Page 18 of Sheltering You

“He told us to use it for whatever we needed, and I need to do this.”

“I think he meant for you to use it around here.” He tamped down his frustration. “Like to run to the grocery store. Don’t you?”

“He didn’t say that. He put no limitations on it.”

They were implied, and Jasmine knew it.

This conversation was almost as ridiculous as the one they’d had earlier. But this wasn’t a cultural issue. This was Jasmine sneaking around to get her way. And, sure, not for personal gain but for her friend. Even so…

It was so contrary to everything Derrick knew about her.

Which wasn’t enough. Michael had warned Derrick that once he got to know her maybe he wouldn’t like her so much. He’d thought the idea impossible, but…

But Michael knew things about Jasmine that Derrick didn’t.

“You can’t leave without telling them.”

Her eyes, those big, beautiful eyes, widened and filled with fear. She moved down the hallway toward him, then stopped abruptly just a few feet away, as if she’d thought better of getting too close. As if she was afraid of him. “You must not tell them.” Her voice held pleading. “They will stop me. Please, Derrick.”

What was he supposed to say to that? If he let her go, Michael and Leila would be furious with him. But if he told them, Jasmine might never forgive him.

He couldn’t live with that.

He took a breath. “You’re not driving to DC by yourself tonight. It wouldn’t be safe for you. And I’m not going to let you steal my brother’s car⁠—”

“It would not be stealing. He said⁠—”

“Not telling him would be taking advantage of his kindness, and you know it.”

The fierce look she tried to send his way faded. She dropped her gaze and crossed her arms.

“They would come after you. They would worry about you. It would cause all sorts of trouble, and if they found out I knew, it would cause me trouble.”

“I have to help my friend.”

“I understand.” He stepped toward her, but she moved back, eyes popping wide.

He stopped. Took a breath. The last thing he wanted was to frighten her. When he’d first met her, she’d been as skittish as a rabbit. In the two months since then, she’d come to trust him, to be comfortable with him. To talk to him and laugh with him.

He wasn’t going to let one conversation ruin everything they’d built.

“Helping your friend is not as simple as you’re making it sound.” He worked to keep his tone reasonable and kind. “But I can see that it’s very important to you. Just let me think. Okay?”

At her slight nod, he considered his options.

They were few. Letting Jasmine leave by herself at night wasn’t an option. Jasmine could barely drive across town—in the daylight. She would be a competent driver eventually, but she didn’t have enough experience yet to make it to DC, with all the traffic between here and there, without incident.

And it sounded like getting Basma and the kid away from the aunt and uncle—had she said something about security?—was going to take some doing. Did she really think she could do that by herself?

Obviously not. She’d asked Derrick for help.

Would Michael help if Derrick told him what was going on? Maybe. Best case scenario, he’d take care of the two Iraqis himself.

Worst case scenario? He’d refuse and prevent Jasmine from helping as well. If that happened, would Jasmine ever forgive Derrick?

Probably not.

Which left door number three, the one he’d been hurtling toward since Jasmine had first asked for his help. As if there’d ever been a question.