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I open the front door and then bend to get my shoes. I don’t bother putting them on as I walk onto his porch and slam the door behind me.
The taxi service says it’s three minutes away, and I send a driver a text to pick me up at the corner, wanting to get as far away from Malachi’s house as possible.
The chill in the air makes me acutely aware of my lack of clothing, as well as the fact that I look like a woman taking the worst walk of shame in her life.
The roar of a Harley breaks up the silence of the early morning hour, and I glance in the direction of the noise out of habit. As soon as I see the familiar bike, I curse.
Of all of the neighborhoods this fucker could pick, why on Earth is he in this one? My anger skyrockets when he stops in front of me and smiles.
“Need a ride, gorgeous?” Spark smiles at me.
“Franklin send you?” He nods as if I should have known better.
I cancel the taxi and then text Lacey before letting Spark help me onto his motorcycle.
Take the tracker off my phone. NOW.
No
“Fucking stupid club.” I hug Spark’s waist as he roars past Malachi’s house.
The man is standing on the porch watching me drive into the sunrise with an angry look on his face. I flip him the bird and turn my face away.
“Isaac?” I yell into his ear.
“Yeah?” He slows to a stop at a red light and turns to me.
“Take me to my brother.”
CHAPTERFOUR
MALACHI
“What have I done, Foxy?”I sigh as I flop down on my couch and hold my head in my hands.
I let all the talk from the guys tonight get to me. I judged Aspen based on rumors and prejudice because I was mad at being surprised by my coworker’s information on her family.
“FUCK!” I roar out in frustration.
I grab my phone and text her, but it bounces back.
She fucking blocked me. I can’t blame her. I was a total asshole. My mother would be so ashamed of me.
I was young when she died, but she taught me that women were precious and meant to be taken care of like my father did for her. I stand and walk over to the mantle and lift the small framed photo of my family. It’s the only one I have, and it was taken about a year before they died.
My uncle had it with him when he picked me up from the hospital three days after they died in a bombing that should have claimed my life as well. Somehow, my parents knew and got me into the shelter just before the earth shook from the explosion that devastated Mashhad. I was buried under rubble for hours before a rescue team found us.
My arm was broken, but my parents had been crushed.
I sigh as I try to stop the memories from drowning me in even more sorrow. I grab my mail that’s been piling up to distract myself. I flip through and frown when I come to a letter with the Pahlavi family crest on it.
I tear open the seal and carefully take out the paper.
Mr. Nassar,
Important family documents have recently been found and are awaiting retrieval at the Iranian Consulate located at the address below.
Please bring your passport and birth certificate to claim the documents.
