C H A P T E R
40
- H a m s a -
"There's a difference between saying goodbye and letting go. Goodbye is not permanent, letting go is being okay with never meeting again."
-Shannon L. Alder.
Before I can reconsider the thoughts darting through my mind, I yank a scarf from the mess on the floor and secure it around my head.
If Sebastian won't - perhaps even cannot - come here, I'll go to him.
As I kneel to tie my shoe laces, a sound penetrates-a door closing with a loud click.
I carefully peer out into the hall, and see Yahiya easing off his shoes and massaging the back of his neck.
"A'ssalamu Alaikum," he calls.
Quickly I dive back into my room, apprehension flaring hotly in my chest. I cannot tell Yahiya about my plans. Even if - and that's a big if - he understands why I'm doing this, he wouldn't let me go to Sebastian's house alone and that's the last thing I need.
My ears perk up at the sound of thudding footsteps ascending the stairs. I have to determine my next course of action quickly. Should I just make up a lie, or do I tell him the truth and take my chances. Just then my gaze flickers to my open window and a smile creeps onto my face.
Wasting no time, I climb over the windowsill, securing my arms on the frame, and reach for the tree branch. In three swift moves I descend the tree, just as Yahiya enters my room mumbling, "I could swear I heard someone in here."
I smirk to myself, ignoring the sting of guilt pounding at me for sneaking out of the house like this. But I have no other choice.
My sneakers race silently as I run to the front yard. As I hop over the fence, I spot Uncle Osama looking out the window from across the road. I wave, hoping I don't look suspicious enough for him to bring this up with Lamees.
Air crashes from my lips and sweat traces my spine as I turn the last street to the discipline courtyard. I focus on the loud smack of my shoes against the asphalt, in time with the beat of my heart.
I slow as the mansion comes into view; the open iron gates, the stretching gardens, the tinted glass walls. Numerous guards surround the premises. I jerk in place for a moment, debating my next move.
I don't have a choice, I have to talk to Sebastian; tell him about the bombs, and the forged letter the camp sent... I have to ask him where he has been all these weeks if it isn't his dad who's responsible for these attacks. And most importantly I have to tell him about my feelings, whatever they may be.
But what if he doesn't want to see me anymore, what if he's sick of his Muslim friends and this is his way of letting us down easy?
My heart trips at the thought and I furiously shove it away.
I just have to play this out, no matter the consequence. With an ugly mutter I push on but not long before I'm stopped by one of the many guards standing at the front gate.
"You! Stop right there," the guard barks, pointing his club at me.
In a perfect world, the gate would be unmanned, and Sebastian would be out in the gardens, taking a stroll. I would walk up to him, he would greet me with his stupid nickname and then I'd pour my heart out to him. But my world has never been perfect, and it's stupid that I'd think it'll suddenly start now.
"I'm-" I start, but he cuts me short, jabbing my shoulder with his club.
My nostrils flare, my chin jutting high. "Hey!" I snap, but quickly gather my self-control.
"Just turn around and move before I lose my temper, witch." He waves me off dismissively.
Did he just... yes he did.
I sigh, stealing myself for what's to come. Of course I cannot fight my way into the mansion like a mad woman - even though I consider it, really consider it. I need a plan to get inside, and in my rush to get here I forgot to regulate one.
"Hey Sinclair," shouts a man seated by the front gate, he's chewing down on a doughnut and sipping from a cup of steaming liquid. "Don't waste your time with them, they're brain dead!"
This prompts a round of hysterics from the guards surrounding him.
"Just tie her up on the post and let us speak to her in a language she understands," he says around a mouthful, rising to his feet. He hands the guard next to him the cup and the empty wrapper.
"Get me my whip," he says with an air of superiority that tells me this must be the head of security.
His dead eyes and ugly sneer are what stimulate the memory. And obviously I'm not the only one who recalls our last encounter, because when he's close enough to see me his lips pull back to bare his teeth and all the dark humor vanishes from his face.
"You!" he hisses.
I pinch my lips together to reel in a smirk, but can't hide the cockiness in my voice when I say, "Hello again."
I'm not surprised that he remembers me, seeing as the last time we met I happened to smack him up the head with a stick and then spat on his face.
"Hands where I can see them, now!" he demands, waving his leather whip around threateningly.
