Chapter 5: "The Decision"

Alright Losties, on your request, I wrote a longer chapter for you🤗. Let's see how many comments you can spam me with in return for this wonderful favor 😌

Fire away!

First draft: December 4, 2020

Salma peeked over the banisters. Her father was still pacing angrily in the living room, making calls and issuing orders to his subordinates. Uncle Dawood shifted his position on the couch, looking just as riled up. Salma stretched her neck a little further to see her mother leaning against the kitchen door. Her eyes were going to and fro, following her husband's manic stroll.

"Report back to me as soon as you're done!" her father ordered. Cutting the call, he threw his phone on the couch. He pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation, heaving a tired sigh as he did.

The silence that followed pressed to Salma's ear drums. She felt a burning guilt sear a hole through her insides. Her parents and Uncle Dawood were now being subjected to a fresh dose of stress by her doing. However, Salma knew this was better and hoped that it would end well.

"Well?" Her mother coaxed.

Atif Rahman turned to his wife. Releasing another breath, he shook his head.

"I got nothing so far," he said. "He's just pushing my hands towards his throat now."

"How can he suddenly make such demands?" Uncle Dawood voiced. "There is no pattern in his behavior. An overnight change of heart? This is suspicious. Someone has got him up to it."

"Question is, who?" her father asked. "Tor Guls, the FBI, those X-Raw buffoons; we got nothing. What mode of communication can he be using that is untraceable? The only people he's been in contact with since his acceptance and then rejection of our demand is his friend, his sister, a professor at school, his manager, and that kid, Sarah. I have assigned people to tail and track all of them. They're clean. None of them have been in contact with any of the threats we know."

"There has to be an intermediary," Uncle Dawood massaged his temple. "My guess is someone who knows the Tor Gul sword is inches from our necks is in contact with one of his recent contact. They're the one pulling the strings."

Salma froze, instinctively pushing back a little.

"The thought occurred. Top of the list be Princess," her father grumbled. Salma's soul left her body momentarily. "Sarah meeting Zayn out of blue is the only unusual contact and Salma met Sarah a day before. Only issue is, Princess hates his guts."

"She was also not agreeing to the previous arrangement," Uncle Dawood pointed out.

Salma closed her eyes, making a crying face. Why did she have to have such smart adults as her guardians. She was headed straight for a huge embarrassment in the middle of serious dilemma. She prayed they would not question her about it.

"If it's from Salma, then it's a non-issue, but on the slightest chance that it's the Tor Guls, I don't want that imbecile near my daughter. She's been tormented enough."

Salma felt a lump in her throat. Her father really put her happiness quite high on his priority list -  even at a time like this.

"He's manipulative enough to marry her right under our noses," her mother reminded them. "I don't think he requires someone forcing him to do it. He obsesses over Salma. Now he's got the chance to force her with him."

Salma let out a resigned sigh. Zayn was a beast, but she could not help but feel rather sick with herself for allowing all the blame for the current arrangement to rest on him.

"He deserves it!" Sarah had scolded her earlier. "It's not like you're holding him at a gunpoint. It's his choice. Just stop being a freaking saint for two minutes and let things work themselves out!"

Salma winced remembering that. Her eardrums had hurt after Sarah was done screaming at her over the phone.

"So long as it's not the Tor Guls, anything else can be dealt with," Uncle Dawood said. "Zayn is not a threat. Salma alone is smart enough to deal with his shenanigans. Protecting her from a jerk isn't that hard. Once he agrees to help us avert the dangers, he can be tamed to toe the line. The only information we need for that is Salma's word that he's been a jackass to her."

Another silence followed. Salma processed her Uncle's words. It was true. So long as the danger from Agha Gul was averted, she could deal with Zayn. He was only a threat to her mental well-being, not her family, not her people and definitely not a threat to the Zamarud. Although she hoped to make her own happiness, but on the off chance that she failed, it was not that huge a deal compared to what she would achieved – her family and her people's peace and freedom.

"I'll wait for the recent updates from the people on ground," her father said, "then I'll talk to Sally. I can't see a way out of it whether or not Zayn has been put up to it by the Tor Guls. However, the information would help us strategize the kind of protection we need to put in place around her. Things could get messy."

"What if she says 'no'?" Uncle Dawood asked quietly.

