I was a bundle of nerves when Akram and I walked out of the bedroom, my hand sheltered in his.
We stepped into a spacious, modernly decorated foyer, and I realized we were in the ground floor of the house. A gigantic U-shaped sofa centered the area - velvety beige sprinkled with green, plant-patterned cushions. The sofa surrounded an elegant oriental carpet that spread out under an oblong coffee table. Perfect sitting area for a big, functional, loving family.
At the far side of the foyer, next to a staircase, sat an upright piano, matching the color of the hardwood floor.
Sunlight filtered through the numerous, tall windows adorning the walls. A delicious cinnamony scent enveloped the beautiful home with a sense of familiarity. Warm and authentic. Just like the lady of the house and her incredible son.
Sophie sat on the sofa, Jannah nestled on her lap holding an iPad in her little hands, and Laila was seated next to a guy, whose face was unclear from my standpoint. I assumed he was Akmal.
My shoulders hunched up automatically, my free arm coiling itself around my torso as Akram and I toddled forward. Everyone here - except for Akram - was a stranger to me. My anxiety began to emerge, twisting my insides in knots. I had no idea what I was doing here right now. I felt out of place. An intruder. And I most definitely was the only eyesore in this blissful haven. They were not the strangers... I was.
As we reached the gathering, Sophie got up, snuggling Jannah against her side, and swept a hand over my stiff shoulder. "Sweetie, I'm going to be in the kitchen. Tell Akram if you need me for any reason, ok?"
I nodded, managing a grateful half-smile.
"Boys," She turned to face Akmal and Akram, raising a warning finger. "Behave."
The supposed-to-be Akmal replied with a deep chuckle and an elegant bow of his head. His charisma was evident, no doubt, even with the intimidating aura surrounding him. The pitch black eyes, the short beard, and the impeccably tailored grey suit gave him a formidable quality. He could pass as a ruthless young CEO, or one of those professional bodyguards who hover around celebrities.
"Yes, ma'am." Akram bowed too, sending his mother a fond smile and stooped to kiss the top of her head. Sophie chuckled softly, cupped his chin in her hand, then she walked away, her arm looped firmly around Jannah.
My eyes stung for such a pitiful reason. Their mother-son relationship was so sweet. So unobtainable that it made me want to cry a little.
Averting my eyes from the perfect image, I caught a glimpse of Laila, exchanging an intent glance with Akmal. He shifted his weight - lots of robust weight there - curling an arm around her back, his observant gaze roaming between Akram and I.
I tried not to make eye contact.
Laila inched closer and held my shoulders gently, giving me two air kisses on the cheeks. "Glad you're okay, Melody."
"Thanks," I mumbled, a flush of embarrassing memories rushing back to me. "I, uh, I'm so sorry for what I said in the car... I- I wasn't... I mean, I didn't..."
"Don't worry." Laila stroked my arm lightly, her eyes sympathetic. "I should apologize too, you know, about the shelter. Please understand that I couldn't blow my cover. I was just doing my job." She clasped her hands together apologetically.
I stared at her shiny wrist-watch that had looked like an oddity back in the shelter. Now it just fell into place. She hadn't really belonged to my world. Just as I didn't belong in hers.
"I understand." I nodded, even though I felt a stab in my dignity at the reminder of my 'former residence'. It wasn't something anyone would be proud of. Especially not after I'd flipped my lid and attacked her and Vivian.
My face heated up with shame.
And I thought she worked with Vivian! God, I acted so stupid and now she's being too kind to me... I'm such an idiot!
Suddenly, I was aware that the well-built man next to her with a lopsided smile knew everything too. The history of my humiliation was up for grabs. I pinned my lips together, trying not to dwell on this fact. It was over now. No more shelter. No more bullying. And as far as I could tell, I wasn't under arrest. I still needed to find a place to live, but that was something I would've done sooner or later. I should be relieved, right? But I couldn't help the nagging feeling that crawled in the back of my head and made me shudder.
