CHAPTER NINE

4: 00am

WHEN I made it to the room, Aman was sitting on the only couch in the room scribbling something on a book from whatever he was told by the person he was speaking to on the phone. He nodded at me as I walked past him to the bed and sat on one of its edges waiting for him to end the call.

However the call lasted a few more minutes and the only thing I was getting from the call were his occasional murmurings of 'yes', 'uhm' and 'no'. He didn't say anything else except he kept on scribbling on the book.

A feeling of déjà vu struck me at that moment oddly. I don't know if it's because of the way Aman was staring, unblinking, at me or the way his voice was sneaking its way into my heart in an almost familiar manner. I have absolutely no idea.

Thankfully, he said bye and ended the call, putting aside the pen and book in his hands on a table beside the couch forcing my mind back to the present situation.

"What in God's name is happening?" I asked straightforwardly. I am tired of the word games.

"I'm keeping you safe." He was staring at me strangely as if he couldn't believe that I was asking.

"You are?" I scoffed.

He didn't say anything just kept on staring at me.

"Pray tell, how is this-," I used my hands in an attempt to encompass the whole room,"- keeping me safe?"

"We are here, aren't we?" He looked away which only made me feel worse. The least he could do is stare at me in the eyes

"And here is?" Who was he kidding? Do I look like some pushover?

"Somewhere safe," he returned his gaze and our eyes locked.

"How is here somewhere safe?" I held his eyes.

"I don't see anyone chasing us. Do you?" He raised his eyebrows, questioningly.

"Are you forgetting that those people were chasing me because of you?" I couldn't believe the man.

He shrugged, "Maybe,"

Maybe?  "What is that supposed to mean?’’ I can't believe the man. What effrontery!

He stared again at me and in those minutes his gaze lingered on me, I was almost certain he wasn't going to answer. "It's better for you if you didn't know,"

"Why?" I insisted. I hated the way he simply decides things about me without even asking.

He looked away and murmured softly. "I'm sorry,"

I took in a sharp breath. He had befuddled my life and all he could say was he was sorry, who does that? But for the sake of my ma's supposed wellbeing, I swallowed my anger.

"I want to speak with my mom."

He stared back at me. "She is fine. I have people protecting her."

"I want to speak to her!" My voice bordered on hysteria.

"Soon."

"Now!" My patience was wearing thin and tears brimmed my eyes, I turned away, cleaning clear my eyes.

"You will, but just not now, okay?" And at my silence he asked again, "Okay?"

I ignored him. What is 'okay' about this whole nightmare? I thought bitterly.  Normal people meet handsome men, fall in love and live happily after, why is mine different? Here she was with a handsome man with more questions than she had ever had in her entire life. Falling in love was definitely the farthest thing from her mind.

"I know you don't trust me." And at my scoff, he went on, "Why would you? Nevertheless I'll still request you to please trust me," he pleaded his eyes boring into mine. He does that a lot too, holding a person's gaze whenever he talks.

"How can I when with each passing minute you prove to me how unworthy of trust you are." I attacked with my voice laced with venom. I needed for him to hear my rage. I needed for him to feel my rage.

He shut his eyes. "I'm just going to accept that you trust me and wait for you until you feel the same."

Like I said earlier; assumptions and conclusions. I glared at him ignoring his very existence. I shut my eyes and began playing pretend in my head. I never met Aman and I was a bestselling author happily married with two adorable kids.

Well anything better than being here with him.

* * *

"Reima?" I heard him call my name minutes later. I opened my eyes and looked at him. He was looking strangely at me

"Did you hear what I just said?"

I stared blankly at him.

"I said let's pray and leave. A car is waiting for us outside.

I looked at the clock, 5:33am and without a word, I stood and walked back to the bathroom.

On the sink was a new brush with a tooth paste. I had heard him walk out earlier and when he returned almost thirty minutes later, I had been too riled to look at him. I guess he went for shopping.

I opened the brush from its pack, spread on the toothpaste and began scrubbing my teeth with a force that almost felt like vengeance; I was sick and tired of him handing over things to me, sick of his meddling in my life and I want to go home.

My God, talk about been without choice. I've never felt so raw and helpless in my entire life. I felt the tears I've been hoarding fall like an uncapped reservoir and I let it allowing the fear and pain to run out wild.

Moments later, I washed my face and began to perform ablution taking longer time than necessary just to hurt him in any way. I despised him so much right now and want to cause him JUST AS much pain.

* * *

When I walked into the room, he had a prayer mat and a hijab ready for me. I don't know where or how he got them but with no questions asked, I put it on and stood behind him, following, as he led the prayers.

He spent at least fifteen more minutes making supplications after the prayer; it was mostly prayers for the deceased. His voice kept on cracking from time to time and I could swear I saw tears stream down his face but he'd turned away and wiped them off. He had ended the prayers with asking for forgiveness and guidance. I added a silent prayer for my mom's protection too before ending mine. I was worried sick about her.

We left the room carrying only the duffel bag he'd handed over to me earlier which now held the prayer mat and his black notebook. He insisted I leave my discarded clothes behind which I had done reluctantly.

I am still reeling though with anger and my blood boiling; I simply can't wrap around the thought of strangers handling my clothes and the thought of it alone makes my skin crawl.

However, just as he had mentioned earlier, a black Mercedes Benz was waiting for us. Its driver, a huge man whose face I couldn't see sat behind the wheels and apart from the initial murmur of 'welcome sir' he remained mute.

Aman said nothing. He simply has his eyes glued out the window ignoring us both. At a loss as to what to do, I closed my eyes letting myself relax. It was the only thing I could do anyway. Thinking was definitely out of the picture.

I fear I was already losing my mind.

* * *

I must have dozed off because I awoke to Aman tapping my shoulders softly. My eyes cleared immediately as I scowled at him. I hate it when people touch me.

"What?" I hissed softly.

"We are here." He said simply as he opened his side's door and stepped out. I looked out front, but the huge driver was nowhere in sight. I opened my door too and began walking behind him to a forest path which I guessed led to the house. However, I found myself staring behind me, not because I was hoping to recognize where I was but rather to see if I could at least have an idea to where they brought me. There was nothing behind except a long tarred road with trees lining it.

It looked like a very private property and I couldn't help but feel like we were intruding.

And yet I kept on behind him; trampling on dried leaves and listening to a symphony by birds. Aman didn't say anything about where we were going and I didn't ask. I was sick of asking questions to which no answers would be proffered.

However, I found myself stopping in track as soon as the house was in view. My feet were simply refusing to move and my eyes was clouded with shock. I know nothing was making sense all along, but this just tops it all. I just couldn't believe my eyes.

"We are going home, Reima," I heard Aman say but I was too taken back to do anything but stare openmouthed at what was in front of me.

Home?

Home, he said. What the hell is going on? It couldn't be. It simply couldn't.

What in God's name was really happening to me? I gasped.

Why?

This was an airfield and a helicopter stood, ready for take-off.