, Hazaar. None of it happened.”

  “I love you. I never stopped loving you.”

  All the nights she’d dreamed of hearing those words again flooded her brain, and the tears rolled down her cheeks. Nights she’d drunk herself to sleep, nights she’d stayed awake, listening to the clock tick away her dreams, one second at a time, as she imagined holding Hazaar and hearing those words whispered in her ear. She’d longed to feel them against her skin, the way they coloured the air and made the whole world bright, gave her body life like nothing or no one else had before or since. She looked up and held Hazaar’s gaze. She wanted to reach out and let go of the pain that was eating her up from the inside out, but fear of the unknown kept her from giving in. “That doesn’t make everything all right.”

  “I know. But that doesn’t make it any less true, either.”

  “What is it that you want, Hazaar?”

  “Honestly?”

  “Yes.”

  “I want you and me together again.”

  “How can that happen? You’re right. I always hoped I’d find you. But do you really think we can just pick up
where we left off?”

  “Well, no. But we have to start somewhere, don’t we?”

  “You’re a mother now.”

  “Yes, and she’s a wonderful little girl, and I’m sure…” She paused and looked at Afia in her arms. “Is that the problem? You don’t want to be a parent? We talked about children before, Charlie. You always wanted them.”

  “Afia isn’t the problem.”

  “Then what is?”

  “He is.” And there it was. The raging fire of jealousy tore through her as she pictured his hands on Hazaar’s body, his lips claiming hers, touching her, loving her, and she felt like she was coming out of her own skin.

  “He? He who?”

  “Your husband.”

  “What about him?”

  “What about him? Are you serious?” Hazaar’s eyes widened as she straightened in her chair. “The fact that you have one isn’t enough?”

  “Charlie, I didn’t have a choice. If I hadn’t married him, he would have had my father and brother imprisoned and killed. I wanted to be with you. I was ready to give them all up, my family, my culture—none of it mattered compared to you. None of it. All I wanted was our life together.” She took a deep breath. “Charlie, I could sacrifice those things for me. I was willing to pay the price of exile for us, but I couldn’t condemn my father and brother to death for my happiness—for our happiness. Do you honestly think that either of us could have lived with that choice?”

  Charlie stared at her. Every argument she thought of was flawed, imperfect under the love she still carried for Hazaar.

  And there it was. She still loved her. Had always loved her, would always love her, and no amount of jealousy or worry about the future was enough to keep her away. No amount of anger would rip them apart when her whole world had been about finding her again. And no amount of pain would match what she would feel if she walked out of the room without telling Hazaar how she felt. None.