"Hiya, brothah." A deep manly voice boomed out from Akmal's mouth as he slapped Akram on his back. He tilted his head toward me, holding out a large hand, a striking smile stretched out across his lips. "And good to meet you, almost - sistah."
My eyes widened to hear his distinct British accent, although it suited him so well, but I definitely didn't see it coming. Akram didn't have a foreign accent, neither did Sophie, or even Laila.
The 'sister' part went right over my head though. It could've been his way of showing courtesy, or even making fun of me. I couldn't tell. The funny thing was, I half-expected him to introduce himself as "Thor Odinson, The God Of Thunder," with that abysmal tone of his and the excessive amount of muscle. The gladiator physique was pretty much the same.
"Erm! Nice to meet you." My cheeks warmed at my ridiculous thoughts as I awkwardly shook his firm hand.
"I see my brother's been a jammy little chap." Akmal smirked, reaching a hand to tousle Akram's hair, who didn't look too happy, considering the color of his ears.
"Um!" My eyes narrowed in confusion. The accent was absolutely easy on the ear, but it didn't make his words any easier to grasp.
I blinked when Laila poked Akmal in the ribs, whispering in his ear while she clung to his bicep. They seemed well-acquainted from the way they gravitated toward each other.
Akmal rumbled a chuckle and blurted out a few words in Arabic - which reminded me that I needed to learn Arabic so badly.
With the corner of my eye, I saw Akram shaking his head and raising an eyebrow at his brother. Curiosity nudged me to ask for translation, but I hated to sound like a Nosy Parker in my first meeting with Akram's family. I had hoped they would like me, although nothing ensured that.
There was no denying the truth. I thought Akram was the most handsome guy I'd ever met, but Akmal was... Well, something else- An entirely different level of handsome. His intense eyes and sleek brown hair, complimenting a bronze tan and a superhero jawline, were all packed up into, at least, 6.5 feet of muscle. He looked offensively flawless that I caught myself comparing him to his brother.
Akram was tall and lean, but not as muscular as Akmal, who hulked up over him by a few inches.
Akram was the heartthrob kind of good-looking, not the overwhelming kind that blinds your eyes and makes you uncomfortable.
Akram was shy and sensitive with a sensitive, artistic soul, while Akmal seemed bold, overconfident, and more inclined to physical expression.
The difference between Akram and Akmal was like the difference between basking in the sunshine, and having a sunburn. I hardly tolerated sunburns, so Akram still won in my book.
"I assume you already know. I'm Akmal Sadiq. His big brother." He swung his arm around Akram's shoulder and grinned, pulling him under his arm. "I capture bad blokes and apparently a bunch of them put a price on your head, so you're in luck."
"Huh?" My jaw dropped, gawking at his amused expression.
Laila's head snapped, shooting him a scolding glare.
"Akmal, would you please watch your mouth for once?" Akram winced and extricated himself from his brother's hold.
"That was not news, bruv. She's almost gotten her head blasted by that mad clown," Akmal held his hands up on each side of his husky body. "It's quite fortunate the clown's become a jam sandwich inside that heap of rubbish."
Hearing his choice of words, my facial muscles twitched and my limbs went ice cold. The crude analogy brought back flashes of the brutal accident that I wanted to wipe off my brain with straight bleach. The image of a bloodied cake of dirty-blonde hair flickered on and off in my head as I reeled on my feet.
Taking a faltering step backwards, my foot caught the leg of the coffee table and I almost tripped and fell like a sack of potatoes.
"Oh Lord!" Akram's arm looped around me, bringing me back to my feet. "Sorry, Mel. He has no filter."
"Filters are for minors, bruv," Akmal stated and turned his unaffected gaze to me. "All right, Miss?"
"I'm okay... I'm okay," I murmured as blood rushed to my face, bringing another wave of embarrassment.
Akram pressed my hand and leaned in to whisper in my ear, "I'm so sorry. Please try to bear with him."
