Chapter 12
Like sand through an hour glass, or some such crap...
It was only a matter of time.
Samir knew he would be leaving this country and his father shortly. If he hadn’t been certain before, he was now, after seeing Hakim and Daoud, his grandfather’s men, hovering behind the merry-go-round, watching for an opportunity to grab him.
That was why he started fighting with that boy. Not that the jerk didn’t deserve a beating, but Samir sensed that the two Afghan men were about to pounce. This way Samir drew a crowd, preventing them from taking him without notice.
But Samir was no dummy. The time would come soon.
And his grandfather was going to be so maaaaad.
He would blame him for leaving the country.
He would say that he could have fought his father and escaped.
He would say he was a stupid American. He would say his father was a killer and his mother a whore.
What would his punishment be this time? No food for days, probably.
Much shouting and insulting, for sure. But the whip? Would the whip be used?
He shivered.
“Hey, kid!” his father said, still holding him. “You’re shaking. It’s over now.”
For a brief moment, Samir allowed himself to be held, nestled against his father’s broad chest, his face buried against his neck which smelled of shaving cream and soap. Then he pulled away and said, “I’m hungry.”
His uncle Danny groaned behind them, then tousled his hair. “Kid, you must have a tapeworm.”
“I am hungry, too,” Britta said.
He smiled at the lady who was big as a tree but told good stories.
“So, what’ll it be this time?” his father asked, setting him back on the ground.
He pulled at his shorts and wiggled his butt. Those stupid underpants were up his crack, again.
“Cotton candy,” he and Britta said at the same time.
If you think that’s crazy...
Britta and Sammy had eaten so much cotton candy, they were probably going to piss pink.
But it had been a good day, Zach decided, as they left the Disneyland park. Even if he hadn’t gotten to screw Britta’s brains out, as had been his original plan.
There was hardly room for anyone to sit with all the stuffed animals and other crap he and Danny had won. He’d earned some dad points with Sammy when he showed him how to hold a rifle at the pigeon shooting game.
He’d lost a few points with Britta when he rocked their seat at the top of the Ferris wheel, asking, “Do I rock your world, baby?” She didn’t punch him that time, though.
It was barely five o’clock as he drove back toward San Diego, but Britta, Danny and Sammy were dozing.
A long day in the sun. And a lot of walking.
He wouldn’t offer to stop for dinner. Hell, they’d had hot dogs, cheeseburgers, French fries, waffle cakes, pizza, popcorn, fudge, and ice cream in the course of their day.
He wasn’t a gung ho health nut, but he hadn’t eaten so much junk food since he was a kid.
Britta moved restlessly and she turned to look at him through slitted eyes. “Are we almost there?”
“Pretty soon.”
She shocked the hell out of him then by reaching over and lacing her fingers with his.
A bit choked, he said, “I’m crazy about you, babe.”
She frowned. “Dost mean I turn you demented?”
He laughed. “You could say that.”
“Then I am crazy about you, too.” With those words, she closed her eyes and fell asleep again.
And thus a thousand-year-old woman managed to rock his world.
He lured her with the ultimate female temptation...
Britta was sitting at the scullery table, playing a game called poke-her with Danny, whilst waiting for Zachary to take her back to the base. He was upstairs putting an exhausted Sammy to bed.
“How long have you known my brother?” Danny asked the question, then took a drink from a long-necked amber bottle of mead.
She was sipping from a glass of the same substance, Danny having told her that ladies usually drank from glasses, rather than long-necked bottles because it gave men wicked ideas.
Whatever that meant! And was it not odd that glass was squandered in this country for mere drinking vessels, when a horn or wooden mug would do as well?
It must be a prosperous country, indeed.
“Um, two years, but I have not seen him in all that time till this past sennight. I have three of those asses. Are they worth more than your three kings?” They played games in her country, too.
Dice and the board game hnefatafl, but ne’er had she heard of games using hard parchment “cards” with pictures and numbers on them.
They would wear out too easily to last long, she would think, but then this was a wasteful country.
“It’s aye-sez, not asses,” he said, smiling at her.
“But, nope. Kings beat aye-sez. I win.” With a mischievous grin, he drew the round chips toward his already impressive pile, and began to shuffle the cards again.
Then he studied her for a moment, as if an idea had come to him, unbidden. “Aha! So, you’re the one.”
“Which one?”