I part my lips to speak, to tell him we've been here, done this before, but I don't get a chance because the other guard - Sinclair - tackles me, sending my knees rocking to the ground. I try to fight him, but his grip on my shoulder is strong, holding me down.
"Bitch, you're going to regret ever showing your face here again," the head of security taunts.
"I think the only one who'll be regretting anything would be you, Steve."
My eyes fly to the newcomer, my savior. His wide strides swallow the distance separating him from Steve.
Steve scoffs. "You're stepping over your ground, Mr. James. Your job is to babysit Mr. Walsh Jr. so bugger off so I can do mine."
Theo shoves away the guards holding me down, earning himself numerous dirty looks. I get to my feet, sending a grateful smile his way.
"Hey! What do you think you're doing?" Steve demands.
"She's a guest of Mr. Walsh Jr. and I doubt he'd be happy about the way you're treating her," Theo says, tilting his shades slightly to send Steve a pointed look.
Again, every guard within hearing limits breaks into a fit of laughter.
"Mr. Walsh doesn't do low prostitutes," one shouts.
I swallow back an ugly snarl and hug my arms to my chest to prevent them from doing anything stupid. I'm far outnumbered and acting out on anger is not my best move.
"Mr. Walsh Jr. isn't permitted to leave the mansion grounds or have visitors. General Walsh made that pretty clear."
My heart constricts. Sebastian is being held against his will. He didn't abandon me willingly.
My head snaps to the sound of teeth chomping and I notice the messy head of blond hair drawing towards us languidly.
"Yo! Theo man, what's taking you so long? Your king isn't going to save himself," he shouts.
He's barefoot, his long hair standing out every which way and he's hugging a black kitten to his bare chest, while munching from a big bag of chips.
I know I've met this guy before with Sebastian, but I cannot really place his name.
"If you're scared of losing just admit it so we can get a rematch." He playfully slaps Mr. James - Theo - on the back, completely oblivious to the tension hanging heavy in the air.
And then he notices me and his face breaks into a grin the size of the mansion behind him.
"Hey!" he exclaims. "It's you, Hamza."
"Actually it's Ham-Hamsa, but yeah."
"What are you doing out here? Come on in!"
I blink at him, taken back by his child-like enthusiasm, and I thought Lamees was hyperactive.
"Sir, you can't-" Steve stutters, the hand holding the whip falling limp at his side.
Blond-hair creases his face and waves his bag of chips flippantly. "No, no, Steve you've got me mixed up with Bash. He's the one you're supposed to bore to death with your lectures. Now shoo!"
His kitten contributes a loud meow. "See, even Blue thinks you're a nutter."
Without another word he pivots and swaggers back through the gates, only looking over his shoulder to make sure I'm following.
It is official I like Blond-hair. Even Theo agrees with me if the smile playing with the corner of his lips is any indication.
I sweep past Steve and Sinclair, a wave of victory washing over me when they stand by idly and let me pass.
Blond-hair slows his steps so I can catch up to him. He pockets the empty chips bag and extracts a small colorful bag.
"Pop rocks?" he says, offering me the bag.
When I shake my head, he shrugs, tipping the bag to feed his kitten. The kitten gurgles, shaking its head as the powder sizzled in its mouth and Blond-hair chuckles.
"You like that, don't you Blue?"
Theo speeds ahead, holding the double doors open for us. We walk into a vast, frigidly chill entrance hall, our steps echoing over tiled floor.
My eyes scan the place which is lavishly furnished. Spotlights blink down at us from the double-high ceiling and lifeless art hangs on the walls. One piece in particular grabs my attention; a portrait of a young Sebastian with his parents hangs above the double stair case.
Only now does it strikes me that I am here, I made it into Sebastian's home. But it also downs on me that I'm in my enemy lair. This is where all plans to destroy my nation are made.
"I'm Alex by the ways," Blond-hair says, pulling me back. "Nice to finally officially meet you."
"Umm, yeah, you're Sebastian's friend right?"
"His cousin actually."
Cousin? These two couldn't be any more different.
"I would offer you a hand, but I recall that you don't do handshakes."
My eyes drift down to his bare chest and I quickly divert my gaze.
Perhaps not that different after all.