Swallowing my momentary shame once again, I focused my attention on Laila. She seemed like a friendly face at the moment. "Well, I... just, uh, wanted to thank you... both... for saving us."
Laila grinned and leaned in to give me an awkward hug. "No problem, Melody. It's our pleasure."
"It certainly is," Akmal added, "but we're not quite done with you yet."
"I beg your pardon?" My eyelids fluttered nervously, competing with my increasing heartbeat.
What the hell was that supposed to mean? Is this still about the accident? Am I in trouble? I couldn't be blamed for what happened, could I? No, no, that doesn't add up. Maybe he wants more information about the shelter?... But, come on! He's with the FBI. They know everything! What could he possibly want from me?
"Ms. Summer, we've got business to take care of, and I've little patience for pleasantries." Akmal shrugged off his jacket and threw it on the back of the sofa, suddenly looking less bold and more business-like.
I gulped. "B-business?"
Akmal was busy undoing his cuff buttons and folding the sleeves of his dress shirt neatly. His arms were more ripped than I'd thought. The kind of arms that could snap someone's neck.
"You think we've come here to chit-chat?" He jerked his chin toward Akram. "I thought he told you."
My insides wiggled.
"Told me what?" My eyes darted to peer at Akram's face.
Akram's jaws clenched, muttering something under his breath.
Akmal replied solemnly in Arabic, pointing his thumb at me, as if I couldn't see him doing that. Ugh! I hated that I couldn't understand their language. The exchange prickled my stomach and a bubble of panic began to grow into a balloon.
This can't be good! This can't be good!
"Akram?" I squeaked, my breathing shallow.
Akram's eyes drifted to mine, an anxious gleam peeking through the swirls of cinnamon. "It's ok, Mel. You're safe here. Don't worry. You're safe."
A cold shiver took over my body when his comforting words contradicted his apprehensive eyes.
I stared at him, question marks blocking my throat. How could I not worry when I didn't have a clue what was going on? God! What did he hold back from me? Was this why he was beating himself up minutes ago? But why? What could his brother have possibly told him? It couldn't be a good thing, could it?
"Quite a softy, innit?" Akmal poked Akram's shoulder. "You should've touched on it."
"Well, you didn't even touch on it to begin with." Akram answered quietly, but a hint of aggravation boiled under the calm surface. His smoldering eyes were enough to give away his nerves.
"Need-to-know, bruv." Akmal crossed his pumped up arms.
"What's your deal, Akmal?!" Akram retorted, pushing his hair back tensely. "Laila told me in New York that you're working together, because she knew I'd trust you to handle this and now you're making me feel like a complete..."
"Akram! What. Is. Going. On?!" I clung to his arm with both of my hands, trying to make heads or tails of the situation.
Akram sighed, sweeping a hand across his face.
"I'm sorry, Mel." He turned downcast eyes to me. "Believe me, I wish I could explain everything, but I'm mostly in the dark. Akmal enjoys making me look like an idiot." He flung another glare at his brother.
"It doesn't tickle my fancy, brother," Akmal clarified. "but It's her business, not yours."
"So you decide to shut me out?" Akram scoffed. "You know SHE is my business!"
Akmal raised an eyebrow. "See? You seem to go barmy as far as the damsel's concerned."
My head began to spin. I supported it between my hands, as if to protect it from falling down on the floor. Despite the Aspirin Sophie had given me, the headache started to wedge itself back into my head, accompanied by the queasy feeling in my guts.
"Guys, guys, please! You're scaring her." Laila took a step closer, draping an arm around my shoulders. "Will you sit down, Melody? I'll explain."
My eyes fixated on Akram, who raked his cocoa hair, his eyes pleading with mine.
My heart was hammering as if a woodpecker decided to poke a hole in it.
Laila grabbed my hand gently and sat me down next to her at the end of the sofa. Akram slid down next to me from the other side, spreading his warm presence that smelled of coffee and cinnamon. Selfishly, I wished I could tuck myself into his arms and drift somewhere far away from reality.
