101 Nights Box Set: Volume Two Read online

  “We have some things to work through, I guess.”

  “And you will. I’ve never seen two people better suited for one another.”

  She offers a smile. “To answer your question, no. I don’t have names picked. I’ve been too afraid of not making it out of here to think that far ahead.”

  “We will. I think, though, you should be prepared for the amount of press a simple name can garner,” I reply. “In England, the name of a royal heir often isn’t announced for weeks after the birth, because it has to be perfect, a combination of history and tradition, respect for the family, a reflection of the times and so on.”

  “Assuming we make it out … assuming Elijah and I can work on things … you think it’ll be that intensive?”

  “I imagine so. Elijah has multiple names.”

  “Hmm. Like my designers. I would have to combine American and Nijalan.”

  “What’s your father’s name?”

  “Daniel.”

  “It’s an option. You could go all-American and your son or daughter could be given a traditional Nijalan name when crowned as ruler of Nijala.”

  She giggles, and I glance over. “This is so weird! I’m a princess and my kids could be kings or something.”

  “Very different from American customs for sure,” I agree.

  “I want a girl.” The look on her face is pure amusement. “I want Nijala to be ruled by a queen. You don’t see that often, aside from England.”

  “It’d be a new trend, especially among the traditional monarchies of the Middle and Far East.”

  She’s smiling. It’s a relief to see. “What about you? If you and Alisha have kids?”

  “God help me,” I murmur.

  “The less you say about her, the more convinced I am there’s going to be something pretty permanent between you,” she warns.

  “I like her. A lot,” I admit. “She keeps me on my toes and reminds me that life isn’t all … this.” I motion to our surroundings. “She makes me laugh.”

  “She always did that for me, too. I was super serious in school. Well, and after. She helped me see the joy in life. I always loved the way she dressed.”

  “Definitely interesting.”

  “She’s the best friend you’ll ever have, George. Loyal to a fault.”

  “On that topic … something about you has been driving me crazy for the past few weeks.”

  “What?”

  “You disappeared for three months at one point several years ago. It came up during your background check and drove me mad initially trying to figure out what happened. I know Alisha helped you; I can’t find out anything, which means she erased you,” I add.

  Natalie sighs. “I crossed paths with someone I shouldn’t have while working on a case my law office was handling. I started seeing someone around the time the case came to our office. I had no idea he was a member of the Russian mob trying to use me to get access to what we knew about his boss. When I figured it out, I went to the cops, and this guy just … flipped out. Stalking me, breaking into my office and home …” She shook her head. “His people started harassing me. I was moved off the case, and had a protective detail from the police assigned to me. But the department had no budget, so after a week, I was on my own. Alisha found my name on a hit list in whatever underground internet forums she monitors.”

  I listen, the connection between Alisha and the Russian mob captain she was sleeping with starting to form.

  “Alisha had an idea to get me out of town and off the map for a few months, long enough for her to find a way to get them off my back permanently. I had tried everything through legal channels already, and there were notes waiting for me when I got home every day. When they started threatening my family …” She shrugs. “I took Alisha up on the offer.”

  “So she blackmailed or made a deal with someone to protect you.”

  “Yeah.” Natalie nibbles on her lower lip. “She never told me exactly what happened, but when I contacted her for a check in after three months, she said it was safe to come home. I did. Never heard from them again. I suspected she was working for them for a while, helping them hack banks and other sources of income as a means to pay off the debt of leaving me alone, but I could never get her to admit it.”

  I have a feeling I know what happened. Alisha never revealed the truth, because she wasn’t going to tell her best friend she got herself into trouble in order to save Natalie. I don’t know the details of exactly what might’ve happened, but it’s no coincidence that Alisha is involved with Tony. Natalie’s theory made sense, just as it made sense that the arrangement soured recently for Alisha to end up with a contract out on her own life.

  I can take care of that, once we’re out of here. “She’s a good girl,” I say aloud.