Noticing my discomfort, Alex rubs the back of his head, smiling sheepishly. "I apologize for my lack of decency."
I clear my throat, attempting to smile. "It's okay. I'm the one who came by unannounced."
"You're here for my boy Sebastian." It's a statement not a question.
"Yes actually, I need to speak to him."
Alex smirks and lets out a knowing 'Ahhh'.
I feel a flush creep up my neck. What impression is this guy under?
"I'm sure he'd like to 'speak'"-he puts this in quotes-"to you too. But unfortunately," he lets out a dramatic sigh, "Bash is occupied at the moment. I'll see what I can do about that though."
Occupied?
But before I get the chance to get any clarification, a man with Sebastian's eyes descends the stairs in wide sure steps. The similarity ends with the eyes. And when he comes closer, I realize even those are not Sebastian's.
Alex's alarmed eyes dart between me and Sebastian' father, like he's a deer caught in the headlight of a speeding car.
"Uncle D!" The quiver in Alex's voice cannot be missed. "What are you doing out of your office?"
"I heard we have visitor, and just had to greet her myself," Sebastian's father says and I hear in his voice, see it in his eyes that he's nothing like Sebastian.
This man would never save a Muslim's life.
He smiles easily, but it's empty. Like he does it all the time without meaning.
"Hello," he says warmly, reaching for my hand. Of course I don't offer it to him. I'm not about to shake hands with the devil himself even if he weren't a man.
"General Walsh," I manage to spit in a normal voice.
"A Muslim woman huh?"
Lowering his hand nonchalantly, he looks at me-down on me, his expression avid as he surveys me with obvious disgust.
The feeling is mutual.
"She's a friend," Alex bursts and suddenly I realize he's not scared of his Uncle, he's scared for me.
"Hmmm." The simple sound escaping the General's lips carries such darkness I almost cringe. "She's that friend, isn't she?
His eyes drill into mine, threatening, challenging. I feel myself shrinking inwardly. But I don't show it. I force myself to hold his stare, pretending he doesn't make feel shaky inside.
"Join me in the living room for a small chat, now would you?"
"I'd love to," I lie, waxing on a smile that hurts my face.
Sitting with this man ranks right up there with me having my guts spilled out on the floor, but I have to buy sometime for Alex to go get Sebastian; wherever he is.
I send a pointed look in Alex's direction and he quickly disappears up the stairs, hopefully to go get Sebastian.
General Walsh waves me into a large living room to our left. My skin ripples, fear dangerously close. I suck in a breath and chafe a hand over my arm as I walk in, hearing the door click in place.
He takes a seat on one of the big sofas, and leans back, stretching his arms out on his sides.
Before I am seated, he speaks up, all the fake-friendliness gone.
"You've caused me a lot of trouble, Miss Tahir."
"Well, that makes us even," I say, sliding into the sofa across from him.
His lips press tight and he shakes his head as if I'm the biggest disappointment of his life. "So young and stupid."
"At least I'm not a coward who hides behind my soldiers and guns and bombs," I blurt.
His boisterous laughter booms and I clench my jaw to hold back the profanities begging to roll off my tongue.
"Oh Miss Tahir, you think I'm afraid of you and your people? You already belong to me. You can demonstrate and repel all you want. But in the end of the day, you've lost this war." His voice is raspy and horrible.
"We will never give up, until our last breath leaves us, we'll fight back," I say, fueled by determination.
He snickers, drumming his fingers against his leg. "Yes, you and that hot-headed brother of yours-Yahiya, was it? And your cousin, Zayn. I'm sure they'll fight... Till the end."
I hate the sound of their names on his tongue, so foul.
"But they lead such dangerous lives working in that mill." He sucks his teeth, making a burning sound. "Either of them can get seriously injured or even killed. Unfortunate accidents happen all the time."
"You-" I snarl, my lips curling back. "Don't you dare threaten my family!"
I don't care that I'm losing my control, or that I'm shouting at General Walsh inside his mansion which is swarming with his guards.
He smiles. "I wouldn't have to if you just left mine to be."
I stare down at my hands, noticing the tiny half-moons my nails dug without my even knowing.
"What have I done to your family?"
He taps his fingertips together. "You have played with my son's head. Sebastian is now convinced that I'm the bad guy here."
