I've been working from home today, Mr. Williams took pity on me after my trip to the hospital and said I could take as much time away from the office as I need so long as I still meet my deadlines. I've spent the morning writing, I haven't looked at the investigation yet. Yesterday was fruitless, Haider showed up before I could get any information and according to Emma they've got Nicky Barnes in police custody. Apparently, it took them all of a few hours to get him, that eagle tattoo being far too recognizable. So, there goes my shot at getting information out of him. Guilt knots my insides like a noose, what happened to Haider is my fault. Emma disagrees, she says that I couldn't possibly know he'd shoot or that Haider would show up when he did but I can't stop thinking about how Dastan looked at me when we argued. It was like he was staring right through me, his rage burning holes wherever his eyes landed.
I'd called Haider earlier, he seemed a little out of it but at least he was alive. Right now, I'm just glad he made it out of there. All I keep thinking about is the blood, there was so much. He'd gotten it on his hands, and then all over me. I'd asked the hospital to throw out my clothes because I couldn't stand to look at them a second longer, I'd freaked out so hard and Haider was still trying to keep me calm while he was bleeding out. Maybe Dastan's right, maybe I am bad for his family.
Knocking disrupts my descent into the rabbit hole. Weird, I wasn't expecting anyone, who could that be on a Wednesday at noon? I pull self-consciously on my cotton pajama shorts as another impatient knock sounds. There's no time to change clothes, so I get the door. It swings open to the most unexpected site: Dastan.
He's standing in the hallway outside my apartment, wearing that black leather jacket as usual. He looks tired, there are purple bruises under his onyx eyes, his hair is ruffled. His expression is stormy, and I'm instantly on my guard. Did he show up for round two? I get that this situation is hard for him, he almost lost his dad yesterday but I'm done letting him use me as his emotional piñata. "Hi," I say wearily.
"Can I come in?" his voice is hesitant and unsure. I nod and step aside to let him in. He's careful to avoid brushing up against me as he enters. I shut the door and turn to find him scanning the apartment curiously, like he's looking for something. He's staring towards the bedroom that's out of sight, the door shut. Connor, I realize, he's looking for Connor. He wants to know if I'm alone. I clear my throat pointedly and he spins around to face me.
"Did you need something?" I question, my voice cold and steely. I keep my spine ramrod straight and my hands at my sides so that I don't fidget. I'm not letting him off the hook that easily for yesterday. I watch the emotions slipping across his expression: surprise, approval, irresolution, discomfort. Whatever brought him to my door is definitely not something he wants to do.
"Dad's going to have to spend the next week in hospital," he begins. I just nod I'm not sure now is the best time to tell him I spoke to Haider this morning. There's no telling how he'd take that considering he told me to stay away from his family. "Mom's still in Ankara, and he doesn't want her to cut her trip short and get back here." He continues, rubbing his large hands on the front of his faded black jeans, his rings reflect the light filtering in through the window and draws my attention to his hands. That's a nervous habit of his. Why is he nervous?
I nod again, that makes sense. Haider hates people fussing over him and he probably doesn't want to ruin Zahra's one chance to see her family after so many years. Why is he telling me things I already know? I raise an eyebrow questioningly at him, prompting him to get to the point. He makes a sound in the back of his throat, "Right." The word is stilted and uncomfortable. "So, I'm going to have to take care of Zia by myself for that time." He explains, slipping his hands into his pockets.
"Okay," I respond dragging the word out. "So, you've come to deliver this update in person because your messenger pigeon has flown off with your cellphone?" I ask sarcastically. I know it's a little rude but I don't owe him politeness after what happened yesterday. Besides, I think I deserve to be a little petty after putting up with his behavior for as long as I have.
His eyebrows shoot up, and he moves one of his hands to grasp the back of his neck. Rubbing his hand awkwardly over the skin, he looks to me. His tongue peeks out to wet his lips and my eyes snag on the movement. "No," he says, reminding me we're actually having a conversation. "I need you to help me watch Zia." He rushes out.
I hear it all but the petty part of me sees an opportunity to make him grovel. "What?" I ask feigning confusion as if I didn't quite catch that.
He grits his teeth, then forces out again; "I need you to help me watch Zia." Then after a second, "Please." His teeth are clenched so hard, I'm surprised his jaw doesn't shatter from the force of it.
"Sure," I say breezily and see his shoulders sag in relief. "If you apologize for what you said yesterday." And now the tension is back. His eyes are on me again. The sticky tar of his irises sucking me in, drowning me. He opens his mouth to say something, probably some heart-hearted apology. "Uh-uh, on your knees." I gesture at the floor in front me with my index finger and raise a brow at him daring him to deny me.
