I was able to get a glimpse into Khaleel Abdul's world. It was glamorous, full of extravagant people and excitement and I was beginning to become partial to it. I didn't know if I could share this truth out loud. I didn't know if I could tell Khaleel about my brewing feelings for him. He might jump the gun and rush me into another relationship. I knew I wasn't ready for that yet, and to be perfectly honest, he wasn't either.
Khaleel's hand was still in mine and his beautiful brown eyes settled on me, refusing to budge. He could have anyone. There were tons of girls waiting for him inside the hall but he was out in the courtyard, saying he wanted to date me. It was flattering and alarming all at the same time. He claimed my other hand and turned me to face his. He wasn't smiling. His looked serious and determined.
"I'm not crazy," he said. "I know that. I know deep down inside, way deep down, that you like me. I just know it. And if you could admit it then I wouldn't have to feel like a loser."
Goosebumps covered my legs. "You're not a loser. It's not all in your head—"
He grabbed my waist and pulled me close. My eyes widened as he leaned his head down to meet mine. "I wanna kiss you," he breathed.
I swallowed hard. "That's not a good idea."
"But I'm so fucking tempted to," he said, reaching his fingers to stroke my cheek. "You're right where I want you, close to me and you smell so good. Let me have a little taste, Hoffman."
I blinked, ready to let the kiss happen. How could I not when he was so enticing with his words? His mouth hovered over mine, the anticipation breaking every cautious bone in my body. I reached for his neck and wrapped my arms around it. My lips barely grazed his when a loud noise broke us up.
"For fuck sake!" Khaleel grumbled.
His head whipped back as he held my hand again. We both rushed towards the water fountain, hoping for some privacy but our plan quickly backfired. We could hear loud and obnoxious voices in the near distance. We peered out to see who was disturbing our precious moment. It was Khaleel's cousins. The scary-looking ones. They were passing a flask around and making jokes about Khaleel's father and his step-mother.
"How long do you think this marriage will last?" the tallest of them spoke, chugging the contents of the flask. It had to be alcohol. What else could it be? He was nice to look but his attitude was a huge turn-off. "It's not the first time he's picked a new woman."
"It's the first one he's married since Dunia Taaye," the shortest of the three said. He had a scary face and wore a blue and white kurta. "She's probably rolling in her grave. Both Taaya and Khaleel are such fucking failures."
His grip on my hand tighten. I turned up to find my date fuming. This was not good. If his cousins continued on like this, Khaleel's bad temper might cause him to wreak havoc.
"Khaleel Abdul," the last boy said, spitting in the garden. It was more than a little disturbing. The poor plants didn't deserve that kind of treatment. "Once this wedding ends, I'm going to kill him with my bare hands. Relative or not, that little shit needs to be put in his place."
I pulled on Khaleel's arm as hard as I could and hissed at him to stay cool. Just then, a shadowy figure loomed behind the three idiots. The man stepped into the light and revealed himself. Kumar was heaven sent. Khaleel stopped struggling and watched his uncle approach the jerks in his place.
"Hey!" he barked at them.
The idiots whipped back to lock eyes with Yusuf Abdul's right-hand man. I didn't have to see the expression on their faces to know they were ready to pee their pants. Especially, the tall and pretty idiot. He practically jumped to stand behind the short guy.
"Give it here," Kumar said, eyeing the flask.
The pretty boy gave it up easily.
"Drinking at a wedding," Kumar glared daggers. "How disgraceful. You think the rules don't apply to you because you're in a foreign country? Shall I remind you how guests should behave when they are fortunate enough to be invited? Shall I take the time to teach you what happens when you talk ill of my people—my family?"
"They're our family, not yours," the angry boy retorted. "You're just the hired help. Act like it."
Kumar closed the gap between himself and the speaker. He reached his hand out to pat the boy's face first and then moved up to his head. Kumar grabbed a chunk of the boy's hair and pulled on it so hard, he had no choice but to fall on his knees. The other two didn't dare to intervene, not while Kumar's deadly aura claimed the space.
"They're so fucking dead," Khaleel laughed, his shoulders relaxing. His intense eyes were glued to the scene, hungry to witness the bloodbath. My heart panicked a little. How could I forget that this was also part of Khaleel's world? The aggression, the violence and the thirst for vengeance. I feared it at Jackheights but it had followed me out of school grounds.
Kumar hunched over to make sure his target could hear him. "If you so much as look in Khaleel's direction while I'm around, I'm going to make sure the only parts of you that return to Pakistan are the ones I cut up to feed the dogs. Do you understand?"
"Please, stop!" the pretty boy pleaded, as Kumar kicked his target in the stomach. "He's sorry, sir! Really, he is!"
The shortest one rushed in with an attempt to hit Kumar but was punched to the side of the head and tossed across the pavement. "Leave," the scary man said. "And keep your hands to yourselves, if you know what's good for you."