She heard her father's sigh as he stood up. Salma could almost see his shoulders crouch under the weight of the hundred and ten more things he had to worry about, beside her rejection of a match. And yet, he still worried about it.

"I know my daughter," he simply as he picked his phone off of the couch. "She's taken more after her grandparents then us. I worry that she's too much like them."

***

First draft: March, 2018

"He's made a demand. He says he willing to help so long as we don't put an expiration date on the nikkah."

Salma stared at her father worried face, at his concerned expression and somber eyes, finally seeking his council on a matter that had been cooking up for quite some time.

"Do you think it's wise?"

Her father heaved a resigned sigh, his eyes downcast.

"I don't know what's wise anymore," he said. "It does give us two very clear cut options now. Either way I fail to protect you from getting hurt. Divorce or none."

Both halal, Salma added in her head.

"I'm going with the one that suits you best," Salma replied.

Her father turned to her, looking surprised. Salma could swear she saw his eyes welling up a little.

"I thought you said you wanted an immediate divorce?" he asked.

Salma smiled sadly.

"My concern was Islam and being fair. What we were doing earlier wasn't fair on him."

Her father smiled ruefully.

"How can you still consider what's fair on an awful person like him, and with everything that's been going on."

"I don't know." Salma shrugged. "Some dads do such a wonderful job raising good daughters."

Her father laughed, bringing her in for a bear hug.

"I'm so proud of you!" he said. "He doesn't deserve you."

Salma pulled back.

"And he won't be getting me, should he prove himself as undeserving as he is."

She waited as her father processed her words. Indirectly, Salma had asked if she still had the freedom to choose not to be with him by the end of it all.

"So it's a testing period?" he asked.

Salma nodded, not able meet her father's gaze. "That's how I am looking at it. It's fairer on him than the previous situation. He at least gets the chance to redeem himself and earn your trust back --"

"And yours."

"If he earns yours, I'll have confidence in him," Salma said. "If he fails to impress his sincerity of intentions upon you, I can't trust him."

Mr. Rahman's heart swelled with love for his daughter. Of all the blessings in his life, his daughter was the coolest. She made things so much easier for him by burdening her small shoulders with most of the weight of his problems.

"There's something I wanted to know though," Salma began cautiously

Her father faced her. He kept his features relaxed but Salma had a feeling he was dreading what was to come.

"Go ahead." He nodded.

"When you first met Zayn, you must have run some background checks on him. Did you not?"

"I did." Her father admitted.

"Is he some kind of an agent or an informant?"

Her father looked amused. Did he expect her to have figured it out by now?

"Why do you ask?" He chuckled.

"Well, his relation with the FBI agent, Alexandra Wickfield," Salma began, frowning as she thought about it. "It is not normal. She's always cleaning up after him and saving his skin like it's her duty. The trouble she goes through . . ." Salma's frown deepened. "It just doesn't make sense. She wouldn't waste so much of her time and resources over someone who is just a friend. It's - it's just suspicious."

Her father laughed softly. The merry sound of it bringing an involuntary happiness over Salma. He's been so stressed these days. Salma was pleased to see him laughing – even if it was at the expense of her genuine concern and curiosity.

"He's not in a relationship with her, if that's what you're worried about." Her father teased.

Salma's scowl returned.

"That's not what I am saying!" she protested. "Come on, dad!"

He sobered up to answer her question

"I understand where your suspicions are coming from, princess," he said, "but Zayn is clean. Well . . . sort of."

"Sort of?" Salma echoed.

"We first investigated him when the two of you had the accident on your way to the trip last year," he began. "We wanted to make sure he wasn't a Tor Gul recruit sent to finish the job in case the accident failed to kill you. It was a relief to know he wasn't.

"However, after the both of you were rescued, he was acting strangely. So, we kept him on the watch-list. We found out he had two fully functional personas; Zayn and Arethas. With that he became even more suspicious for the agency. His contacts with Ms. Wickfield made us think he was either an insider in the FBI trying to infiltrate our family to spy on us, or he was a Tor Gul sell-out among their ranks. Again, we found nothing. Except for him tailing you like a shadow, we could not pin him doing anything out of ordinary. Of course, until he blew me a nice slit in my side."

Salma winced.