Akmal paced in front of Laila, brushing a hand over her shoulder. "Get this sorted, luv. I'll have the footage ready."
I didn't miss the glimmer on Laila's finger as she touched his hand back. Both of their ring fingers were occupied. They wore matching, black and silver bands.
I chewed my lip as I made the connection. A twinge of something bitter passed through me, clogging my throat for a second. It was stupid, but... I think I envied them. Could I be more pathetic?!
Laila caught me staring and her lips curved slightly.
Confirming my thoughts, she fiddled with the ring around her finger and her cheeks turned pink.
Akmal towered above us like a giant - a debonair giant, I must admit - before he paced back to sit next to his brother, crossing one leg over the other into a confident figure 4.
"We need your help, Melody," Laila held my attention again.
"My help?" I frowned, staring at her angelic face. "With what?"
Akram's soft caress soothed the back of my hand. My muscles relaxed a fraction. It helped my jumpy nerves to have him close to me. At least I wasn't in trouble... I think...
"You may know someone we've been looking for." Laila crossed her ankles and turned in her seat to face me, her lips curved into a tiny smile.
"You mean... Vivian?" The name brought a lump to my throat.
"No, Melody. Vivian was just an underling. She was not our target," she explained. "She was supposed to keep an eye on you, make sure you don't leave her sight, and report back. She deviated from her mission when she made it personal."
"Report back to whom?" I asked.
Laila moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue - An agonizing moment of silence. There was something far worse than I'd thought. I could feel it.
The panicky feeling kept growing in the pit of my stomach.
"She worked for others, Melody." Laila's pretty face stayed neutral. "The others are looking for the same person we're searching for."
"Are they... looking for me too?" My voice was a whisper. My hand sailed to brush my neck.
She pursed her lips and looked down, like she was thinking of a nice way to break the terrible news. The answer was written all over her face.
I tried to focus on my breathing. I was already light-headed and losing more oxygen would probably cause me to faint.
"Why?"
"It's not you, Melody. It's the other person they're after. They believe if they get you, they'll be able to decoy him."
"But she's safe here." Akram fidgeted next to me and tightened his fingers around mine. He wasn't asking, but he didn't sound too confident. I could feel his tension streaming through our connected hands. He was hearing this for the first time.
"Yes, Akram." Laila nodded. "She's under the radar now. No need to worry."
"But that means..." I swallowed. "There's someone else out there who's in danger because of me. Who is he? Why do they think I know him?"
Laila pressed her lips together, her eyes flitting toward Akmal, then back to me. "Melody, have you accessed your full case records when you turned eighteen?"
I grimaced. It wasn't a comfortable topic for me. "My, uh, caseworker gave me the important documents."
"Did you request information on your personal history? Parents? Relatives?" she asked slowly, watching my expression.
My body curved forward and I started biting the tip of my thumb.
"It's ok if you don't want t--"
"What's the point anyway?" I interrupted.
"You have a right to know, Melody."
"Well, what if there's nothing to know?"
"How can you be sure unless you try?"
I wrung my fingers nervously. Was it hard to believe I didn't want to know? I had been unwanted for fifteen years. Abandoned and thrown away like trash. What difference could it make to know who had rejected me? Assuming there was actually anyone in the papers. It was just an absurd idea to imagine having a family waiting for me somewhere with hugs and roses. Nobody had even wanted to adopt me, and I didn't want to cling to a false hope anymore. I had outgrown that stupid hope a long time ago.
"I tried, all right?" I blurted out snappishly. "There's nobody in the papers. None. Zero. I came out of nowhere. No parents. No relatives. No guardians. None. How about that?"
Laila's eyebrows flew up, taken aback by my sudden defensiveness. Her lips parted, apparently to express some form of pity.
"Let's just cut to the chase, shall we?" Akmal interrupted with his booming voice.
My head snapped toward him, my defensive attitude melting away, replaced by ashamed regret.
