Frantic screaming awakened Jane. She jumped out of bed and rushed in the direction of the commotion. Reaching Nessa’s room, she flipped the light switch on.
Pale-faced Nessa, her back melted into the wall, stretched out her arms as if in prayer for mercy or help. To the other side of the bed, a man lay on the floor with his face in a bloody mess. Mahsood stood over him, his black hair swept back and his jaw clenched.
Jane gasped. “Mahsood…Oh, my God!” She took a step back. Her heart rate sped up, and her muscles tightened. ‘A fighter must either stand on the other side of the room or clench the opponent in a tight embrace.’ Will had engraved the mantra into her memory. Jane backed off further until her spine crushed into the doorframe.
Not far enough. Nessa’s boudoir didn’t compare to the vastness of the studio. She glanced around. Mahsood’s figure blocked the exit for Nessa and her buddy, but she could still escape—run outside and leave them behind. Or attack first. Mahsood couldn’t be stronger than Hank and was probably untrained.
Jane inhaled and straightened her shoulders. Lowering her stance, she rushed at him, wrapped her arms around his waist, locked her hands in a Gable grip, and pressed her head against his chest. From this position, she could take him to the floor at any moment.
Mahsood’s chest heaved and fell, but his limbs didn’t move.
“Stop. I beg you.” She glanced up.
Black eyes met hers and slipped down to her mouth.
She swallowed and squeezed her cheek into the lightweight cotton of his shirt. The heat of his body warmed her skin. “Whatever they’ve done, it must be a misunderstanding,” she said.
“I know.” Mahsood rasped. His heavy palm caressed her hair and slid down.
Perhaps he’d thought they were burglars and now realized his mistake.
“This is Nessa. She was at the wedding. And this is…mmm…her friend who came to visit. They pose no threat,” Jane said.
“You don’t know him?”
Jane bit her lip. “Well…I don’t, but he’s definitely not dangerous. Look at him.” She shuffled to the left and nodded in the direction of the battered man who’d sat up but was still clutching his nose.
Mahsood’s eyes lingered on her, tracing her bare arms down to her legs and ankles.
She’d run out in the same clothes she’d been sleeping in—a long T-shirt that reached down to her mid-thigh.
He grabbed her forearm and pulled her behind him as he pivoted to face the guy. “Out.” Mahsood pointed to the exit with his thumb.
The stranger scrambled to his feet, collected his garments from the floor, and, with his head dropped, dashed passed Mahsood and out into the hallway. A few seconds later, the front door slammed.
Jane sighed. She moved out from behind Mahsood and smiled at Nessa. “Sorry for the hassle. Was he someone important?”
“Some guy from the club.” Nessa shrugged. “Don’t remember his name.” She climbed out of the corner and inched closer to them. Her lacy nightdress revealed her cleavage and the outline of her bright red panties.
Mahsood glanced at her and cringed. His gaze returned to the tips of his toes.
“I didn’t expect you to run into each other like this,” Jane said. “Mahsood, how’d you get in without a key?”
“You forgot to lock up.”
“Me?” Jane frowned.
Nessa coughed. “We might’ve gotten carried away.”
“Oh…” Jane gaped.
Mahsood pursed his lips. “Very nice.”
How awkward. She should’ve better handled Mahsood’s move-in and Nessa’s relocation, but with both of them always gone and not communicating with her, they’d left her no choice. Who would’ve thought they’d show up at the same time?
The doorbell rang.
Mahsood raised an eyebrow. “Back so soon?”
Nessa yawned. “It’s not him. He’s probably halfway to Georgia by now.”
“Maybe he forgot to get your number.” Jane chuckled. “Who else could it be in the middle of the night?”
The ringer went off again.
The last thing they needed was another fight. Jane gave Mahsood a once over.
He loomed over her, his features relaxed.
“I’ll get it,” she said and ran out. On her way, she grabbed a full-length robe from the bathroom. God forbid a man was on the threshold, and she was showing her ankles. Jane snickered as she sprinted to the foyer.
Mahsood trailed behind her.
Rough knocking shook the wooden frame. “Open! Police!”
“Gosh! Not that…” Jane bit her lip and glanced at her husband.
He nodded and stood to her side.
She unlocked the door. “Good evening, officer. How can I help you?”
A tall blond cop sized her up. “Evening, ma'am. We received a call about a ruckus in your apartment.” His thick mustache undulated as he talked.
“My friends acted a bit loud, but we won’t disturb anyone anymore. My apologies.” Jane smiled at him.
His stare proceeded to Mahsood and remained on him. “Your friends?”
“Uhum. We’ll be quiet from now on. I’m sorry for the inconvenience.” Jane’s lips were growing stiff, but she maintained a pleasant expression.
A walky-talky mounted on the man’s shoulder issued a hissing sound.
“Can I come in?” he said.
Jane hesitated. What would happen if she refused? They had nothing to hide. Better to get rid of all suspicions at once. “Please.” She stepped to the side.
Placing one hand on his gun, the policeman passed through. “I’m in, Johnson.” He spoke into the two-way radio, which produced a slurred response.
Moving sideways, he examined the living room and the kitchen. His tenacious gaze scanned the surfaces of tables, the couch, and the countertops.
