by S. Valentine
I put my arms flat on the counter and rest my head. “I haven’t been honest with him about a few things.”
“Like what?”
“I can’t tell you now,” I mumble. “But I will soon.”
Lori waltzes over to me and forces me into a hug. She holds me tight and I could cry, overwhelmed with her kindness. “Whatever you’re going through, I’m here. I’ll always be here.”
“Thanks.”
“Everything will be fine in the end.” She rubs my back.
I disentangle myself and tell her I’m going to watch TV. I’m actually going to close the curtains in my room, shut the world out, and try to sleep. It’s easier to ignore my reality that way.
Chapter Thirty-Six
ELIAS
I refuse my mom’s offer of dinner, and remain on the sofa, staring at the TV but not watching it. My parents are in the kitchen and I know they sense something’s up, that they’re talking about me in hushed voices. Out of boredom I log onto the dating app on my mobile and scan the beauties on there. I need a distraction. I’m tempted to call Lara. Can I do that to Amara though? Amara? I tut. There’s no Amara. Aisha more like. Aisha, the liar. One thing I especially hate are liars. I wonder what else she kept from me besides her real name. I’m an idiot for trusting her and letting her in.
Even though I’m not with Amara...I just can’t get to grips with thinking of her as an Aisha, so she’s still Amara to me. Even though I’m not with her and will never forgive her in a million years, I can’t replace her that quickly. Another woman isn’t going to fill this empty void. I knew I should have avoided relationships.
Now it all makes sense...Amara hating having her photograph taken, not being on social media, forthcoming about her past, having the latest mobile, probably worried about GPS trackers...all that and the fact she’s working off the books, she’s hiding something. She hasn’t spoken to her family in a while either. Did she do something that bad they disowned her? Could she have killed her ex-boyfriend? But why would she need the gun? Maybe an abusive ex-boyfriend doesn’t even exist.
My brain hurts from information overload. I rub my head and sink lower on the sofa. I don’t know what to think anymore. Was she even into me? Or did she just want a bodyguard to protect her from whatever she’s running from?
I groan inwardly. I lost my job because of her. I’ll be losing out on a lot of money not having Thomas as a client. The way she made out he was a bad person makes me laugh. I’ve been blind. It was her who was the bad one.
An hour after chatting with my parents about general stuff, Maverick calls me. There’s a private party happening in central London and he wants to go. I say my goodbyes and set off home. It doesn’t take me long to shower and dress in a smart suit. I drive to Maverick’s place, and we take his Ferrari to the party. He gets an ego boost when people stop and gawp in the street. We collect two girls on the way, and then we’re in a penthouse overlooking the bright lights of the city.
The place consists of around fifty people dancing, talking, and taking drugs. A DJ is present as always, this time playing R&B. I position myself near the door where I can keep control of who enters. This party is by invitation only.
I’m tired and bored when midnight makes an appearance. I check my mobile, unsure who I’m expecting to hear from. It’s not like Amara has the guts to explain herself or apologise, not that it’d change matters.
When I’ve finished work and back in my car, my mobile rings. I check the screen unsure of the number. I don’t usually answer these calls, and as much as I’m pissed off with Amara I wouldn’t want her to be in any danger, and I suspect this call relates to her.
“Yes?” I answer abruptly.
“Elias. It’s me Lori.”
My heart squeezes in my chest, sudden worry hitting me full blast. Fuck. I still care about Amara. Too much. I’m a fool. “What is it?”
“I’m worried about Amara. She hasn’t left the house in days. And she’s packed to go up north alone tomorrow. Something isn’t right.”
I hit my steering wheel and grit my teeth. Problems I don’t need. Why can’t we just have a clean break? Now I have to be there for Amara even though she’s hurt me, lied to me, ruined what we have. If only I could block both her and Lori’s number. I close my eyes for a brief second. I can’t. If something happened to either one of them I’d have new guilt, and I can’t allow it.
“I’ll be there soon,” I reluctantly tell her. “Don’t mention I’m coming in case she leaves.”