Akmal squared his shoulders and stretched his burly arms all the way forward, cracking his knuckles. He had a fancy laptop placed on the coffee table, which was occupied by half-empty cups and a variety of sweet delights - the mark of Sophie's hospitality.
"Come sit right here, Miss Summer." He wagged his fingers at me, then glanced at Akram, a ghost of a smirk looming across his face. "You mind budging up, bruv?"
Akram rolled his eyes and rose up from his spot.
I peered at him pleadingly to soothe my nerves. I needed to find assurance in his eyes. They were dark and restless.
"What? Are you waiting for his permission? Tsk, tsk! I never thought he's that type." Akmal pursed his lips.
Akram's brows shot up, staring at his brother.
Laila cleared her throat audibly and warned, "Akmal!"
"Cut me some slack, luv. I'll make it up to you later." Akmal winked.
My face tingled as I stood up, afraid to stumble at any moment, but this time I tried to calculate my steps. I couldn't get myself more embarrassed than I already had, although Akmal's blunt attitude took care of that. I didn't know what to expect when Akram had mentioned him, but definitely not this. He was the complete opposite of Akram's personality. I had to remind myself he was on our side.
I sat down cautiously, watching Akram throwing flames from his eyes at his big brother.
"Sit down, bruv," Akmal commanded, "I thought you've gotten used to my sense of humor."
"Still struggling," Akram replied through his teeth and slumped back next to me.
I observed as Akmal inserted some disc in the DVD drive - or is it Blu-ray?- while Akram slid his hand to hold mine.
Akmal was focused on the job and it gave me a second to notice a dark spot on the side of his sinewy neck. It was the size of a quarter. A shape that looked like a lotus flower. It was much easier to look at him without meeting his acute eyes.
"It's a birthmark," he said.
"Excuse me?" I tensed.
"People think it's a tattoo, but it's a birthmark." He rubbed his neck. "According to the myth, I was stabbed in the neck in a previous life."
"Oh, I think I know the reason," Akram sassed.
His brother uttered an explosive laugh. "Clever one, brother!" Then he snapped his fingers at my face, pointing to the screen without taking his eyes off the computer. "Now look, Ms. Summer."
I flinched at his gesture, but I slowly leaned over the table, looking into the screen. It showed a familiar place from an unfamiliar angle. I had almost forgotten about the DVD from the café. Asha and I were on the screen, working behind the front counter, while the camera displayed the entrance and most of the tables.
Then she appeared!
"Here's Pennywise the dancing clown," Akmal noted sarcastically.
A chill ran down my spine, watching Vivian come to life again on the screen. A surreal, out-of-body feeling haunted me as I watched my own pathetic reactions when I had seen her enter the café months ago: freaking out and hiding myself, peeking from behind the coffee machine, smashing the cup when I'd seen her sitting with Akram at his table, then Akram following her outside, oblivious to her wicked plan.
My hands covered my mouth as I balled up my upper body, elbows planted on my knees. I was reliving the tormenting moment all over again.
The video paused and zoomed in on a customer standing at the counter.
"Do you recognize this man?" Akmal asked, back to sounding all-business.
"Um!" I froze up for a moment. "I don't know. Should I ?"
The man seemed old, from his hunched up stance and gray hair. I wasn't sure how old. His face was unclear from this angle.
Akmal fast-forwarded the video, and zoomed in on the same man, sitting at a table near the glass door. He pressed a couple of keys and the man's blurry features began to clarify. The details of his face sharpened as if he was sitting right in front of us.
"How about now?"
The man's gaze was fixed on the front counter. Something was so familiar about him, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Maybe he'd been a regular? I'd probably seen him a few times before when I'd left my hidden spot behind the espresso machine.
Those sad blue eyes!
He looked as if he'd been anxious about something. His facial expression was so intense that my heart ached for him.
Akram peeked over my shoulder at the screen. He mumbled something inaudible to himself, weaving his fingers through his hair.
