Chapter 16
CHAPTER 16
J asmine listened as Amir’s bedroom door closed and the lock clicked into place. With Riad still out, she had the house to herself.
Should she?
Every nerve in her body screamed no, but Patrick’s words echoed in her mind.
There’s always a choice.
Slowly, she got out of bed and opened her door.
It was now or never.
She tiptoed down the hall and tried the handle to Amir’s study. As she’d thought, it was unlocked. He’d forgotten about it thanks to his panic attack.
Biting her lip, she eased the door open. It gave a soft creak.
Heart hammering, she froze, but the house remained silent.
Leaving the door slightly ajar, she slipped inside.
She’d never been in here before. The room was sparse, strictly functional and very masculine. A dark wooden desk, a half-full bookshelf, a Persian rug covering the hardwood floor.
She drifted toward the bookshelf. It was bare except for a few religious texts—various versions of the Quran, some Islamic literature, and a couple of piles of printer paper. Nothing suspicious.
Glancing around, she spotted his laptop closed on his desk. She didn’t even try it. He’d have it password protected, and she was no hacker. A few loose papers lay scattered on the surface and she picked them up, scanning them for anything of value. Mostly Arabic, and unfortunately, she didn’t understand a word.
Damn. If only she had her phone, she could take pictures. But keeping her burner in the house was too risky. If Amir found it, she’d be dead before she could yelp, “I can explain.”
She flipped open a notepad lying next to the laptop, but it only contained more Arabic scribblings. She bit her lip, thinking. If she could just get this to Patrick, he’d have people who could translate it. It might even reveal what they were up to.
But Amir wasn’t stupid enough to leave anything that incriminating out in the open. He’d said it himself—if the authorities came knocking, they’d find nothing.
She rifled through the trash. A crumpled sticky note caught her eye. She smoothed it out. On it was written one word, also in Arabic, but it was underlined three times.
That must be important. She slipped it into her pocket. If Amir had tossed it, he might not notice it was missing.
Just one word. But it could be a date, a place, a target.
Patrick would know.
She was about to leave when she heard a key in the front door.
Riad. He was back!
Panicking, she bolted from the study, pulling the door shut behind her. She tiptoed down the hallway, but Riad was already entering the house. She wouldn’t make it to the kitchen in time. Instead, she darted into the living room.
He gave her a sharp look. “Where’s Amir?”
“He’s asleep. He was exhausted.” She prayed he wouldn’t notice how out of breath she was, or the pounding of her heart.
“What are you doing in here?” He glanced around the darkened room.
“I’ve been tidying up and I’m about to go to bed.”
He stepped closer, his eyes slanted. “I’m watching you, Jasmine. Just because Amir trusts you, doesn’t mean I do.”
She kept her voice even. “I only have your cousin’s best interests at heart.”
“Sure you do.” He smirked, his eyes sliding down her body, making her skin crawl. “Just know, your days here are numbered.”
He turned and left.
She leaned against the doorframe, her heart slamming against her ribs. What exactly did he mean, that her days were numbered?
Was whatever they were planning imminent? Or did he plan to get rid of her?
Or both?
As she went back to her bedroom, Jasmine knew she would get no sleep tonight.
By the time she reached the coffee shop the next morning, she was an exhausted wreck. She’d lain awake all night wondering what to do about Riad. How long did she have?
Tony smiled when he saw her. “Hey Jasmine, how are you doing today?”
“I’m okay.” She was anything but. “Can I get my bag?”
“Sure, you having the usual?”
“Oh, yeah. Thanks.” She’d almost forgotten to order a coffee, she was so stressed.
“Coming right up.” He grinned, then reached behind the counter and handed her the bag.
As soon as she got to a table, she grabbed her burner phone and fired off a text message to the emergency number Patrick had given her.
I need to see you.
Trembling, she sat down to wait.
Trying to distract herself, she opened her notebook and recorded Amir’s breakthrough from yesterday. It was important. He’d made real progress.
I can do this. I’m a professional.
Every few seconds, her eyes flicked to the door.
Where was he? Had he even read her message?
Then, the door opened, and in walked Patrick.
She nearly hugged him, she was so relieved. “You came.”
“I got your message.” He slid onto the chair opposite her.
She let out a breathy, “It’s so good to see you.”
For a moment, she just looked at him. The way he moved, the quiet confidence in his posture. His presence filled the space around them, grounding her in a way she hadn't felt in weeks.
He was so reassuringly solid. Those powerful shoulders filled out his jacket, and she had to resist the urge to reach out, just to feel something steady beneath her fingers. He’d be able to help her.
He frowned. “Jasmine, are you okay?”
“No. Not really.” She swallowed hard. “I had a run-in with Riad yesterday, Amir’s cousin.”
His eyes darkened. “Go on.”
“He told me my days were numbered.” She clenched her hands together. “Patrick, I think he means to kill me.”
Before she could process what was happening, his hand was on hers, strong and steady, his thumb grazing her skin in a slow, absent stroke. “I won’t let it come to that.”
The warmth of his touch sent a shock through her. She should pull away, but she didn’t.
“Patrick, I’m scared.” It was the first time she’d admitted it.
His fingers tightened around hers. He held her there for a beat too long before exhaling sharply and pulling back, clearing his throat. “We’ll protect you. If anything happens, we’ll get you out.”
“How?” Her voice cracked. She blinked, trying not to cry, but the fear was suffocating her.
“Trust me. We’ll know.”
Her voice dropped. “Are you listening in? Can you hear what they say?”
He shook his head.
“What then? A camera?”
His jaw popped.
She gave a little gasp. “You have got a camera inside the property.”
He hesitated for a long moment, then nodded. “Only in the living room.”
“Oh, God. You saw what happened with Amir? His panic attack?”
“I saw you talking to him, yeah.”
She could tell by his stormy gaze he wasn’t pleased.
For some irrational reason, she felt she had to explain. “He begged me. They man was in pain. Besides, I wanted Riad to see Amir needed me.”
“Did it work?” He stared at her intently, as if trying to read her mind.
She sighed. “No. Riad hates me. In fact, he nearly caught me in Amir’s study.”
Patrick’s eyebrows shot up. “You got into his study?”
She nodded. “He left it unlocked after his panic attack. That never happens, so I took a chance and had a snoop around.”
He gave a low whistle. “Did you find anything?”
“Only this.” She pulled out the crumpled note and slid it across the table. “It was in the trash. I don’t know what it says, it’s in Arabic, but the word is underlined three times, so I figured it was important.”
Patrick stared at the note. “I know a little Arabic.”
“What does it say?” she asked.
He let out a sharp breath. “It says, Saturday .”
A chill ran down her spine. “You think that’s significant?”
His voice was edged with steel. “I think it’s the date of an attack.”