Paige lifted her hand to rub at her temple again as she watched Chalah thoughtfully. Everything she knew of the other girl told her that Chalah was being honest. That she was simply trying to help.
“I don’t have to agree with my brother to love him, Paige,” she said regretfully. “And loving him doesn’t mean I have to let him get away with what he’s doing to you and Abram.”
“And how do you think you can help?” Paige sighed as she paced to the table and sat down wearily. “Neither of us have enough power here to protect ourselves, let alone our brothers. And you know that as well as I do. You should go home and be safe. If anything happens to you, you’re only going to make Abram feel as though it were his fault. He has enough on his conscience.”
“And you think Jafar won’t have enough on his conscience when he realizes the mistake he’s made?” Chalah hissed back at her, her expressive eyes burning with anger. “I came here to help, Paige. To help my brother and yours, as well as Abram. I need to know what to do.”
Paige’s eyes rounded in surprise. “And you think I’d know what the hell you can do?” she whispered fiercely. “For God’s sake Chalah, I haven’t been out of these rooms since the day I came here. I have no idea what the hell is going on or how to help anyone. I don’t even see Abram until after dark, and when I do see him, he’s exhausted. So why don’t you tell me what I could do.”
Chalah stared back at her in dismay. Then her jaw tightened and she stomped to the end of the couch before turning back in frustration.
“There has to be something, Paige.”
Paige gave her head a quick shake as she kept her voice low. “Go home. Go back to school. If Abram has to worry about protecting you as well as me, then it’s only going to fracture his attention further. He can’t afford that right now.”
And she couldn’t afford it. Losing Abram would kill her, especially if she lost him because of his affection, his connection—whatever the hell it was—to her.
He had come back to Saudi Arabia rather than defecting as he’d planned after the deaths of his brothers.
He’d been forced to return to Saudi Arabia as a personal favor to the Saudi Arabian ambassador to take pictures of suspected terrorists. When he’d managed to get back to the U.S., he’d had to return again because of the threat to her.
He couldn’t seem to break away from the bloody legacy his father was creating here, or the threat of death that resulted from the pleasure he found in sharing his lover sexually.
“Jafar didn’t used to be like this.” Chalah sighed in regret as her lips trembled with the painful emotion she was feeling. “He wanted to be an American. He wanted to have the freedom to do as he wished, as Khalid did, as he knew Abram did.”
“He knew Abram wanted to defect to the U.S.?” Paige asked.
“Paige.” Chalah stared back at her in bemusement. “Abram, Tariq, Jafar, and several other cousins planned to defect together. It’s been their plan since Abram’s first wife, Lessa, was murdered by Ayid and Aman. Jafar has always known his plans, because they made them together.”
“And Jafar would know exactly how to block every move Abram made.” She sighed.
“But Abram knows what Jafar is aware of,” Chalah pointed out. “It’s some sort of battle between them.” The other girl frowned in confusion. “And I can’t understand what started it or why they are at odds with each other.”
It was the same problem Paige had, trying to figure out what had changed Jafar since the last time she had seen him. She had been vacationing with her parents in Greece, three, perhaps four years before.
As she watched, Chalah’s expression turned somber.
“Jafar was a good man once, wasn’t he, Paige?” she whispered, grief flashing in her eyes for just a moment.
Paige looked away for a second wondering if she should lie, of if she should tell Chalah how she felt in regards to good men.
“Men are what they are,” she finally said softly. “They’re either born mostly good, or they’re born mostly bad, just like anyone else is, Chalah. But the bad is always there, and for most men, the good is always there as well.”
“For most men?” Chalah asked with bitterness. Paige could see the need in her eyes for an affirmation that there was a chance that her brother wasn’t mostly, or even worse, fully bad.
“Sometimes, some men are always bad,” she said gently. “And then, there are those good men, those really really good men, Chalah, who just want everyone to think they’re bad for whatever reason.”
“And then,” Chalah whispered, tears filling her eyes. “There are those really bad men who are really good at making some people think they’re good.”
Paige dropped her eyes and crossed her arms over her br**sts to hold back the pain she felt for the other girl, to hold back her need to comfort her.
She hadn’t decided yet, was Chalah the young woman she had once known? The future pediatrician with a gentle, loving heart, or was she one of those people everyone thought was good, but who for whatever reason, knew the evil inside her personally?
She lifted her eyes as Chalah sighed heavily. “Go home, Chalah,” she said softly. “If you really want to help Abram, if you really want to help Jafar, then go home.”
“Because you don’t trust me, and if you don’t trust me, then neither will Abram,” Chalah guessed.
“It has nothing to do with trust, Chalah, and everything to do with the fact that from the sound of it, you know more than I do about the entire situation. And I think you know that if you talk to Abram, then he’s going to tell you the same thing I did. Go home.”