"I'm good now," her father quickly reassured. "Anyway, but the agency basically thought he was not a spy or an agent, but an assassin. They thought he had staged a freak accident to take me out. Some of the Green Coats had him locked under the cross-wires. Had I flat-linned, they intended on capping him. No question asked."

Salma gasped, bunching up the comforter in her hands.

"Yeah, they kinda go rouge sometimes." He laughed awkwardly. "Thankfully, nothing of the sorts happened. They waited till I rounded up to give them orders to stay low. The circumstances were super shady but we had no evidence to suggest that he had planned on killing me. Strangely enough, he visited me in my room and invited me home with his old man. It had me thinking. See, unless the family is part of the agency we work at, most agents tend to keep their families and their work miles apart. Mixing the two is like handing your enemies the nukes to blow you to hell. So it was strange to me that he asked me to stay at his home with his Grandpa. It was a risky move to accept a potential assassin's invitation to his house but I had to figure out what his deal was. Turns out, he's just messed up in his head and refuses to give up on what he wants."

Salma was so shocked to hear the kind of flames and blades her father dances with as a part of his job that it took her a while to realize what he had said. She swallowed uncomfortably. By Zayn refusing to give up on what he wants, her father meant her.

"Bee, I'm not known for quitting easily." Zayn's warning reverberated in her head. "I'm not known for giving up."

Salma shook her head to clear it.

"So there's nothing shady between him and Alex?"

"He's an informant," he father replied as if it was a known fact. Salma's lips parted in surprise. Her father frowned. "I didn't mention that?"

"What kind of an informant?" Salma asked urgently. "What does he do?"

"He helps Ms. Wickfield in high profile drug busts."

Salma looked away, chewing on her lips. She was disturbed by the news. Yes she had suspected it but still . . . That man was shrouded in so much mystery. It was like every time she thought she could take a step to trust him, another layer was removed to uncover the layers of Zayn beneath it.

"When did you find out about this?" Salma asked. "When you went to his place?"

"No, really early on. Right in the beginning after we realized Ms. Wickfield had a personal relationship with him."

Salma swallowed her nerves. This was getting messed up. She wished she had not asked.

"He's harmless in this regard," her father said, picking on her anxiety. "He's just well-placed in social circle that she wants him to be. I'm guessing that's why she keeps protecting him from harm. If he's lost or locked up, Ms. Wickfield loses a previous informant among the elites and the celebrity circles. She's only protecting her interest by helping him. Nothing more."

Salma felt her stomach clench with discomfort. She recalled, back in the forest, Zayn had actually sounded really frustrated because he could not figure out why she would help him. It was as if the concept of actually being nice to someone without an ulterior motive was foreign to him.

"Why?" he had asked. "Why would you care?"

"What'd you rather have me do?" Salma had replied, exasperated. "People help other people. That's how it is."

"I don't know." Zayn had shrugged. "People don't just do nice things for others for no reason and I can't think of why you'd put up with my sh--"

"Poop," Salma provided.

Zayn had resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Fine, put up with my poop."

"So she's just using him?" Salma asked, the words like bitter poison spreading in her mouth . . . like us? She added the words in her head.

Her gut twisted painfully. She hated it.

"I'm afraid so . . ." her father said quietly, looking just as crestfallen.

Salma curled her toes with anxiety. Despite her dislike for the dark haired football player, she had never wanted to be yet another name in the long list of names who had used Zayn Harris and then discarded him. She hoped that by following Sarah's advice she was doing right by herself . . . and by him.

"Anyways, pray isthikhara on it." Her father patted her shoulder, pulling her out of her miserable thoughts. "And we'll proceed with whatever your heart is content with, Inshaa'Allah. I still have my reservations against Arethas, as do you, but I can't think of better way of navigating through these rocky waters. However, I don't want you to think you'll have to put up with any of his crap because he has you cornered. He has not. Any abuse, verbal or physical, any sign of coercion and I would want to hear of it, you understand?"

"Yes dad," Salma replied.

"Just because I'll agree to give him a second chance doesn't mean he has the pass to mess with you. You should know that. I'm always around should you feel that he needs getting some part of him fixed; his attitude, his brains, or a bone, you name it."

Salma could not help laughing.

"Got it dad." Salma smiled. "Thank you. It means the world to me!"