"Do you remember him, Melody?" Laila's voice sang in the background of my mental trip.
"I... I think..." I squinted, my heart accelerating for some reason. "He looks..."
"Familiar?" Akram's voice cracked, winding his arm around me as if he feared I would jump up and head for the hills.
My eyebrows furrowed, turning to stare at Akram's face. There was shock in his round eyes and something else I couldn't explain. His gaze alternated between my face and the still image on the screen in complete bewilderment.
"This man's been on the run for fifteen years," Akmal explained, his voice low, almost sympathetic.
"Fifteen years?" I whispered, gluing my eyes on the screen to absorb the man's face.
Rapid flashes of memories sparked in my brain. I'd seen the man before. I was sure of it. Yes! I'd seen him at Mr. Valente's restaurant. He was the reason I had been fired. He had run without paying his check, which was taken out of my final pay. I could swear I'd seen him elsewhere too. Way before that. He'd looked much younger then. But where? Was he following me?
"He'd been hunted since he'd come to America to find his family," Akmal replied. "We wanted him. The bad blokes wanted him as well."
"Why?"
"He used to be involved in dodgy business back in his country. When he quit, it meant war against his superiors. They didn't fancy black sheep."
I caught myself shaking as I listened. I folded my arms tightly to hold my trembling body in place. "And... And you want to catch him too?"
"We're after the information, Melody," Laila cut in. "He was one of them. A valuable asset if he's willing to cooperate."
"What about his family? You said he came here to find his family." Akram's tone was urgent, so was his tight hold on me. He was determined to get answers on my behalf.
Laila exchanged a glance with Akmal and they both nodded. "Fifteen years ago, he transported his wife and daughter to the States to protect them from retaliation. When he'd managed to fly to them, he'd discovered that his wife had died in an accident, and his only daughter had gone missing."
Laila's face softened while she kept watching my expression. I could feel blood leaving my face as a dubious conclusion began to form in the back of my mind. A conclusion that defied reason and stopped me dead in my tracks.
The man was familiar. Too familiar to ignore the resemblance I saw every day in the mirror...
"I'm sorry," I choked, lurching up on my feet. "I think I need to lie down"
Somehow, I managed to scurry back to the room I'd woken up in. I shut the door and supported my back on its polished veneer.
I heard Akram knocking and calling my name, but for the first time, I didn't find the will to answer him. My lungs were too tight. My head was spinning. My legs gave way and I curled up into a ball on the floor, wrapping my arms around my legs. There were no tears. No sobs. Nothing. Like the nothing I had been for the past fifteen years.
The tightness in my lungs spread a numb sensation all over my body. My head sagged over my knees as the man's sad blue eyes haunted me.
As much as I didn't want to believe it, the dubious conclusion made itself a brick-solid reality, hitting me hard in the brain.
I knew who the man was! I just knew who he was!
He was the person who had started all of this chaos in my life... The person who'd made me a homeless piece of nothing since childhood... The person who'd made my life a vicious cycle of neglect and rejection.
And the same person who gave me life in the first place.
.
.
.
.
My father...
*****
Hello dear ones!
Wow! I actually did it! I finished the book!
If I begin to describe how I feel right now, I would certainly fail! It's been 8 months since I got stuck! I'm really sorry to keep you all waiting that long for the update. You've been amazingly gracious...
I hope you forgive when I say this is the end of book 1. I'm hoping to start book 2 someday soon, but I will need to take my time to edit this book and plan the second part carefully.
Please wish me luck! :D
Now question time...
*What's your personal conclusion after reading?
*What do you think about the Big Brother, Akmal?
*how long do you think Mel will stay with Akram's family?
*How do you feel about Melody's reaction? You think she guessed right who the man was?
*Any theories about this "bad blokes" behind Vivian and the man in the video?
*What do you think will happen next?
Thank you so much for sticking around till now and for every ounce of support you have shown me so far... You guys are absolutely amazing!
Much love
Most_Bay