He snaps his mouth shut, his expression turning dark, there's something excitingly dangerous in his face. He's working hard to keep it under wraps, I want to push until that leash he has on himself breaks. After a moments pause he drops to his knees in front of me, he's so tall that his head comes to the middle of my torso. "I think I like you better like this," I tell him, making reference to a long ago conversation. His eyes snap to mine, they're wide and incredulous. Clearly, he remembers too. I smirk at him. Not so fun when other people dig up things you'd rather leave in the past, is it Dastan?
I make a gesture for him to speak, and then cross my arms expectantly. "Kiera," he says sweetly, he's purposefully laying it on thick. He's mocking me, I don't much care. I still hold all the power in this situation. I look down at him with a raised brow, my mouth still pulled into a half-smirk. "My sweet, darling Kiera, please accept my humblest apologies for all the horrible, vile, untrue things I said about you." He says dramatically. I have to bite the inside of my cheek to hold back my laugh, I see him fighting a smile too. I make a contemplative sound and tap my fingers against my chin as if considering.
"Please would you do me the honor of assisting me with babysitting Zia?" he asks in the same melodramatic tone.
"Hmm, okay." I say on an effortless shrug. My smirk pulling into a full smile. Oh, he looks pissed.
"Okay?" he asks skeptically. He slowly gets to his feet, I watch his powerful body move for a moment. How is it that everything he does looks attractive? The strength of his thighs as he hoists himself to his feet. The way the denim of his jeans stretches over the muscle has my eyes following his movements. The diamond cut lines of his body captivating my attention.
I shake the thoughts from my mind, "Yeah, I already spoke to your dad about it this morning. There's a bag packed in the bedroom you can grab for me." I inform him. When I'd called Haider this morning he'd told me about Dastan's predicament and since Emma can't be away from work during the day, and I can technically work from anywhere it seemed like the logical choice. We knew Dastan would go to Emma first though and when she turned him down he'd have no choice but to come to me.
"Then what was all this about?" he scowls, making a haphazard gesture at the space he was just kneeling in.
"Oh, I just wanted to see you grovel." I shrug again. I can't fight the smile this time, I beam at him. He gives me an unimpressed look, "Totally worth it." I say and his eyes narrow. Get used to it sweetie, I'm done letting you walk all over me. We've both made mistakes and I'm not letting you crucify me for mine any longer. You can hate me all you want but you will respect me.
Riding shotgun in Haider's SUV while Dastan drives us to his house is one of the most uncomfortable situations I've ever been in. I use the time to lay down my ground rules. They all seem like pretty reasonable requests: No arguing in front of Zia, no leaving me with her for indefinite amounts of time (because of the memory thing), keep her distracted while I have to work. Dastan agrees pretty easily but I think that might just be because he doesn't want to upset me and get stuck babysitting Zia alone. Either way, I'll take the win.
A day in and everything's going swimmingly, although Zia's still a little upset. We had to tell her that her dad got sick and had to go to see a doctor but the fact that both her parents aren't around is making her a little bad-tempered. I keep her occupied with a constant stream of games. It's been working so far.
On Friday, I have to go out to interview a few employees at a museum that's got some big exhibit coming up. Dastan assures me they'll be fine for a few hours and since he's generally very good with Zia, I leave them to their own devices for the afternoon. The museum article interview runs long, there's a lot of detail going into the opening night of their exhibit; multiple displays, visiting dignitaries, famous guests. They give me two complementary tickets before I leave. I'll only be using one, I learned my lesson about bringing Connor along to work events. I'd rather not have a repeat of the Police gala incident. Granted, Dastan won't be there this time and the two of them have some kind of weird guy truce going on but I'm not taking chances.
By the time I get back to Haider's it's already eight-thirty, the city is just coming to life around me but the further I travel into the suburbs the sleepier everything seems. I forget, sometimes, that normal people don't stay up until they pass out from exhaustion just to avoid nightmares. Well, at least I'll be able to have a relaxing night, Dastan should have already put Zia to bed by now. Maybe I could order some take-out, watch trashy reality TV and turn in early tonight. It probably says a lot about me that staying in is what excites me, I guess I'm getting old. The thought makes me smile, there was a time where my weekends consisted mostly of partying but those were days when I could trust myself not to wake up naked in the back alley of a dive bar. Okay, so that hasn't actually ever happened before but it still could and with my luck it might.