Her father returned the smile.

"Go to sleep now." He stood up, "We may have to redo the nikkah though."

Salma turned to him in surprise.

"I'm not sure if the first one is valid," her father explained. "One, because you had no idea who he actually was. I feel like the deception involved rendered it invalid. And two, the amount of times the two of approached one another with the intention of calling it off . . . I believe it would be more appropriate if we do it again."

Salma nodded in understanding, "Okay."

"Don't forget to perform an isthikhara." He reminded her. He swooped down to kiss her hair. "Sleep tight."

***

December 15, 2020

"One kosher, double patty, beef jalapeno burger for our Super Sally!" Cody smiled, placing a large mouth-watering burger in front of her.

Salma grinned at the size of the monster. "Thanks chief!"

"A chilled lemon fizz and an Oreo shake." Salma eyed the shake with confusion. "The last one is on the house," he explained.

"Aw man, ya'll are the best!" Salma grabbed the shake and slipped the straw under her veil to take a sip.

"Why do I not get a shake?" James complained. "This is clear injustice – Oh, I see. My entire dinner is on the house." He grinned at Cody. "You're the man, Code!"

"Nice try, Thomas." Cody smiled back. "You're paying for that food."

Salma almost choked on her drink seeing James's grin vanish like a puff of smoke. He grumbled his displeasure.

"Why aren't we getting free drinks like her?" Dean asked, pointing at Salma who had her eyes closed in bliss, chugging her way through the glass of free milkshake.

"She got us two regular diners." Cody waved at the two boys.

"I'll get you ten regular diners. Start preparing my free dinner." James announced.

"Twenty. And you'll get a free soda." Cody returned. "I mean, I am an appreciative man."

"You're just a firm believer in nepotism," James continued grumbling.

Salma exhaled deeply.

"Whew!" She grinned, putting the empty glass down. "Chief that's one heavenly drink. I'm gonna start ordering it more often."

Smiling brightly, she turned to her burger, only to realize the two boys were staring at her.

"What?" Salma blinked.

"Is he raising a pig?" James jerked his head at Cody. "How does that two millimeter stomach sack still have space to down that burger after a full glass of Oreo shake?!"

Salma turned to Cody.

"Jealous," they murmured in unison.

Dean chuckled while James vehemently denied the allegation of jealousy.

"Enjoy your food." Cody smiled at the three as he walked away from their corner table to let Salma have the freedom to eat in peace.

She removed her veil and picked up her burger.

"So, how's life treating you boys?" Salma asked casually.

The brothers replied together.

"Lovely."

"Sucks."

Salma paused eating. She watched James dip his fries in the sauce, his eyes downcast and his features solemn. She exchanged a quick glance with Dean. He pursed his lips, expressing cluelessness at how to help his brother.

"So the funding agency rejected your application?" Salma said quietly.

"Yep," James replied, plopping another fry in his mouth and not meeting her gaze.

Salma felt her heart sink a little. Poor James.

Just after her previous semester ended, the brothers were offered opportunities that made them shift to the US. Dean got a fellowship at a renowned institute of Anthropology which conducted researches on various cultures around the world and studied their heritage. He figured the fellowship would equip him with the tools to approach his studies of the Sthooriy's culture more expertly. James got a funding request approved to kick-start his sports studio.

The two boys settled in the neighboring town – close to Dean's institute. They and Salma often hung out at Cody's to catch up with each other. Everything was going well until two months ago, when due to corruption charges and mismanagement, the funding agency sponsoring James's studio, froze all new and future funding. There was no telling when the investigation would complete, and if they would be able to fund anymore projects given the loss they had suffered due to the fraud.

James was rather miserable after the sudden blow. He had already rented a place and was going to buy equipment to get going. Since then, he has been unsuccessfully trying to get another agency approve his request but without much luck. His expertise was football – soccer in America – and the people of Blue Riverdale did not have much interest in soccer. The funding agencies did not believe he would be able have a breakthrough and run a successful business.

"It'll work out." Salma said gently. "Everything is timed to a T."

"I know it will." James flashed her with a bright smile. "I'm just replying at how's life treating me."

Salma chuckled.

"So how's life treating you?" Dean asked her instead.

"Same old, bro." Salma shrugged, trying not to give away much about her current situation. "Just classes to attend and bloody murders to fend off."