“Okay.” She pauses. “You’re the right person I called, to help her?” Her voice shakes with worry.
“Who else could you call?”
She’s quiet and I know I’ve made my point. How is it Amara has no one here to care for her? It doesn’t make sense. I start the car and set off to Lori’s place. So Amara was intending to leave tomorrow, no goodbye, nothing. The rejection is unsettling. Anger simmers in my veins. She’s really not the woman I thought she was.
When I arrive at the destination Lori invites me in. She quietly offers me a tea or coffee which I refuse. I want to get this over and done with. As soon as I know Amara is safe and she has solid plans and somewhere to go up north, I’ll leave her be.
“Come upstairs. She was packing the last I checked on her.”
“Did she tell you we had a fight?” How much does Lori know? Has she been keeping Amara’s secrets from me too?
“She said you’d fell out, but she didn’t give me details. I’m worried.” Lori must be clueless then.
I follow her upstairs. She knocks on Amara’s door and when she yells for her to enter, I do so. Lori flashes me a sympathetic smile and then I’m left to it. She’s still packing, folding clothes into a suitcase. When she stands and turns in my direction she gasps in shock.
“Elias...What are you doing here?”
“Lori was worried about you.”
She folds her arms across her chest. “I’m fine. So, you can leave.”
I blink. She’s mad with me? How dare she? “I should be the one pissed off here, not you, so lose the attitude. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“One, don’t tell me what to do. And two, as I said I’m fine.”
I take in her messy waves, beautiful eyes, and full lips I’ve missed kissing. The attraction I have for her is out of my control. That smart mouth. I want to shut her up with mine, taste her, ravage her. I hate my traitorous fucking body. What is it about this woman? She makes it impossible for me to focus on anything, but her.
“Why did you lie to me?” I have to know.
She sighs and continues packing. “I’m not getting into this,” she snaps. “We’re not a couple. I don’t owe you an explanation...”
I march toward her and seize her by the arm. “I deserve to know why you lied to me,” I spit out, feeling the angry heat in my eyes. I was nothing but honest with her.
“I had to!” She pushes me off. “Don’t touch me.”
“Amara,” I warn. “Or should I say Aisha?”
“Amara is who I am now, so Amara will do just fine, thanks. Now can you leave?”
“Not until I know you’re not in danger.” I stand my ground. I’m not going anywhere.
“What do you care?” she cries out. “You couldn’t get away quick enough that night.”
“I still care, but I hate liars.”
“I didn’t lie. I just...didn’t tell you.”
“Withholding important information is just as bad as lying,” I scold her.
“Go away!” Tears start streaming down her face and she sobs uncontrollably, shocking me.
“Amara...”
“Don’t touch...”
Before she can finish I step toward her and seize her face in my hands. She’s amazing even when she’s angry and upset. I kiss her cheeks over and over, as if it’ll take her pain away. She peeps up at me through her dark lashes, and I can’t help myself. I press my mouth against hers hard. She reciprocates and our tongues intertw
ine, our lips kissing hard and fast. My hands are tearing off her t-shirt and sliding down her shorts in frenzied movements. I shrug out of my clothes and we tumble to the bed, both naked.
Forget talking right now. I need this woman. Even if what she tells me afterwards sends me running for the hills, at least I’ll have had this one final moment.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
AMARA
Elias brushes my tears away with his thumbs and looks at me. He might be angry with me right now, but surely he still loves me. Feelings can’t dissolve that quickly. His anger is slowly morphing into passion and his fast movements become gentle. He closes his eyes and kisses me tenderly as if cherishing every single second. It’s clear he’s missed me. His lips travel down to my neck where he leaves a trails of pecks, and his hands are stroking over my skin as if I’m the most delicate thing ever. Goosebumps race across my body and I arch my back when he gets lower, ensuring no part of me remains untouched. I feel like a Goddess being worshipped right now. This isn’t just sex. He’s expressing his feelings with his actions.
“I missed you,” I whisper truthfully, aware of the rejection I may be met with, but needing him to know.
His stare bores into mine intently. “Let’s talk afterwards.”
