‘TheHun.’
‘Funnily enough, it suits you this morning.’
Narrowing her eyes, Niamh gives me a faintly threatening look. ‘So why don’t you look like hard boiled shite, too?’
‘I didn’t drink much.’ I shrug. ‘I feel... apathetic about food and stuff at the minute.’
‘Ah, chick. You’re love sick.’ Hands clasped, she flutters her lashes, stopping when even that small motion seems to hurt her head.
‘Nah. It’s the remains of jet-lag, I think. It sucks big hairy balls.’
‘Wine might’ve helped you sleep and stuff.’
‘Doubt it. Anyway, I didn’t want to get loaded.’
‘Didn’t want to, either,’ she mumbles, laying her head against the cool marble bench. I slide over my plate of toast, making her recoil. ‘Get that the fuck away!’
‘Let the power of Vegemite compel you!’ It’s like smelling salts!
Niamh’s got a date with Rob tonight, but she stays until sunset, when she orders a cab. The weather has cooled quite a bit since I’d first arrived in Dubai, with early mornings and evenings starting to feel almost pleasant. It’s with this in mind that we decide to take a stroll to the compound’s gate, rather than have the cab pick her up at the door.
It only takes a few minutes and her taxi is already waiting when we get there. We’ve already made plans for a catch up soon, so with a quick hug and kiss—none of this European two cheek business—she hops into the back.
It’s peaceful as I walk back to the house, the last strains of the eveningahdan, or prayer, from the local mosque dissipating in the air. There’s not a soul to be seen, but as a bright yellow Camaro pulls alongside the curb, matching my pace, I begin to wish that there were others about. The windows are blacked out, so I can’t tell who’s inside, but whoever it is, they’re playing games, and I feel very unnerved.
Keeping my eyes front, I think its best that I get my half-jog on, especially as the house is in sight now. But when the window opens, and a waft of something semi-familiar drifts out, I find myself slowing in pace.
Is that weed?
‘Congratulations,habibti.’
Bugger, bollix, fuck.
The person I’ve been least looking forward to meeting. Ignoring him, I carry on, planting one foot after another as the house draws closer.
‘You don’t speak to your family now,cousin?’ Essam, the sneer evident in his voice. ‘That isn’t very polite.’
I can’t believe he has the audacity to speak to me. My stomach turns over again and again, my body beginning to shake with a mixture of discomfort and shock. But overriding these emotions is anger, because how fucking dare he. What did I ever do to him to deserve such hurt? Nothing, that’s what. I just happen to love the man he’s intensely jealous of. And happen to have been there when he was caught out.
My hands are balled into fists as I halt, turning to face him, my molars under enough pressure to crack. Essam slows the car to a complete stop, but the harsh words balanced on the end of my tongue immediately melt. Through the open window, I can see the back seat and I begin to laugh.
‘Real smooth,’ I say, still laughing. ‘You’re smoking weed with the baby seat in the car?’ Sans baby, thankfully, but still. ‘I bet you getallthe bitches, especially with this...’ I make a gesture towards the bright yellow muscle car, aiming for somewhere between dismay and disgust. ‘This...’ Over compensation? ‘Dick extension.’
Self-editing was never one of my strong points.
‘Why don’t you get inside,’ he says, one hand on the wheel, the other making to grab his crotch. ‘I’ll show you I don’t need any help.’
‘You need psychiatric help, for sure.’ I turn and begin to walk again.
My heart is in my throat as the engine stills completely. I don’t look back as a car door slams, but suddenly my feet are hitting the pavement faster. At any other time, I’d be worried how daft this motion looks—probably looks like my arse is chewing toffee—but I want to get away from him, without giving him the satisfaction of my fear.
The house draws nearer, and all I can think is,I’m almost there. Almost home. Surely he wouldn’t—not here?
I physically start as Essam’s hand grasps my elbow, and I whirl around, ready to lash out.
‘What the fuck do you want?’
‘That’s simple. I want what Kai has,’ he says, his free hand ghosting my shoulder, causing my whole body to shudder.
‘You’ll never have it,’ I spit out in the face of his shock. ‘You could step into his life tomorrow—own his cars, his house. His money, too. But it wouldn’t make one bit of difference because you’d still be you. You’ll never have what he has. Honour. Integrity. Respect. My love.’ With that, I yank my arm free, finally able to breathe as I take the last few steps to the house gate, yanking open the door and throwing myself through.
This is so fucked up.