"You still got those thugs on your tail?" James asked, looking worried.

"Yep."

"Man." Dean frowned. "What is the FBI doing? How have they not yet locked those jackasses up."

Salma shrugged. Those weren't the murderers she was worried about.

"Did you get attacked again?" James asked.

"No," Salma replied, "but I have to be careful. Can't wander around too much. Also, Alex pops in and out, occasionally."

"The agent?" Dean's eyes twinkled. "She's so cool!"

"Yeah, so cool she's useless," James returned. "She might as well stop with the optics and guarantee Sally her safety by catching the murderers." He turned to Salma. "Don't worry Sallabae, I'm here for you. I'll pull him in front of any bullets fired in your direction."

Salma laughed as Dean threw a napkin at his brother's head.

"Anyways, I was just --"

Salma stilled, putting her burger down. Her eyes fixed on the girls who had just entered the eatery. One of them had parrot green hair with yellow streaks.

"Rotate!" Salma whispered urgently as she picked her plate and drink.

"What?" James whispered, mirroring her actions. "What happened?"

"People I need to avoid," Salma whispered back.

Dean craned his neck to take a look at the danger, then nodded and picked his drink and lasagna. Without further ado, the three switched seats so now Dean was sitting on Salma's spot, James on Dean's and Salma on James's spot with her back to the door.

"Who're they?" James eyed the girls with interest.

"Enemy clan," Salma muttered, lowering her head to make herself small and unnoticeable. She startled when she felt something wrap over her.

"Relax," Dean said, pulling the hoodie over her head. It took Salma a while to realize he was no longer wearing his brown hoodie over his cream T-shirt.

Right. Because she was wearing it now.

"Thanks," Salma replied, shrugging into the oversized outwear.

"Don't worry, I'm here." James said, scooting close and throwing his arm around her. He started rubbing his knuckled on his head. "I'll throw him to the bitches if they try to bite you."

"The hell, James!" Salma struggled against his headlock. "Stop!"

"Hi Salma!"

The three froze. Salma closed her eyes, hoping she had imagined the greeting. James stopped his playful assault, letting his arm loosely rest on her shoulders. Salma pushed him off.

"Charlayne, hi!" Salma greeted the green and yellow haired girl with feigned enthusiasm.

"Long time, no see." She smiled.

Seriously? Salma scoffed in her head. She was there at the hearing the other day. Although yes, they didn't exchange pleasantries because one, Salma did not want to, and two, she was supporting the enemy clan, but they still saw each other a few days ago.

"Yeah, I've been busy," Salma replied, keeping her opinions to herself. "How have you been?"

"Good," Charlayne replied, jerking her head in the direction of the other girl who was inspecting her nails and rolling her eyes ever so often. "Just me and Lee getting a quick bite before we hit the shops."

"I see." Salma smiled.

It was getting really awkward, really fast.

Charlayne smiled uneasily and then glanced at the boys.

"'Sup!" James smirked, checking her out. "Ignore her rudeness for not doing the introduction. She's still learning."

Salma glared at him while Charlayne laughed.

"My apologies," Salma muttered much to their amusement. "This is Dean, my bestest person on the planet. And that's his donkey. He's called James."

Dean roared with laughter. Charlayne broke into a fit of giggles and Salma jumped out of her seat as James dived towards her. She ended up knocking into someone behind her. Said person hissed angrily.

Salma turned around to apologize, only to realize the hiss was not from a human.

"What the fu-"

It was from the snake. Lena.

"Are you trying to break my legs?!" she yelled angrily, making everyone attentive to their small group.

Before Salma could reply, a firm hand wrapped around her arm and pulled her back.

Author's Note:

Dun Dun Dunnnnnn!

Who might that be?😲

Anyways, more old faces making a return. I'm sure y'all are pleased to see Lena🥰. Also, the Zayn situation got a little more perspective. How do you reckon things will roll out?🤨

Don't waste your braincells!😁 You can read right on and find out by becoming a Patron. Get early access to updates and also, exclusive scenes😉. Check out www.Patreon.com/BrekhnaJohar

Vote, comment and Share. Let's try to get the story rank, shall we? No? Okay lol🤣. A girl can dream

Lots of Love

J.