Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 36965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 185(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 185(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
Metaphorically, I melt to the floor. There’s no picking me up. I’m done for as I realize that of the three of them, it’s not Ezra who could break me; it’s Dariyus.
I remain silent because I can’t trust my words. I don’t want to be trapped in their web.
Darius says nothing more. He moves past me, grabs the bottle of shampoo, and squirts it in his hands before lathering my hair.
I relax into his body as he massages my scalp. “I can’t remember the last time someone washed my hair. It’s nice.”
“I’ll wash it for the rest of our lives if that’s what you wish.”
We remain silent as he continues to wash my hair before lathering my body. His hands work over every inch of me. The act is so erotic, I could come from his actions.
He holds me in his arms as we stand beneath the water. I’m transported to another space where everything is calm, safe, and perfect. For now, I don’t worry about my past. I don’t think about my future. I simply exist in this moment with him.
He gets out of the stall and holds open a large, fluffy white towel for me. Water drips on the floor from his soaked body, but he pays no attention. There’s no concern for his comfort, only mine. He wraps me tightly and dries my body with care.
“You’re a regular Florence Nightingale,” I tease.
I stare at his reflection in the mirror, and his eyes sadden, the humor and lust replaced with something tragic. I want to ask him about it, but I don’t want to dissipate the bubble we’re in, so I remain silent and bask in whatever this is.
He leaves the towel covering my shoulders and wraps himself in another. “It’s getting late. Let’s get you to bed.”
Chapter 16
Dariyus
(Two Years Ago)
I never understood the saying “She looks like an angel when she sleeps” until now. I look at Briar in a perfect slumber, her mouth partly open and her long hair fanning the large white pillow beneath her head.
She asked a lot of questions before falling asleep, her eyes focused on the ceiling above her. I wasn’t prepared to answer most of them, specifically those regarding my family and how we fled Iran. Not that I won’t answer them. I will, eventually, but there’s a lot to unpack in my past.
I’ve always had a problem speaking about my past in Iran. It’s difficult to explain to someone that your mother, a woman who followed the rules her entire life, was beaten black and blue because she didn’t cover every inch of hair on her head with a piece of cloth.
Or how my devout Muslim father got slaughtered by the very government supposed to protect him simply because he disagreed with theocracy.
I can’t bear to relive how I watched my Baha’i best friend get his head bashed in fifty times with a baton for simply being a member of the wrong religion.
How do I explain my mother, sisters, and me being smuggled into Pakistan and how we prayed we’d be given entry into America or any other Western country that would give us asylum? Where can I find the words to tell her how I’d shake as I walked the streets of Chicago, thinking at any moment someone from the Iranian government would find us and force us back to Iran?
How do I describe my relief now that my sisters are no longer a burden to me because they are their own people with autonomy over their bodies? I’m no longer their keeper, ensuring other men don’t harm them.
I take one more look at Briar, sleeping peacefully before walking out the door and into Ezra’s office. “Who’s coming with me, and who’s staying with her?”
Ezra and Malachi turn to me. Ezra’s pensive as usual, but Malachi grins like a maniac. “Ez is staying. Looks like it’s you and me, D. Gotta make it fucked up, though. I don’t want you to just hang them. That shit is so boring.”
Ignoring Malachi, I turn to Ezra. “We’re killing Richard too, right?”
Ezra nods. “Dominic is at his place right now. I tried to be reasonable and called and offered to buy her. Pay the debt and have it be clean. They agreed. You two are to meet them at Richard’s.”
His desk shakes, and papers fly to the floor as I pound my fist on the mahogany. “We are killing them. I’m not paying off motherfuckers who treated her like she was nothing but a damn bargaining chip.” I turn to Malachi. “These motherfuckers can go painfully. No mercy for men like that. Not now, not ever.”
“We’re not giving them the money. I needed them at the same place at the same time.” Ezra walks around his desk and grips the nape of my neck, bringing my forehead to his. “Gut them like fish. I want them to suffer. To feel pain and beg for death before they see the grim reaper.” He turns to Malachi. “Do whatever fucked up thing you want. No holds barred, no limits.”