“I’ll fly back in a few weeks,” he said, trying to sound calm. “To Detroit.”
He felt her fingers in his hair. “It’ll be even harder for me to see you in Detroit than it is here.”
He lifted his head, hearing the flat, hopeless quality of her voice.
“Don’t give up, Laila.”
He saw her throat convulse and thought maybe that invisible, choking hand had transferred to her. He pressed his mouth to her neck, her small moan of misery vibrating into his lips. Her arms surrounded him, beckoning him to her. He rose up over her, seeking her mouth. The sound of several car doors slamming—three or four in quick succession?—reached his ears. His head jerked around.
“What was that?”
“I don’t know,” Laila whispered.
He rolled off the bed. Jerking up his jeans and underwear, he hurried over to the window and drew back the curtain. Four tall men were walking in the driveway toward the house. They didn’t speak. Something about their somber intent and rapid, long strides sent an alarm going off in his head.
“Shit,” he muttered.
“Asher?” Laila called from behind him. “Who is it?”
He turned to her. The grim reality of the situation had settled on him like a lead jacket, grounding him in the inescapable moment.
“I’ve never seen your family before, but I’m guessing it’s them. Or at least four of the guys in the family.” He waved toward the window. She rushed across the room. She peered cautiously out the window, and then stepped back, her face frozen in shock.
“It is them. My father, my uncles and Zarif, my cousin,” she whispered, disbelief making her voice sound hollow. “How in the world—”
He grabbed her shoulders. She glanced up at him, startled.
“Tell me one thing, and be honest, Laila. I’ll know if you’re lying. Are they going to hurt you?”
Her blank stare told him she wasn’t computing his meaning. “I won’t let them see you, if they’re going to hurt you in any way,” he clarified. The muted sound of knocking on the front doors reached their ears. He shook her softly. Her glazed eyes sharpened on him. “Are you going to be safe?” he demanded.
“Of course I am. My father would never hurt me in any way, no matter how furious he is.” Her lips trembled, as if she’d just heard what she’d said about her father’s fury.
The knocking below them grew louder . . . more insistent.
He cursed bitterly, seeing no way out of the situation but to face it head-on. He finished buttoning his jeans and led Laila over to the bed to retrieve her underwear.
“What are we going to do?” she whispered after she’d scurried into the panties he handed her.
He smoothed her hair, then took her hand in his. “We’re going down to meet them.”
• • •
Laila couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t understand how Asher seemed so calm as he led her down the stairs.
“Who the hell is that?” someone said.
Laila realized it was Rudy, standing in the entryway and peering through the cut-glass windows on the double front doors. Someone on the other side pounded extra loud, making Rudy start back in alarm.
“Open up. Now!”
“Laila.”
Laila started at the sound of her father’s bellow.
“Stand back, Rudy. It’s Laila’s family,” Asher said. He flipped several light switches in the foyer. Rudy stepped away from the door, looking confused. Laila could tell by his surprised glance at her that he hadn’t even realized she was in the house.
“Asher.” It was Jimmy, just entering the foyer. “Don’t you think—”