My bad luck rears it's ugly head again when I walk through the front door, Zia's toys are scattered over every horizontal surface. Not just the horizontal surfaces, there's a stuffed unicorn-I think it's twilight sparkle from My Little Pony- hanging from the light fixture. There's glitter smeared across the wooden floors, a pink bow wrapped multiple times around the post of the lamp, and stuffed animals abandoned all along the mantle of the fireplace. Voices drift down to me from somewhere upstairs, it sounds like Zia and Dastan are arguing. Straining, I make out what sounds like Dastan, he's saying something like 'I don't care what you want to do, it's time for bed.' He sounds exasperated. Zia's reply comes immediately, "But the sky's awake so I'm awake. Now we have to play." I laugh, I can't help it. She just quoted Frozen at him. That kid is something else. Following the voices up to Zia's bedroom I find it in a worse state than the living room. There are toys and clothes everywhere. It looks like they got into a war over pajamas. Dastan's sitting in the comically small chair against the wall clutching his head miserably while Zia is sprawled across the fluffy pink rug next to her princess bed.
"Everything okay in here?" I ask, leaning my shoulder against the post of her door. Dastan's head shoots up out of his hands, his expression a mix of relief and terror. Zia screeches my name and bounces up, dashing across the room to wrap her entire body around my lower legs. "Hey princess, what are you still doing up?" I pat her head, but I'm staring daggers at Dastan. He gives me a sheepish smile that makes his dimples pop. Oh, no sweetheart, being cute isn't going to get you out of this one.
"Dastan and I had a candy party and now I don't wanna go to bed." She informs me, from this close I can see the sticky chocolate residue surrounding her mouth. Candy party? I'm going to kill him. He gave her candy, enough candy to keep her awake and apparently demolish the entire house in the process. Yup, he's definitely dead.
It takes three hours and fifty-one minutes to get Zia to finally go to bed. My eyes feel like they've been left out to dry on a New York City sidewalk on the hottest day of the year. Every time I blink it takes me a moment to remind myself that I've got to open my eyes again. I feel drained in the worst way, my body aching as I lumber down the stairs in search of Dastan, whose soon to be with the lord.
He's obviously feeling guilty because he's cleaned up the glitter and packed away all of Zia's toys, I find him standing at the kitchen sink, he doesn't acknowledge my entrance. He's either really preoccupied with washing dishes or he's hoping if he ignores me I'll go away. Tough luck. I look around and grab whatever's closest to me on the counter. It just so happens to be a half-empty glass of water. I chuck the contents at his stupidly perfect head.
"What the hell?" he exclaims, spinning around and raising a hand to his head in confusion. He's glaring at me as if I'm the one who's wrong in this situation.
"If I ever see you within two feet of a piece of candy ever again, I will hurt you." I say seriously, giving him a glare right back. He has the good sense to look admonished.
Then he does what is probably the dumbest thing he can do in this moment, he smirks at me. One side of his mouth tilts up and I see a hint of his tongue peek out. Before I know what's happening he reaches behind him and grabs something, then he's splashing water all over the front of my shirt. I freeze. The audacity, an indignant sound leaves my throat and he laughs, big and hearty.
I rush toward the sink and, quick as a fox, grab a bowl tossing the soapy contents at him. That shuts him up. Good. Only I've miscalculated and now he's spraying me with more water. What was meant to be a confrontation over his idiocy promptly devolves into a water fight in Haider's kitchen. At some point, it stops being about getting even and just becomes fun. We're both laughing, red faced and out of breath by the time we collapse against the cupboards. I heave a giant sigh and tip my head back, it lolls to the side and I catch Dastan's eye.
The instant our gazes lock we both burst into a fit of uncontrollable chortling. I haven't had this much mindless fun in a long time, it's gratifying to just exist like this with him. There's a bubbling feeling in my chest, sort of like when you shake a soda can before opening it. It's not wholly unpleasant. The entirety of his being radiates warmth and calm, I want to sink into it and float there for the rest of eternity.
The laughter slowly fades out and I offer him a genuine smile, I see the emotion reflected in his raven eyes. The little twinkle of mischief, the glowing happiness, and a gleam of something else. As I'm trying to analyze what that third emotion might be I see the change, the split second the reality of what's actually going on here crashes into him. I watch as his entire face closes up. One moment he's the Dastan I know, the next he's a stranger. Just like that, there and gone.
"I'll finish up here, you go to bed. You look tired." His voice weary and hollow, getting to his feet and turning to face the sink again. Well, that's as clear a dismissal as any I've ever heard. So much for progress. Sighing, I get to my feet again and head out the room without a backward glance, what would be the point. He's determined to shut me out, there's nothing I can do about that.
It doesn't stop me from thinking about it though, I think about it until I collapse from exhaustion some hours later. Long after Dastan finishes cleaning up, I hear him shuffle around in his room and then the entire house is quiet. Everything silent, except for my thoughts screaming about how I'm an idiot. How I ruined a perfectly good thing and I'll never be able to undo the damage one childish mistake caused.