Capítulo 14: Chapter 14
Aarib's POV
Stupid idiotic fool.
That's how I would describe Haya.
I get it that I am not her first choice of a husband, but does that stupid woman not get how ruthless these mafia are? How cruel they can be? They wouldn't hurt me, but they won't hesitate in putting a bullet in Haya's chest.
I shiver at that thought, a new form of fury awakening inside me.
"I have to say, she's a very brave girl," Shehriyar, one of my only three friends comments, taking a long drag from the cigarette.
I don't make friends in high school. I don't trust anyone in my high school. You could call them friends or snakes, doesn't really make any difference. I met Shehriyar, his cousin Hatim, and a guy Sheru at a fighting club five years ago when the rebellious side of me had awakened. I was really into fighting back then, and although I still like it now, how the rush of adrenaline makes me feel buzzed, I have more important things to do in life.
Like, save Haya.
Hatim grins wickedly at me from across the room where he is perched on the sofa. "Man, you're in love. I can see the softness in your eyes at the mention of her name," he mocks, making everyone laugh.
"Piss off." I roll my eyes. They continue to snicker for another few seconds and I wait for them to be done before saying the real thing for which I invited them over today. "You're gonna be her body guards from now on."
The three of them get serious in a heartbeat.
"You're kidding, right?" Hatim stares at me with his big brown eyes, looking wolfish. "We get hired to guard—"
"So? I am hiring you. For Haya."
"But dude, have you even talked to her about this?" Sheriyar pipes in. "Is she okay with all of this?"
My temper hanging by a litteral thread. Would snap any second.
"Are you worried about the money?" I snap. "I'd pay you double than what you guys earn through one fight."
"You know it's not about the money," Hatim scoffs, rolling his eyes. "And do you really think we'd take money from you? Haya is technically your wife. She's definitely going to give you a hard time before actually agreeing to it. I'm just saying you should ask her first. Having two bodyguards with her all the time? I mean, man, what's she gonna tell her fam?"
Leaning forward, I grab the cigarette from Shehriyar, taking in a lungful. "She doesn't have to tell her family anything. When she's somewhere with her brothers, there's no need for protection. I mean, they should be able to protect her." Right?
"Your brother has guns."
"And he's also very good in hand to hand combat," Hatim adds in.
"Are you guys here to help me out or add more to the plate?" I mutter in anger. "That's not encouraging at all FYI."
"Talk to her." Hatim gets up and walks to me. "Convince her that she's being irrational and there's no way out of this. Tell her to stop being such a—"
I warn him with my eyes.
Instead of being offended, he smirks and holds up his hand in surrender. "To stop being such a nice girl." He laughs and runs away but not before I have thrown a cushion at him. "Can't wait for your wedding!" he calls out from the kitchen.
"Isn't Sheru taking a very long time in the bathroom?" I frown, remembering my third friend excused himself to the loo twenty minutes ago.
Shehriyar snickers clicking imaginary buttons in the air above his head. "Maybe he fell asleep or something."
"Or maybe he got constipated," Hatim jokes, returning from the kitchen with a bottle of water.
"Who got constipated?" comes the voice of Sheru who looks like he took a shower with his hair dripping water onto the fuzzy mat that my mom ADORES.
We all stifle a laugh.
"Dude, if my mom sees that you're getting water on her favorite rug, she might never let you come here again," I nod at him, motioning to the white rug with my thumb. Mom doesn't even let us boys sit in the living room, but because she is out and about enjoying with her only five friends, we're all lying here.
My phone starts ringing.
Confusion and shock courses through me. I don't waste a second before hitting accept, afraid she might be in some sort of danger.
"What happened, are you okay?"
Haya sniffs. "Aarib?"
I bolt up into sitting position. Everyone in the room falls silent and stares at me. My heart pounds madly in my chest. If anyone laid a finger on her. . .
"Hey, I'm here. What's wrong? What happened?"
She breaks into a full sob. "I don't know why I am crying. I just cannot stop crying!"
"Haya, tell me what's wrong," I insist her. Why is she crying? "Are you home? I'm coming over." I almost disconnect the line when her shrieky voice echoes in my ears.
"NO! Don't come here. It's just that. . .I just saw a bad dream."
"Haya!" I groan, falling back on the sofa and closing my eyes. This woman almost scared the crap out of me! "I thought something happened to you. Crap. You scared me so bad." I nod at my friends who looked ready to fight, telling them silently everything's fine, and leave the room to get alone.
"No you don't get it," she mumbles, a little less hyper now. She's also stopped crying. "It was that bad. I saw you hurt in my dream. Pretty hurt. I woke up crying."
The night wind envelops me in it's cool embrace, snaking around me, making me shiver a little. Should've brought my jacket with me outside.