  “The best.” There’s affection on Natalie’s features. “I can’t eat this anymore. It’s been the same food for almost a month. What if …” Her voice trembles, and she touches her stomach.

  “Don’t think like that,” I tell her firmly. “We’ll get out of here soon.” While believing my words, I’m nonetheless concerned about her. “Finish eating, okay? You need your strength. I have an idea for when they come back for the evening check in.”

  She grimaces but resumes eating.

  I rise and go to the door. From the few interactions with the man who brings food once and water twice a day, I’ve assessed he comes alone and that there’s a thick chain and padlock around the doors in addition to the organic locking mechanism. The door never opens more than four inches, and the chain stays in place, even if it’s loosened.

  I’ve been going through different scenarios that might get us out. I’d have one shot; if I piss this guy off, there’s a chance he stops bringing food and water all together, and we’re fucked.

  Even if we didn’t get off this ship, I need a phone to ping Alisha. Whatever they’re doing on the mainland, we can’t wait much longer. Natalie is starting to crack, and I’ve got about a day left of optimal strength before the lack of food starts to affect me.

  We need off this ship. Now.

  Chapter Four: Alisha

  I hate waiting. Patience is yet another virtue that soared right past me when I was born. It’s been an hour, and I’m not the only one worried. Josh is tapping his fingers like crazy on the dashboard, his gaze glued to the door through which EJ disappeared.

  Someone’s been trying to call George’s cell for half an hour over and over – a familiar pattern of frantic redialing I recognize as either desperate or excited. I don’t have the device, or I’d definitely answer. I did, however, put a hit on his number in case its signal surfaced anywhere other than the ruins of the warehouse where he disappeared or the bay where his GPS tracker says he is.

  His phone’s signal comes from the warehouse. The call originates from the palace.

  At first, I thought it could be EJ, but that made no sense. I’ve been debating who it is, and why it’s probably the only signal in the palace not moving right now. The employees have spilled out of the west-side entrances, a couple of well-dressed men and women who look too wealthy to be servants mingling among them as fire alarms and a slew of other horrible alarms continue to go off. The compound is in lockdown mode, the palace being evacuated, and the security tripled in the time we’ve been here. There are police cars and fire trucks jamming up the narrow road from the west entrance, and it’s absolute chaos as they struggle to manage the crowds and figure out what’s going on.

  We’re laying low in the employee parking lot, out of sight of the security and law enforcement personnel.

  My focus returns to the tracer I have on George’s phone, and it dawns on me who might be calling.

  Layla.

  It doesn’t seem likely that she’s been overlooked. As far as anyone knows, she’s the heiress to the kingdom – the last person to be forgotten in anyone’s haste to leave the palace.

  The caller tries again.

  Whether it’s Layla or someone else,
I can deduct two things: they know George, and they’re probably in trouble to be redialing this much.

  “Hey, Josh … maybe you should go after –” No sooner do I start than Josh pushes his door open, as if he’s been waiting for someone to give him permission to go after the man he’s sworn to protect.

  Shoving my laptop under the passenger seat, I grip my pwn pad in one hand and leap out of the car to follow.

  Josh makes a beeline towards the palace, weaving seamlessly among the milling people, first responders and the harried palace security trying to herd everyone into one gathering place or another. I follow.

  Josh doesn’t bother looking back, which makes me think George never warned him about keeping an eye on me, just on EJ. I’m grateful for the lack of babysitting and slip into one entrance past more servants pouring out.

  Jostling my way into the palace, I start down the first vacant hallway I can find and take off at a run. Only when around a corner – and out of sight of the palace security rounding people up – do I stop to access the palace’s blueprints I’d downloaded during my two insanely boring weeks here.

  Puzzled by the location of the call’s origination, I can’t figure out who it might be. It’s not coming from the private, luxurious wing of the palace where George and I visited EJ’s sister, Layla.

