Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 66062 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66062 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
“Dad!” Aiden snapped, shaking his head frantically. “Don’t do that—you’re better than that!”
His father didn’t even glance at him, glowering at Zain. “Normally, I would never use such barbaric, discriminatory laws to threaten anyone with exposure. But to protect my son from a predator, I will. Don’t think I won’t. Stay away from him.”
His face expressionless, Zain wrenched himself free and walked to Aiden’s father. He said something, very quietly.
Aiden’s father’s lips thinned, something like discomfort flickering in his eyes. But his voice was still firm when he said, “Leave right now and never come back. My son doesn’t need you in his life. Aiden, tell him.”
When Zain turned to Aiden and looked at him searchingly, a lump formed in Aiden’s throat.
God, I love you.
It was the worst possible moment to realize that, but he could no longer remain in denial when above all, he wanted Zain to be all right. He cared more about Zain being safe than he cared about his own happiness.
It was said that when you really loved someone, you wanted that person to be safe, healthy, and happy, even if it was without you. Aiden had always scoffed at that, not believing that anyone would be that selfless.
But now he understood.
Any relationship between them would be extremely dangerous now that Zain was married to the daughter of the President of the UAE. Al Sharabi would have him killed or thrown in jail if Zain left his daughter to be a sodomite with Aiden. Anything between them was impossible now, even without Aiden’s father’s threats.
“Go,” Aiden whispered.
A muscle jumped in Zain’s jaw. He didn’t move.
“Go,” Aiden croaked out louder. “This isn’t real. It’ll pass. I don’t need you. Stop ruining my life.” He wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince, but it seemed he sounded far more convincing than he felt.
Zain’s expression closed off.
He gave Aiden a long look before giving a clipped nod and turning away.
A horrible, gurgling noise tore from Aiden’s throat as he watched Zain go. His throat hurt, his heart hurt, his very soul hurt. He felt like an old man who had taken a beating. He wanted to run after Zain and beg him to stay, and damn the entire world.
His mother’s arms tightened around him. “Shh, darling,” she said, kissing his head. “You did the right thing, sweetie. You have closure now. You can forget him and move on.”
As Zain disappeared out of his sight, Aiden clung to his mom and wept.
Interlude III
This isn’t real. It’ll pass. I don’t need you.
Zain took a swig from his bottle of Scotch, staring unseeingly at the brightly illuminated city. It was nearly dawn already.
He felt bone-tired, but he knew that going to bed would be useless. He couldn’t sleep, and the demon of a cat wasn’t even the reason.
The hour was too early to be drinking. To be fair, there was no hour appropriate for drinking for any decent Muslim.
But then again, he wasn’t a decent Muslim, hadn’t been for years. In decades. There was already a place reserved for him in hell; Zain had made peace with it a long time ago. A decent Muslim wouldn’t spend a year in a sordid relationship with another man—or at least would feel guiltier about it. A decent Muslim would touch his own wife. A decent Muslim would be performing a dawn prayer right now instead of getting drunk.
A plaintive meow snapped him out of his grim thoughts. He glared at the cat rubbing against his ankle.
“Go away,” Zain bit off in English. He shouldn’t even be still using English for its sake. He should have thrown the cat out instead of bringing it with him when he had relocated to the city.
The cat didn’t obey, of course. It was Aiden’s fault. He’d spoiled it rotten, conditioning it to his constant touch and warmth. Of course it was now miserable.
Zain glared at the cat’s hazel eyes. “Go. Away. Or I’ll kick you.”
The cat rubbed against his ankle again, meowing.
“Stop being pathetic,” he told it harshly. “If he wanted you, he would have taken you with him when he left.”
He still remembered finding the blasted cat by a puddle of blood when he’d entered the house. His heart had about stopped before he registered that the blood—and the body—wasn’t Aiden’s. He remembered feeling profound relief, as if it was totally fine that all of his staff had been murdered as long as Aiden wasn’t one of the victims. It had been hard to care about his employees’ deaths compared to Aiden missing. The latter should have been trivial compared to the former, but it was the other way around for him.
Did that make him a monster? Probably.
Zain had no delusions about his morals. He’d done some things that didn’t skirt the boundaries of ethical conduct so much as trample all over them. But he’d never considered himself a bad man, either. Just a regular flawed human being. A regular kind of asshole, as Aiden would say, smiling at him fondly.