“Zach hasn’t been the same since he came back from Norway two years ago.”
For some reason, she felt pleased at that news. “How is he different?”
“For one thing, he’s more selective in...” He let his words trail off, mayhap having second thoughts about disclosing such intimate details about his kin.
“More selective in which women he swives?” she finished for him.
Danny choked on his mead, spraying the table. After he got a cloth and wiped the table and the cards off, he studied her with speculation. “You talk peculiar.”
“Hah! Methinks you are the one who talks peculiar.”
“Touché! No, I wouldn’t say he was more selective about who he got involved with. He was always picky that way, and let’s face it, with a face like his, he always gets the pick of the crop. No, he cut way back on...um, relationships, period.”
She narrowed her gaze at him. “Surely you are not saying he became celibate.”
Danny laughed. “Hardly. But he stopped setting world records.”
“As if that is an achievement to be lauded!”
“You’re pretty hard on Zach. Why is that?”
“My father and brothers were evil fornicators. They tupped every girl or woman who caught their eyes, willing or not. Bastards abounded, so many I lost track years ago. In their opinion, women were property, their only worth in the breeding of heirs and coin for the daughters from prospective husbands.”
“Wow! And you place Zach in that same category?”
“Well, nay, but ’tis best for a woman to steer clear of comely men with the morals of a goat.”
Danny laughed and reached across the table to squeeze her hand. “Babe, you are gonna be so good for my brother. Don’t be so hard on him, though. There’s a good reason why we’re both so screwed up. We come from a dysfunctional family.”
“Diss-what?”
He smiled. “Screwed up. Broken. Our mother, divorced long ago from our dad, and our grandmother are like female Attila the Huns. Our grandfather is a pole-up-the-ass rigid military man. Our father has been married five times. Right now, he has a girlfriend who’s practically a teenager.”
Britta shrugged. “The more danico. Many wives. We have that in my country, too. I knew one Viking jarl who had four wives, eight concubines and ten female thralls to serve his needs.”
Danny’s eyes went wide. “Not all at once. My father divorces one before marrying another. Geez, where are you from?”
“The Norselands,” she answered, though she could see it was not explanation enough for him. “So, mayhap Zachary has learned his lessons from his father?”
“Zach is no way like Dad, and you’re a fool if you can’t see that.”
“Your defense of your brother is commendable. I was not being insulting, just seeking explanations.”
“Listen, bottom line: Zach has...or has had...so many women for one reason only. He can.”
“Are you talking about me?” Zachary said, coming into the kitchen and sitting down in an empty chair.
Britta and Danny both smiled, not about to disclose their conversation.
“What are you playing?” he asked.
“Strip poker,” Danny said.
Zachary glared at his brother, but she was not sure why.
“Will you take me back to the base now?” she asked Zachary. “Your brother is here to watch Sammy. There is no excuse.”
“Do I need an excuse?”
“Um, I think I’ll go shave, maybe go down to the Wet and Wild for a little action,” Danny said, rising. “If you want, I can drop Britta off on the way.”
Zachary looked at her and took her hand.
“Don’t go,” he urged. “You don’t have to muster till oh-five-hundred.
I can get you there in plenty of time.” Meanwhile, his thumb drew circles on her palm, which caused the fine hairs to stand out all over her body, deliciously so.
She felt light-headed with instant arousal.
“How do you do that?” she asked.
“Do what?”
“Make me want you.”
He smiled, one of those glorious you-please-me-sweetling smiles that would melt even the chastest maid. “Stay with me. Please.”
“Why?”
“Because we won’t have any private time for the next three weeks. Because I don’t think I can stay away from you that long. Because I’ll risk my career and yours if I go sniffing after you on duty.”
She couldn’t help but smile. “See. I told you that you have a habit of sniffing.”
He squeezed her hand in admonition for her teasing. “Will you stay?”
As much as she wanted to, she hesitated. “I am fearful.”
“Of me?” He was clearly shocked.
She shook her head. “Nay. Of myself. I cannot grow too attached to you because no matter what you or Hilda or the others say, there is always the chance I will be sent back.” Or you will move on to some other woman.
He nodded in understanding. “Just like Sammy.”
“Huh?”
“Sammy tries his best to hate me, or pretend to hate me, because he’s convinced that I’ll either send him back or that his grandfather will take him away. If he doesn’t care, there is no risk of being hurt.”