My scoff is so loud, it startles me. "Aren't you though?"
"Miss Tahir, you are a smart lady, I can give you that much. And you should have realized already that I am not the one behind these explosions. My methods are more... evolved."
"Yes you do prefer torture over immediate death," I say with a sneer.
"But Sebastian is convinced I'm killing all these people."
"What does that have to do with me?"
"Well, Miss Tahir, this is all your fault to begin with. You've got him thinking you Muslims are saints. Now, if you want to prevent your family members from having any accidents"-he lifts his eyebrows pointedly-"you'll show him your real colors."
Is this man out of his mind?
"How am I supposed to do that?"
"You're a resourceful woman, I'm sure you'll figure out a way. And you better make an excellent show out of it, or else you and your family will pay for it."
"Sebastian won't let you do that," I say, finding courage.
General Walsh's chest ripples with laughter. "You overestimate my son, Miss Tahir." He lowers his voice and his eyes shine with a dangerous spark. "And you underestimate me. I'll just get rid of him if he becomes too much of a pain."
I catch a whimper before it leaves my throat.
"You would harm your own son?" I ask incredulously, but I can already see it; this man is capable of any sort of cruelty.
He inches closer, and I involuntarily move backwards. His eyes are narrow and when he opens his mouth I know he means every word he utters. "Oh, you're so gullible, Miss Tahir. I've done far worse to get where I am today. I got rid of my own wife, you think me above doing the same to my son?"
I find myself actually at loss for words, I have never believed people who claimed to be speechless, but at the moment all I can do is listen to the sound of blood surging in my veins.
I open my mouth, and all that comes out is air, then something like the beginning of a sob. Finally a dry little croak escapes my lips.
"You're a monster," I sputter.
"So we have come to an understanding," he says, moving dispassionately to his feet. "I'm glad we could have this chat, Miss Tahir. Come on I'll show you out."
I doubt that my feet can bear my weight, but I get up anyway. I lean on the armrest until I'm positive I can stand and then drag my feet to the door.
This monster killed Sebastian's mother and he's threatening to kill all the people I love, including Sebastian. The words ricochet in my mind.
I palm my hands on the skirt of my dress and open the door to be met with a startled, wide-eyed Alex. His kitten screeches and jumps out of his hold, and he blinks at me for a moment before racing after it up the stairs.
My eyes follow him and just then they fall on a familiar pair of eyes that send my heart soaring.
A smile pulls at the corner of my lips.
And then I remember what I'm supposed to do, and a lump forms in my throat.
Sebastian doesn't even try to look happy to see me as he takes the last step down. "Hamsa. What are you doing here?"
I toss a quick explanation, my back burning under General Walsh's stare. "I thought I would check out where you live, you know, since you've been to my place numerous times."
"That was nice of her, wasn't it?"
Sebastian flinches at his father's voice. His gaze flickers uneasily beyond me, over my shoulder.
I quickly move out of the doorway, letting him pass out into the hall.
"Father," Sebastian says tightly.
"Why are you out of your room, Sebastian? I thought I made it pretty clear that you are not to leave it."
"And I can see why now." Sebastian's eyes rove my face, searching. I sense his confusion, his inability to understand me...or why I'm here.
"Miss Tahir was just leaving actually," General Walsh says, giving me a piercing look.
I hold my breath and nod. "Yes, I am."
I sweep past Sebastian, heading for the door but he moves, blocking my path out. "What's going on Hamsa?" he rasps. "Why are you listening to him?"
"Please move, I have to go."
"No, not before you tell me what you're doing here." He pins me with an intense look that screams something I don't understand.
General Walsh is out of earshot, and I know I can tell Sebastian the intense conversation I just had with his father. But I cannot guarantee that he will believe me, and even if he does, there's absolutely nothing he can do.
The only option I have is follow General's Walsh instructions. Sebastian has to hate me, I have to stay away from him.
I shift, and again he moves between me and the door.
"Hamsa," he pleads, his voice tinged with desperation.
I close my eyes and breathe in the sound of my name on his lips.
I don't want him to hate me though, I don't want to leave him and I never want to let go. But I have to.
I can't be selfish.
"I said move!" I snap, and the hurt look on his face breaks me in half.
I try to move around him again and this time he doesn't stop me.