I feel it again, that weird foreign feeling in my chest returns. "Mhmm? Just a dream. I'm fine."
She takes in a huge breath and I just listen to her silently. I think. . .I am actually falling for her. Crap. When did I let my guards down? How could I fall for someone? Developing feelings was one thing I promised myself I wouldn't do, and yet I broke the rule. Moreover, I think I also know what I feel when she's around or when I merely hear her voice.
"You sure you're completely okay?" she asks once again. It's like she wants to be convinced somehow, but my statement is doing nothing to help her get peace.
I kick a pebble with my foot. "Haya, I am okay. What about you? You feeling okay?" Last time I saw her in the morning, she was in a bad state. I wouldn't blame her, considering what I told her wouldn't have made anyone else less scared. She really is a brave girl.
Just not brave enough to marry me.
"Yes. . ."
I sense a but coming on it's way.
"I thought about it a lot today. I don't mind putting my life at risk—"
"Oh, I sure shot mind that," I cut her, suddenly furious. Is she even for real?
"—but I can't afford to put my family's life in danger too. There weren't any options I could come up with. . .but I thought of going to the police."
"And that's the most stupidest option you could ever think of." Going to the police? My father could easily get himself out of any police matter—or any sorts of trouble, and then he wouldn't think twice before killing Haya.
"Why—"
"Haya," I let the anger I feel inside of me be reflected by my tone. I think this woman doesn't understand a good gentle reminder. I have to be a little more aggressive. "You're doing nothing like that. This is just falling into a death trap. You might as well just present yourself to my father and he'd get rid of you." I pace the driveway, every fiber of my being wanting to bring Haya here. With me. Where I can protect her. Unfortunately, I couldn't just do that yet.
"So you're saying the police is of no use?" she whispers, an edge to her voice.
"Mhmm, that's exactly what I am saying."
"OKAY AARIB THEN WHAT IS YOUR MASTER PLAN?"
"You're shouting," I point out the clear obvious. "You're home alone?" She wouldn't have shouted my name if there were someone in the house.
"Yes, is that a problem?"
I still for a second, every scenario of danger towards Haya running through my head. Feroze could have already appointed his men to keep an eye on her, to know when she would be alone so he'd have the perfect opportunity to hurt her.
"Lock the doors," I suddenly blurt, rushing inside the house. "Lock the windows. Lock everything that could give access for someone to get in from the outside and don't open the doors for anyone." I nod at my friends who instantly get up, and tell them we have to go to Haya's right now.
"What? Aarib what is going on? What's wrong? Why do I hear like there's a gun being loaded?" she questions, her voice dripping with panic.
"Just do as I say. I'm on my way." I cut the call and turn to face my friends.
"It's the first day, and she's already in danger," I mutter aloud. "I need to go get my gun. Sheru, you stay with me. Shehriyar, Hatim, you guys get going." I can't waste any time is what I don't add in. I can't afford to wait. I have to make sure there's at least someone there with her while I grab the necessary stuff.
"She won't open the door for you," I inform them. She better not open the door for them, or she's really gonna have a talk with me. "So just park the car a little away from her house, just in case her family shows up."
"Kay. See you there," Hatim nods, the two of them immediately leave the house, the sound of the car engine burning a faint echo in the background.
I jog upstairs and into my room with my nerves frantic. I have no idea how I am going to protect her. And right now paired with the extreme stress and anxiety, I am growing more anxious.
My damn chest tightens.
Pull. To. The. Heart.
The heck am I feeling? This isn't me. I don't run after a girl. I don't care about anyone except my mom and the three friends I have. These four people are the only ones on my 'Care for' list. Who let me add another one?
I shake my head to get rid of the thoughts that can wait to be pondered over later. I was hoping there wouldn't come a time when I would have to use this shotgun I bought a year ago when I got the first hint of my father trying to contact me. Yes, I would use it.
On my own father? Yes.
Not to kill him. But to defend ourselves. Myself and my mother.
The gun rests peacefully in my closet drawer, oblivious to the fact what damage it can do. Does it know it can pierce through flesh and end lives?
I suck in a sharp breath and grab it, throwing the closet drawer shut. What has gotten into me? Wondering if a gun feels what it does?
This. Woman.
Haya is really messing with my head.
When I return downstairs Sheru is waiting at the front door, frowing at his phone screen.
"Everything good?" I ask as I reach him and he moves outside so I can lock the door.
"Yeah. My girl's giving me a hard time. Anyway, we should get going. Hatim texted they'll be at her house in five minutes."
We both jump into the BMW, me behind the wheel. I turn the engine on and press hard on the gas pedal, adrenaline pumping through my veins.
I told you, Haya.
You. Stupid. Woman.
I told her there would be consequences. She better understand me today or tomorrow could be worse.
Estado de energía semanal
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