  It’s coming from George’s hallway.

  I take off at a quick trot through the hallways. The security cameras are still live, but the virus will take care of any footage, at least for now.

  It takes me twenty minutes to reach the hallway where George lived. I skirt security personnel twice before tearing down his corridor and ducking into his room.

  My eyes go to the place where the coffee table should be, and I swallow hard. Being here kind of creeps me out after what happened, and being here alone …

  I hate it. The living room still smells like bleach.

  The sound of someone’s soft crying comes from his bedroom. Shivering the heebie-jeebies away, I cross to the room cautiously and push the door open.

  “Layla?” I ask, surprised. “What’re you doing here?”

  She clutches a backpack to her chest, her brown eyes blurry with tears. The frail fourteen year old appears much smaller than other girls her age, the side effect of her struggle to recover from the accident that nearly took her life several years before. Her crutches are on the bed beside her. She’s wearing jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt today. The informal, very un-princess-like attire, combined with the fact she’s packed to leave, helps me understand what’s before me.

  “You’re running away. Or … trying to,” I murmur.

  She nods. “I want George to take me home to America.”

  “Are you okay, sweetie?” I ask, concerned. “Did something bad happen?”

  She ducks her gaze without otherwise responding. The blare of alarms is getting on my nerves.

  “We can talk about this later,” I tell her, aware that we don’t have much time. “Can I borrow your cell?”

  She hands it over. I text Josh a message and then hand it back to her.

  “Where’s George?” she whispers. “Is he okay?”

  “He’s working on rescuing Natalie,” I reply. “We need to leave.”

  She hops up with sudden eagerness and maneuvers her backpack onto her back. She’s a little too … recognizable, especially with the crutches. I fetch a scarf from the collection of mine sitting in one of George’s drawers and drape it over her hair then grab one for myself.

  “Can you get by without crutches?” I ask.

  “Sorta. Not as well as with them,” she admits.

  I consider for a moment, wishing I were George’s size. “Piggyback?”

  A grin banishes the gloom from her face.

  “Hopefully we get out of here easily,” I murmur and kneel in front of her. “Can you hold this?” I give her the pwn pad. “That dot is where we’re going. You can guide us there, okay?”

  She peers at the blueprint on the tablet and nods before climbing onto my back. She may look like a tiny girl, but she’s gotta weigh a buck-ten. I grunt as I stagger to my feet and find my balance.

  “Okay. Here we go!” I say cheerfully.

  “Giddy-up!” she cries and then giggles.

  It’s not the most sophisticated escape I can imagine, but it’ll do.

  We make our way towards the west side of the palace. Instead of avoiding the streams of people moving like sludge through a main vein leading towards the exit, we join them. The security personnel are too preoccupied to notice us among the throng, and within another half an hour, we’re out of the palace and headed towards the parking lot.

  I spot Josh in front of the car waiting for us.

  The scene outside is even more of a mess than before, with twice as many people now jamming the spaces between cars to make way for the emergency vehicles. We weave through the crowds towards Josh.

  Josh opens the rear car door for me, and I all but drop to my knees in a clumsy attempt to lower Layla to the ground. Grimacing, I glance inside the car and see EJ present already, looking a little worse for wear. He’s got the start of a black eye, and his hair is ruffled, not to mention the edgy energy of fury that makes me not want to be stuck in the backseat of the the car with him.

  “Things go … well?” I ask.

  “Better than I expected.”

  Not sure I want to know what that means. If he weren’t so angry, I’d probably laugh. “Look who I brought!” I crawl on my knees out of the way and tug Layla to the car door.

  EJ’s expression changes instantly. He leans forward and helps his sister into the car, then drags her into a tight hug.

  “EJ!” she squeals, half in happiness, half in discomfort from the bear hug.

  I grin.

  “You’re embarrassing me,” the teenager complains, her voice muffled.