Jane tensed up. They didn’t keep anything illegal at home, right?
The cop entered the corridor, stopped at Nessa’s bedroom, and peered inside. “Is everything ok, ma’am?”
Jane held her breath. Nessa wouldn’t say anything, would she?
“I’m fine, thank you.” Her roomie’s quiet words drifted into the hallway.
Of course, she wouldn’t. They’d been friends for too long.
After checking Jane’s bedroom and both washrooms, the officer backtracked to them. “All clear,” he reported to his invisible partner.
“It’s late, so please keep the noise down. Good evening.” He marched out onto the landing.
Jane bolted the door and leaned against it. That was close. One could never underestimate the concern of the well-wishers, especially the likes of their upstairs neighbors. At least the guy with the broken nose had scrammed in time. They’d gotten lucky. She looked at her husband. “We’ve escaped the clutches of justice for today,” she said and smirked.
Mahsood crinkled his nose. “Great. Get ready. We’re leaving.”
“What? Where’re we going?”
“Uncle’s house.”
“Why?”
“We can’t stay here with this…woman.”
Jane squinted. “Nessa’s my friend, and I’m not going anywhere. It’s way past midnight, for God’s sake.” She straightened up and stomped past him.
Mahsood followed behind, his tone soft. “Angel, it’s improper. Either we’re going, or she does.”
“I’m not kicking Nessa out.”
“I thought so.” He grappled her elbow and spun her around to face him. “Pack your essentials. This isn’t up for discussion.”
Jane hissed, yanked her arm out, and sped down the hallway. Living with Uncle Gafar and his multitude of relatives? Her inner introvert was horrified. She needed her space, her privacy, and the freedom to run her household the way she wanted. Jane slipped into her bedroom and slammed the door.
It swung back open and crashed into the wall behind it.
“And you won't hide here from me anymore.” His voice surged.
She wasn’t afraid of him. Residing with his family members scared her more. Jane sat down on the bed and frowned.
“I'm waiting.” He stood in the doorway.
He wouldn’t let her be, would he? She too could sit here till the bitter end.
He stared at her, unblinking.
Jane turned away.
A couple of minutes later, a screeching sound came from the walk-in closet behind her.
She jumped up, hastened in the direction of the noise, and froze.
Mahsood had found her old suitcase and pulled it down from the top shelf. He threw it on the floor, its front shell hanging open, scooped her entire wardrobe in one grab, and shoved it in. Shoes and sneakers flew on top. He paused, studying her black club stilettos, which she’d only worn once—to Nessa’s birthday party. He grimaced and snatched her flats instead, then closed the trunk, and pressing it with his knee, zipped. He rolled the baggage forward, and as he passed her, his fingers seized her wrist and propelled her after him.
“I'm not going anywhere.” Jane jerked back and latched onto the first thing she could reach—her drapes.
Mahsood tugged forward.
She pulled.
A deafening bang filled the space as the curtain rod crashed down onto the vanity, sending a cascade of Jane’s perfumes, picture frames, and cosmetics to the ground.
She gulped.
Mahsood released her hand and leaped in front of her, pushing her back with his arm.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Yeah…I think so.”
“Jane, what happened?” Nessa called out.
“Wait here,” Jane told Mahsood and rushed outside.
Nessa fidgeted in the passageway, her arms folded across her chest and her fingers wrapped around her biceps. She’d changed into some shorts and a T, but her feet stayed bare.
“We’re okay.” Jane exhaled and closed the door behind her. No need for Nessa to see their mayhem. Nessa had had enough for one day.
“I didn’t say it before, but I’m concerned your husband might be violent.” Nessa lowered her voice. “Maybe we should bring back the authorities.”
Jane looked down. “It’s a misunderstanding. Please. He’s a good guy.”
“Did you see what he did to that fella? He’s aggressive. And you’re alone with him. All that racket… Did you two fight?”
“Mmmm ... a little.”
“If he decides to hurt you, that is if he hasn’t yet…” Nessa paused and scanned Jane up and down. “You and I won’t be able to handle him. He’ll do away with both of us.”
“Nessa, no! Don’t call anyone. It’s my fault I didn’t tell him you’re living here, and I also caused the curtain rod to fall.”
Nessa shook her head. “That's exactly what all victims of domestic violence say. Blame themselves for everything. I'm worried about you.”
Jane clasped her hands in front of her face. “Please… This won’t happen again. I promise.”
“Even if I don’t call, the neighbors will. If they haven’t already. And believe me, this time he won’t get off easily.”
“You’re right.” Thoughts ricocheted in Jane’s head. “We have to get out now.”
Nessa sighed. “You know best.” She whirled around and walked back to her room.
Jane flew into her bedroom and grabbed her gym bag. She shoved her make-up inside, darted to the bathroom for her toothbrush and deodorant, and emptied the drawer with her undergarments.
Mashood, wide-eyed, tracked her every step.
“Hurry. Let’s go.” She dragged her luggage to the common areas.
He raised his eyebrows but didn’t respond. Instead, he sauntered after her, picked up his few belongings from the living room, and strolled onto the landing with his suitcase in tow.
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