And my heart stopped.
Her face was destroyed. Swollen eye, already turning purple-black. Busted lip, crusted with dried blood. Bruises on her cheekbone, her jaw, her neck. Like someone had used her as a punching bag.
Because someone had.
“Oh my God.” I dropped to my knees in front of her, my hands hovering over her face, afraid to touch her. Afraid I’d hurt her more. “Mehar. What did he do to you?”
She just shook her head, fresh tears spilling down her battered cheeks. Couldn’t speak. Could barely breathe through the sobs.
“I’m going to kill him.” The words came out low. Cold. A promise, not a threat. “I’m going to find that sorry excuse for a man and I’m going to kill him with my bare hands.”
“Zainab—” Mehar’s voice was barely a whisper.
“No.” I grabbed her hands, squeezing tight. “You’re not going back there. Ever. Do you hear me? EVER. That part of your life is over. I don’t care what I have to do—you’re never seeing that man again.”
Prime crouched down beside us, his presence solid and steady. When he spoke, his voice was calm but firm.
“I have a beach house out in North Beach. Right on the shore. It’s quiet. Private. Nobody knows about it except my brothers.” He met Mehar’s swollen eyes. “You can stay there as long as you need. Until you’re ready to figure out your next move. I’ll cover everything.”
Mehar looked at him, then at me, confusion mixing with the pain on her face. She didn’t understand why a stranger would offer her so much. Didn’t understand that this man would move heaven and earth for anyone I loved, simply because I loved them.
“It’s okay,” I told her softly. “He’s family. You can trust him.”
She nodded weakly, and Prime helped me get her to her feet.
We walked out of Union Station together, my arm around my sister’s waist, holding her up when her legs threatened to give out.
Ahmad was a dead man. He just didn’t know it yet.
The driveto North Beach took about an hour.
Mehar slept most of the way, her head against the window, her breathing shallow and pained. Every few minutes, she’d whimper in her sleep, and I’d reach back and squeeze her hand, letting her know she wasn’t alone.
The beach house was stunning. A sprawling modern mansion, all glass and white wood, sitting right on the shore like something out of Architectural Digest. Six bedrooms, a wraparound deck, and a view of the Chesapeake that went on forever.
Prime carried Mehar inside while I grabbed the first aid supplies from his car. By the time I got to the bedroom, he’d laid her on the bed and was pulling off her shoes.
“I got her,” I said. “Can you get some ice?”
He nodded and disappeared into the kitchen.
I sat on the edge of the bed and started cleaning Mehar’s face as gently as I could. She winced at every touch, but she didn’t pull away. Just lay there, staring at the ceiling, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes.
“What happened?” I asked quietly. “What set him off this time?”
For a long moment, she didn’t answer. Then, in a voice so small I had to lean in to hear it:
“He found the pills.”
My stomach dropped. The birth control. The secret she’d trusted me with at the hospital.
“Mehar…”
“He went through my things. Found where I hid them.” Her voice cracked. “He called me a deceiver. A liar. And of course, a whore. Accused me of cheating on him and that’s why I was taking birth control. Said I was denying him his right as a husband. And then he just… he wouldn’t stop hitting me.”
The rage that surged through me was so intense I had to close my eyes and breathe through it. This man had been trying to impregnate my sister against her will. And when he discovered she’d been protecting herself, he’d beaten her half to death.
“You did the right thing,” I said, my voice shaking. “You hear me? You did the RIGHT thing. Don’t ever feel guilty for protecting yourself.”