He kisses me again and rubs his body against mine, his arousal making me tingle. I clasp hold of his firm, bare ass and pull him into me. We kiss and stroke and stare, the chemistry intense. I desperately want to tell him I love him, but I don’t.
When Elias pushes into me I wince at the intrusion, until he slides in and out, getting me used to him. My hormones go crazy then, the pleasure building and building in my overstimulated body. He lowers his head and his tongue meets my nipple, where he flickers over it several times, before sucking it into his mouth. I moan and push my hips up to meet his, greedy for more. He rocks his body into mine, both hands now squeezing my breasts, his thumbs circling my nipples.
His tongue laps away at mine, and still he’s taking it easy with me, making love to me. Our bodies rock in sync, the sound of flesh hitting flesh filling the air. My body coils up tight, needing release, and I bite down on my lip. Elias drives into me further, over and over, until he stops. He plunges in one final time and an orgasm ripples through me. I moan out loud, my limbs stretching, my lower muscles tightening and releasing, as spasms ricochet through me.
Elias climaxes too, stiffening and grunting, gripping my hair. His pleasured, satisfied sounds in my ear are so erotic. An array of emotions attack me, and he must be experiencing the same. When we’re fully sated, I allow my body to relax, and he drops on top of me, his head on my chest. I can feel the thrumming of his heartbeat against my own. Heat passes from his warm, muscular body to mine and I relish in it.
If only we could stay like this forever. If only we didn’t have to have the conversation which will ruin everything. I’m afraid to move, to speak, hoping he’s drifted off. No such luck. He shifts over and clambers under the covers. The fact he isn’t getting dressed is a good sign.
“So,” he begins. “What’s there to know about you, Aisha Hamed?”
My real name, the person I am, almost makes me seize up. I hide my nakedness with the covers as if they can protect me. Aisha Hamed. I don’t even know where to start. It’s as if discussing it will jinx me and put me in danger, that saying it out loud will magically make them find me.
The longer I stay silent, the more I’ll clam up and lose the courage to be honest. I take a deep breath and focus on the wall before me. Anything but look at Elias. I can’t bear to witness his reaction to every little thing I’ve kept hidden from him.
“I told you I was born and grew up in Saudi Arabia.” I lick my dry lips to moisten them. “My parents were strict and had old fashioned beliefs. I couldn’t choose my clothes, education, career, husband. I wasn’t even allowed to learn how to drive.” Linking my hands together, I try to prevent them from shaking. “Without my parents knowing, I studied the English language in the hope to always run away, to have a better life.” I snivel. “They found my English book and whipped me hard. It was so bad I couldn’t lie on my back for weeks.” Tears well in my eyes and I tilt my head back to capture them. I must be strong.
“I still studied it, but was more careful. Anyway I knew of this woman. She was being forced to marry a man she didn’t love. Because she didn’t obey and brought shame on her family...” I pause, the memory painful. “They had her killed. Their own daughter.”
Elias is silent. He must be educated to the lifestyle, not shocked in the slightest.
“I just needed to dress how I wanted, have my own identity, bake for a living, have a husband I loved and a family. Some independence, some freedom. But I was forbidden from making any decisions, and I felt like a prisoner. Some women can adapt to that lifestyle, even be content with it, but I wasn’t. What’s the point in living if someone else plans your life for you?” This time I bravely sneak a glance at Elias. His jaw is twitching. He’s taking in every thing I’m saying, but I can’t guess what he’s thinking. Is he judging me? Does he think I’m a rebel, selfish, traitorous to her own kind?
“My parents found me a husband. He was older than me. Not my type. We didn’t have anything in common and he was controlling. If I thought my life was hell then, it would have been worse. I couldn’t marry him.” I shudder at the thought of that man. Tears trickle down my face now but I let them go free. “I saw no other option. My parents wouldn’t listen when I begged not to be married. I was beaten. So, I convinced Yousef, the man I was to marry, to take me to London before we wed, that I’d always wanted to go. And I’m ashamed to admit this, but I stole money from my parents.”
