Page 13 of Sheltering You

He shook his head, though his smile said he wasn’t really unhappy with her.

She forced another bite, but she was too nervous to eat.

“Did you want to talk about something specific? Or did you just miss me?” He wiggled his eyebrows up and down, and she couldn’t help the laugh that escaped.

“You are a very silly man.”

“Hmm.” Some of his amusement seemed to fade. “Silly. That’s me. What’s up?”

“I need your advice.” She swallowed and added, “Really, I hope for your help.”

“Sure, anything.” He set his bowl on the table. “What’s going on?”

She did the same, then clasped her hands in her lap. What if she told him about Basma’s problem and he refused to help? What if he laughed at her? What if he told Michael, and Michael demanded she stay out of it?

Though these men hadn’t exercised any control over her yet, they could. They had all the power.

As usual, Jasmine was powerless.

If she kept her mouth shut, she could simply take the car and go.

But…but she didn’t even like to drive on the highway to Portland. How could she make it through Boston and New York City? And even if she only took the car to the bus station or the train station, it didn’t belong to her. And this family had been nothing but kind. She owed them her trust.

The most terrifying gift to give.

Derrick’s lingering amusement faded, his lips tightening at the corners. “What is it, Jasmine? What’s wrong?”

She had to tell him. And he had to help her. If he didn’t…if he didn’t, then she’d find another way. She had to.

She took a breath and decided to trust. For now. “This is between you and me, okay? You must not tell anyone.”

“Sure. No problem.”

“I have a friend from Baghdad, a very close friend. She and her little brother are in trouble. They’re going to be in Washington, DC, for a couple of days, and they need my help getting away from their guardian.”

Derrick’s mouth opened. Closed.

Jasmine sipped her water—he’d added a squeeze of lemon juice, just like she liked it. How thoughtful.

She set the glass on the table and waited for the questions forming in his eyes.

“Who is this person?”

“An old friend.”

“Does Leila know her?”

Why did that matter? “Basma and I didn’t meet until after Leila left Iraq.”

“Your friend—Basma?” She nodded, and he continued. “She’s trying to take her brother away from his parents?”

“No. Their mother died of cancer, like mine. It’s why we became friends—we had that in common. Her father was much older and died a few years ago. He was a kind and gentle man who adored Basma and Rabie. He arranged for them to live with his brother and sister-in-law, where they have lived ever since. But Basma has a half brother—the son of their father—who has decided he will take them to live with him from now on.”

Derrick was nodding slowly. “And that’s a problem because…?”

“He is evil.”

Derrick sat back, eyebrows hiking. “Evil?”