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They hadn’t fought since they’d reached adulthood. The battles that they faced in their lives had made their familial grievances seem petty in comparison.
Jafar stepped forward, his thumbs hooking into the belt loops around his lean hips as Abram shed the coat he wore.
Before leaving the fortress he’d dressed in jeans, a thermal undershirt, denim overshirt, and leather hiking boots. He was not just prepared for the cold desert night, but marginally protected as well.
The clothes were well worn and comfortable, soft and relaxed.
Jafar paused and stared at the clothing almost longingly before giving a little sigh and stretching his shoulders.
“Abram, you are mad,” Tariq hissed. “He always beat both our asses when we were boys. ”
“We are not boys any longer. ” Abram gave a tight, anticipatory smile as he stepped away from one cousin to face the other man. “And I have a reason to win. ”
There was no posturing and no preliminaries. They went right at each other, fists flying, snarls erupting from their lips and pure male testosterone fueling each punch.
He had been needing this. A chance to beat some fucking sense back into his cousin since the day he’d realized Jafar was fighting alongside Ayid and Aman.
“Fuck!” he snarled as Jafar managed to deliver an iron-hard fist to his jaw.
“For shame, cousin, such language,” Jafar chided him as he jumped back to avoid Abram’s answering blow. “I have told you, such disregard of decency will only bring you to a sad end. ”
“That or my damned family,” Abram retorted with a tight grin. “Tell me, Jafar, when did you stop dreaming of freedom and begin to dream of controlling lives instead?”
Jafar paused, his eyes narrowing in affront. His nostrils flared as something akin to an insane rage seemed to glow in the odd, celadon green of his eyes. That rage was the distraction Abram had awaited.
He took the advantage and slammed his fist into Jafar’s jaw and followed it with a quick, striking knee blow to the groin.
Jafar’s eyes widened in agony as he inhaled roughly. A tight whistling sound spewed from his lungs as Abram caught his shoulders and slammed his knee into his cousin’s diaphragm. He followed that quickly with a hard right to his face, slamming a blow into his jaw, and throwing him backward to be caught by one of his men. The older, bearded fighter gave a wicked grin and threw his commander back into the fray.
Abram didn’t have the time or ability to draw this little battle out. He could hear the low hum of the helicopter moving in stealth mode, much closer than he had anticipated. Within minutes the extraction team would be in place and ready to collect them.
He couldn’t let up. He had managed to gain the advantage, something he had never accomplished as a boy and assumed he would never accomplish as an adult. With fists, feet, and another knee to both the groin and to the stomach, Abram dropped his cousin to the dirt with a savage snarl of triumph.
“I win,” he rasped, his voice sounding ragged and torn as he stared down at Jafar. “This time it mattered more than my father’s pride. ”
Jafar stared at him, his breathing harsh and labored, his face bloodied, his odd green gaze strangely amused despite the pain that filled it.
“Be careful, cousin,” Jafar warned, his voice low. “To allow a woman to be such a weakness—”
Something flashed in Jafar’s eyes, something bitter and filled with wild rage as he cut the words off.
“Be careful, Jafar. Without it, you become the monster you are beginning to face in the mirror each day,” Abram said before turning and moving toward where Paige and Tariq waited.
There wasn’t a second’s warning. Tariq’s eyes widened, Paige cried out in fear, and the feel of cold steel against his neck stopped him in his tracks.
Abram froze, regret for his cousin welling in his chest as much as for himself. “You used to be a man of your word, cousin. “And unfortunately, of all things Abram had expected Jafar to remember, it had been the honor of his given word.
“I used to be many things, cousin,” Jafar said softly. “Many hard lessons have taught me the error of my ways. ” The blade scraped against Abram’s jugular as he allowed his gaze to meet Paige’s.
Terror filled the emerald depths as her tears washed over her cheeks. Tariq stood behind her, forcibly restraining her from crossing the distance.
She would have run to him, he realized in bemusement. Even knowing there was nothing she could do, and that there was a high chance she could have been harmed, still, she would have run to him.
“Jafar, please, don’t do this,” she cried out in horror. Abram felt the knife begin to bite into his flesh.
“I won’t go back,” Abram warned him softly, knowing the game his cousin was playing. “I can’t go back, Jafar. You know this. ”
“Return or die,” Jafar snarled. “I cannot afford to allow you to leave at this time, Abram. You know this. ”