  EJ releases her with some reluctance and scours her features. “Are you well? Did he hurt you?” he demands.

  “Did who hurt me?” she replies.

  EJ’s concern slides away. I, too, am relieved she doesn’t know what he’s talking about. I climb into the car and close the door to escape the screaming sirens outside.

  “Are we going home to America now?” Layla asks. She pries free from her brother and pulls off her backpack. One of the zippers is open and spills her toiletries onto the floor.

  EJ hesitates, and I can readily imagine he doesn’t really have any idea how to handle his sister. Layla looks up expectantly.

  “We need to get out of here, first then talk about what happens,” I say in the awkward silence and frown as I gaze out the window. “We’re definitely not driving anywhere.”

  “Josh has an idea,” EJ says and bends over to collect the items that rolled near his feet. “I’ve got a plan for this evening. Malika called me. There’s at least one cousin cabinet member who can get us some soldiers to … Layla, what are these?” He lifts a bottle of vitamins. “Why do you have these?” He lowers them to look at her hard, a little confused. “You’re fourteen.”

  I glance at the contents of his hand and then back, freezing when I read the label on the bottle.

  Prenatal vitamins.

  “They’re not for me,” Layla giggles. “They’re for Natalie, when we rescue her.” She takes the bottle and tucks it back into her bag.

  “They have more … iron than normal vitamins,” I manage. “Natalie will probably need the extra dose because she’s been half-starved.”

  He’s not quite buying it, but I think I can brush it off, or change the subject, when Layla pulls something far more damning out of her backpack: a baby’s one-piece jumpsuit.

  “It’s yellow, since she doesn’t know if it’s a boy or girl,” Layla says proudly and holds up the sunny onesie. “Do you like it, EJ?”

  Oh, shit.

  “I found it at the market the one day Aunt Malika took me out of the palace,” the teen continues, oblivious to the effect of her words. She tucks the baby clothing
away before digging out a tablet.

  EJ isn’t looking at his sister; he’s staring at me, tense, his expression hard and indecipherable enough that I feel the sudden urge to preserve my life by leaving. Quickly.

  I open the door and all but jump out of the car. Our bodyguard is still outside, observing the crowd. “Josh, I think we need to go,” I say.

  “We’ll have to leave on foot, assuming you can open the gates again,” he replies.

  “Yep. No problem.” I reach in like the car is filled with piranhas and snatch my laptop and pwn pad.

  “Another member of our team has a car several blocks outside the gates, near the big mosque. He can’t get much closer. He also can’t get much farther. They’re cordoning off all the streets.”

  “I actually know where that is,” I say, excited by the familiar landmark that stands halfway between the palace and the market where I bought my headscarves. “I know a way to get there, too, that might help us avoid detection. Someone taught me the alleys.” I start forward.

  Josh catches my arm. “Malika says whatever EJ did when he met his father has his name on every police blotter in town. We need to lay low until dark.”

  “Okay.” My mind moves rapidly between possibilities. After a moment, I duck my head into the back seat. “Hey, kiddo, I need your phone.”

  Layla hands it to me.

  EJ glares at me.

  I think he needs some time. “I have a place where we can go,” I say. “It’s not far from the mosque. We can rendezvous there.” I text Josh the address of the one friend I’ve made in Nijala, a woman named Miriam whose family took me in for dinner almost every day for two weeks. “Send everyone there. No one knows to look for us there, I don’t think.”

  “Got it.”

  “I’ll just … uh, go on ahead and work on the gate.” I’m not about to climb back in the car with EJ in the mood he’s in.

  Josh nods.

  I flee.

  Fuck me. I have no idea what to say to EJ. It’s not my place to share Natalie’s secret and yet … maybe it is, given her situation at the hands of a psycho. I tend to think EJ needs to rescue her first, make amends if possible, and decide if they’re getting married or not, before they can sit down and have a discussion about children. I mean, they’re not technically together anyway. To throw this into the mix …