Elias inhales sharply at this information. He must know the outcome, what happens to thieves.
“So we went to London, and I stole from Yousef. He tried to stop me and I hit him before escaping.” I bury my head in my hands and cry hard. Saying this all out loud is humiliating. “I...I hate myself for it. And I know when they find me I’ll go to prison, or be killed. I’ve shamed them. I’ve ignored their traditions and I’m scared.”
Elias pulls me to him and embraces me tightly. He doesn’t speak, simply waits patiently for me to continue.
“After staying in hostels here and there, and barely surviving, I met Thomas. I wanted a new life, a new identity, and I didn’t want to be found, so my new name was Amara Jain. Gone were the bershkas and I dressed as most English women do my age. I had to blend in.” I close my eyes for a moment. “Things were going good until Thomas found my passport with my real name. He demanded to know everything, or I’d be back on the street. To this day he’s used it against me, that he’ll publicly announce my whereabouts online should I ever hurt him.” I sigh heavily, my head starting to ache. “He’s probably done it already. The Police, my family, Yousef, they’ll already be looking for me. As I said, I’ll be deported and imprisoned, or killed.”
Elias bolts to his feet, a murderous look in his eyes, his fists clenched. Is he mad at me? Does he hate me, this thief, traitor, sinner? I wouldn’t blame him.
“Now you know why I had the gun, to protect myself, why I hated going out alone, and refuse to be on social media, or have my photograph taken. I took my religion seriously and never sinned until I had to escape, and then I sinned again when I met you and fell in love.” If only I’d have suggested marriage first. It would have be okay then. Well, not in my parents eyes, but in mine. But then it would have been based on lies and a rocky foundation and wouldn’t have lasted. I doubt Elias would have agreed to it anyway.
He drops on the bed and buries his head in his hands as if it’s all too much to process. I’ve just blurted the majority of my past in a matter of minutes. I wouldn’t blame him if he walked out the door and never came back. I’m a hazard, a walking time bomb. Anyone who associates with me is practically assisting me and who knows what my family will do with that.
“This is mind blowing,” he mutters.
“Try living
it.”
“Why haven’t you sought asylum? Got protection from your family?”
I scoff. “They won’t care if I can legally be here, or if I have protection. They won’t care about the law. They want me punished for shaming them. They’ll want to use me as an example to others in Saudi Arabia, to not betray your own.”
With a heavy sigh he turns to me. “You should have told me all this before things developed.”
“It was hard. The more people who knew, the more chance they’d have at finding me. Besides....” I sigh. “You were already blowing hot and cold. You weren’t even sure about us.”
He takes my hands in his. “I was scared of getting involved with someone and losing them.”
I don’t want to ask this next question, but I have to know. “So where does this leave us? You will lose me, so it’s best to get out while you can.” It physically hurts my heart to say this, but I’d rather be devastated than for Elias to be hurt, to go through losing someone he loves again. “Look what happened to your ex. You have a high risk job, and like to keep your life private, and when Thomas exposes me, everyone will know who I am. It’s best I leave without you,” I say, having made up my mind. Pushing to my feet, the tension in my shoulders worsen. I’m exasperated and exhausted.
Elias stands and guides me by the chin so my eyes meet his. “We’re in this together,” he tells me, his words firm. “I know the risks now and I’m prepared.”
Prepared? I almost laugh but something in his hardened expression tells me Elias won’t let anyone hurt those close to him again. I want to believe he’s prepared. I pray he is.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
ELIAS
The session started off slow with me barely letting anything out, guarded as usual. Then the therapist seemed to have a way of coaxing it all out of me. Patient and understanding, she soon had me spilling my guts about Kaley, my regrets, the shame and the guilt. Now as I listen to her soothing words, I sit back on the comfy sofa, and swallow the painful lump in my throat. Many times I wanted to break down, but I’ve held it all in. I didn’t think therapy could help me, but she has eased some of the guilt, made me see it wasn’t entirely my fault, that I couldn’t have predicted another person’s actions. I’d warned Kaley to stay away from the club, and she hadn’t listened.