In My Sister's Shadow-Book II

6. Exposed

My heart plunged into the ground and I trembled as he saw through my shell and into my soul. No one knew my secret, it was between me and my demons, but he'd memorised the scars on my body. He cared about me.
"I can't give you anything but more scars." He held my arms. "Zoh'ra, I'm just a screwed up kid who ran away from home when he was fourteen. I bounced around in many care homes and ran away each and every time." He stepped close to me, his eyes wide and glimmering with tears which he held back.
"If only my m-mum was there for me. If only, she'd took care of me, I would probably be a different man." His voice soft threatening to break. He'd never talked about his mother, not like this.
"Zayn-" I whispered blanketing my hand over his. "What happened to your mum?"
"They beat her Zo'hra." His voice shook. "I heard them. So, what if I was six years old, I heard them. They locked me in the basement and they would come and beat her." Zayn turned away concealing his pain.
I gasped with shock covering my mouth with my hands.
"They murdered her, I know it was them."
"Whose them?"
"I saw her blood, red on her yellow scarf with a green knitted border. She'd knitted it herself and sat up every evening with the radio on."
Who were 'they'? Who was he talking about. Zayn sunk into the sofa, his back slumped and head bowed. I kneeled in front of him.
"Who killed her? Who are they?"
Silence cut between us.
"Was is your dad?" I asked and moved onto the sofa and sat beside him.
"I wish it was. But he'd left with his girlfriend."
For the first time he'd opened to me.
"I wish I had a picture, a memento of her. Something I can remember her by. Maybe if she was alive, if she bought me up I wouldn't be who I am. I'm a wreck Zohra, utter wreck. I don't know what to do anymore." His shoulders shook with tears draining his eyes. He curled into a ball and I reached out and enveloped his head pressing it against my chest. Holding his shivering cold body, there was nothing I could say to console him. He cried for his mother. He'd been through hell. We sat in observing a moment's silken silence in honour of Zayn's mother. Zayn wrapped his arms around me and I held his heavy head in my arms, pressing his wet hair against my top. I stroked him softly, in long waves trying to retain warmth. Questions clouded my head, there was so much I wanted to ask but this wasn't the right time. Zayn needed to lead, and I was here to listen.
"I'm here, alive because of you." Finally, he looked up, his eyes moist with tears. "Since Zeenat died, you've been with me. Your tougher. Resilient. You're better than me." I wasn't. I didn't deserve his praise. I pulled away nervously gathering myself and stood up. Zayn's tall frame shadowed me standing behind me. With his hands on my shoulders he turned me around to face him.
"I am better with you. You give me focus, you make me want to be a better man." He pulled me in and wrapped his strong arms around me. I sighed in breathing in his earthy scent closing my eyes and I forgot about the world around me, the smell of the room sent me into a haze. It didn't matter what happened, but this moment was what I was waiting for. His chin grazed the top of my forehead, his pressed his lips against my fore head. His hand caressed my cheek tilting my face towards him, he leaned in and softly kissed my lips. I felt wanted. Loved. Appreciated. Everything was right, the mood, the room, the scent and the darkness. I was his. He leaned into the kiss, framing my face with his hands. For that split moment I was in another world. I was lost. Until it hit me, we were being watched. I cut off him and moved away.
"Not here." I folded my arms and turned my back towards him.
"Why?" he neared me.
I looked around the dark room with hidden corners.  I rubbed my hands over my face waking up from this dream staring into the flame.
"Zohra-" he reached out to hold me but I pushed him away.
"I want to know the truth Zayn. Please, tonight tell me the truth." I didn't care about the stupid cameras. They couldn't record our voices. I just wanted answers to my suspicions.
"About what?"
"What happened to Zeenat on that night? Did you argue? Did she run away from you?" I was sick and tired with the questions. I needed an answer. I had to be sure.
"Why are you asking me this now? That's all in the past. I'm here with you. I want you." Zayn neared me, and I stepped away.
"I need to know. Where you there, in the house with her? Why did she leave?"
"We've been over this." He pleaded for me to move on.
"She wanted to take the kids from you. That's why you argued? You took the children from her and she went after you. Tell me Zayn, please. That's why she said at the hospital to keep the children away from you."
"She said that?"
"Yes. In the hospital, she said to me to keep the children away from him. I don't what that means. I don't know who she was talking about. It's driving me crazy. I just-"
"You think she meant me? You think I had something to do with her running and crashing her car?"
Running my hands through my hair, I was confused. I needed answers. "I don't know. I want to know who she meant."
"It's obvious, you think it's me. She wanted to keep the kids away from me. It makes sense now. It's falling into place."
"Just be honest." I pleaded pulling his t-shirt.
Zayn brushed me away. "You don't trust me. I thought we had something here, something real. But you don't even trust me."
"Just be honest for once."
"If you don't trust me, why did you marry me?" He scoffed with laughter answering his own question. "For the kids. You married me for the children's sake, to make sure you did your dad's bidding. And to find out where Zeenat was going."
"No. It's I just-I j-just want to know-"
"The police asked me these questions, like you've done. I feel I'm being interrogated. You must have said something to them." The moment he uttered it, was the moment he added everything together. He looked at me with a new-found vision and pointed to me.
"You. It was you who called the police straight after the funeral."
I couldn't deny it. I was certain he had a hand in Zeenat running away. "And you married me because you thought you'd find some information."
"No- Zayn! No" I denied with all my might reaching out to him but he stepped away and slow clapped my performance like a sick stage performance.
"Well done Zohra. You've pulled a blinder." He clapped. "You had me convinced. I thought we had something here, but you don't even fuckin' trust me." he mocked me with laughter.
Out of my depth with everything slipping away from my fingers, I feared I'd been caught out, the moment he saw the cameras he would know. He would go to my parents, grab the children and leave-forever. I'd made a mistake. I was wrong about him.
"Zayn, so much is going on- I don't know anything anymore."
He grabbed me by the hair and pulled my head back until it tilted to the ceiling. I yelped in pain reaching out and holding his hands.
"You think you're clever don't you. Reading your fancy books, dressing in fine clothes with your rich daddy. You thought Zayn has finally cracked." His spewed his hatred into my face, his face contorted with rage.
"Let me go Zayn." His tug was forceful.
"Knuckle head Zayn!  Stupid Zayn has fallen for the smart sister. But he doesn't know she's a scheming bitch like her spoilt sister." He threw me on the sofa and glared at me.
"You're poison. You and Zeenat."

Zayn stormed out as my heart pounded. He added the clues together and reached the conclusion that this marriage was a trap. He was right. Somewhere in this room was evidence. If he ever found the evidence, it would finish us. I had to find it and take it down. I was wrong to suspect Zayn, he wasn't the man I believed he was. He was a struggling man who suffered childhood trauma witnessing his mother's murder. Then he moved from different homes and his father failed him. He struggled to keep his family together, he needed help from me, not judgment. He saw my scars, my pain and my joy. 'Stupid Zayn has fallen for the smart sister.' What did he mean by that? I had to find him and make it up to him.
'Oh God what have I done?' I cried out, running my hands through my hair.
"He's gone. I've lost him."
Or maybe he left to collect the children?