Chapter 76: "Use the Bait"

Post your reactions as you read! It's a long one.

First Draft: December 24, 2021

Zayn received the ball and tapped it towards Aaron, the Center back, to dodge the opponent's defender marking him continuously. Salma fisted her comforter in her hands as she watched Zayn slip past the man marking him and race towards the opponent's box.

"GRACE IS IN POSITION! AARON GIVES HIM A LONG CROSS AND OHHHH!"

Salma slapped the comforter in frustration as the opponent team's defense jumped to clear the ball. LA Galaxy was pressing for a goal but the defense of the opponent's team was solid. Also, Salma figured that the slight drizzle that was drenching them all, did not really help.

"LOVELY, LOVELY CLEARANCE FROM JOSHUA HUMES. HE READS THE ROOM, REALIZES WHAT GRACE HAS IN MIND AND RUNS ALL THE WAY BACK TO THE BOX TO CLEAR THE BALL."

Salma shook her head as the players assembled in front of the goal.

"JOSHUA'S BEEN AN ABSOLUTE TREASURE FOR THIS HOUSTON SIDE," the other commentator agreed.

"GRACE MISSED AN ABSOLUTE SITTER. HUMES IS PROVING TO BE A CHALLENGE. LA GALAXY WITH THE PENALTY CORNER!"

Salma held her breath as Hamza jogged towards the linesman to take the corner. Joshua Humes, the defender that was constantly frustrating Zayn and his mates, took a few steps back to stand guard in front of Zayn.

"Look at him mark the danger man!"

"He's managed to block three wonderful attempts from the galaxy so far."

"Yeah quite frustrating for Walter," the first commentator said as Zayn's grandfather was shown shaking his head. "Tough season for him and his grandson."

"Bit unfortunate for grace with that injury, but lucky he's made a full recovery. I believe he's hoping to grab that spot for the world tournament on the national side."

Salma started chewing on her lower lip nervously as Zayn tried moving past Humes. He wiped his face with the sleeve of his shirt, waiting for the whistle to be blown.

Salma held her breath.

"Everyone is position. The score is leveled at 1-1. LA look to convert the penalty corner. Referee Mark Penn to blow the whistle. Hamza Khalid hits is hard – AND IT'S A GOOOOOOOAAALL!!!"

"YEAH!" Salma threw her fists above her head, watching Zayn race the ground towards the stands where hundreds of his admirers were going absolutely bonkers.

"IT'S A GOAAAAAAL! LA GALAXY HAS GRABBED THE LEAD AGAIN!" The commentator yelled as Hamza and the rest of Zayn's teammates piled on him. Salma bounced on her bed in excitement, eager to watch the replay.

"A WELL AIMED KICK BY HAMZA. A SPECTACULAR HEADER BY GRACE!

"LOOK AT THAT KICK BY HAMZA KHALID! HE CURLS THE BALL TO THE FAR END AND GRACE JUMPS OVER HUMES TO KNOCK IT INTO THE BACK OF THE NET!"

Salma settled down, moving back and forth as the game resumed. She kept praying for LA's victory. There was still enough time for the other team to make a comeback and level the score or take back the lead.

***

Zayn wiped his wet hair back as he walked towards the tunnel. He clapped at the fans, donning raincoats and umbrellas, cheering and waving the club banners. Zayn waved back, placing a hand above his heart to acknowledge and appreciate their support. It had been a while since he had felt so alive, yet so knocked out at the same time. He did a three sixty clapping and thanking the crowd that was on their feet to appreciate their teams for putting out such a spectacular show in pouring rain. A hand resting on his shoulder made him turn around.

"Good game, mate." Humes nodded. He was just as drenched as Zayn.

"You're a nightmare man!" Zayn clapped his back in appreciation.

Humes pushed back his wet hair, smiling.

"Hope to play with you on the national team."

"You too, man," Zayn replied. "That was some sick defending, that!"

"Good game, Cap'n!" Hamza appeared next to Zayn out of nowhere, before noticing Joshua next to him. "Oh, and you're a rock solid wall, bro!"

"Yeah, thanks kid!" Humes chuckled. "You totally tire me out."

Zayn jogged towards the tunnel, leaving the two to marvel at each other tactics. He congratulated and appreciated as many of his opponents on his way as he could. Grandpa Steve pulled him into a hug at the mouth of the tunnel.

"Lovely show, son!"

"Thanks, grandpa." Zayn hugged his Manager. "Sorry, couldn't grab a win!"

"It's not always about the win," Grandpa said, clapping his back before turning to shake the opponent player's hand.

"What a cracker of a game!" Tyson clapped Zayn's back as he hurried on.

"Knocked me out!" Zayn chuckled.

"Race you to the showers!" Tyson roared with laughter from up ahead.

Zayn laughed.

"Idiot," he said.

"I'd appreciate it if you skip that shower," a voice said, just as he rounded the corner.

Zayn glanced to the side to see Alex leaning against the wall, dressed in dark skinny jeans and white dress shirt. She straightened up to fall in step with him.

"I barely had like an hour where I felt my life didn't involve bullets and gruesome deaths." Zayn sighed, feeling the dread and gloom return, settling a heavy weight in his stomach.

Alex removed her shades and rubbed her tired eyes. To say that she looked stressed would have been an understatement. She looked horrible.

"Are you going to take the bus?" she asked, sounding exhausted.

"Yes, I have to stay with the team," Zayn replied.

"Good, stay around people. I'll go ahead and clear your ride at the training center."

"Do you honestly think he'd harm me?" Zayn asked, not sure if Alex's insistence on following him everywhere was necessary.

"Until and unless he tells you want he wants, yes," Alex said. "I believe he will be doing that. It's the next logical step to instill fear in you and make sure you would do as he says and not think of resisting him."

Zayn said nothing. He already knew what the murderous piece of shit wanted. He was just not yet sure if he could trust Alex with the information.

"I don't think you should be around me so much, Alex. He already knocked you at my place before," Zayn said. "And he knows you're on the lookout for him. Man's a ghost! You can catch him, but I fear he'll catch you first."

Alex let out a heavy sigh.

"I don't have any intentions of catching him," Alex said, much to Zayn's surprise.

"Then what do you want?"

"I want to meet him," she said simply.

"Meet him?!"

"Like you said, man's a ghost. He can't be caught," Alex said, "but he can be met. I want to know what he wants. A ghost that wants something has value. He can be negotiated with."

Zayn looked at the agent, incredulity and disbelief written all over his expressions.

"Are you mad?" he cried. "You're thinking of striking a deal with a cruel bastard like that?"

Alex smirked, glancing at him sideways.

"If I can't fight him, I tame him," Alex explained. "He's a threat so long as he remains to be a mystery. Undo the mystery and he becomes an asset, or useless, depending on what he wants and what he can offer."

"And you want to set the meeting point around me, because you think he's coming for me again?" Zayn raised his brow.

"Yes," Alex said simply.

"Your just shameless, Alex," Zayn said, shaking his head in distaste.

"Life was never meant to be a bed of roses, sweetheart," Alex said. "If you want to catch a fly, spin a web."

"Right, you better not be spinning that web around the wrong people, or you'll end up trapping yourself," Zayn returned. "Also, I think following me everywhere would be a bit impossible for you."

"A bit?" Alex scoffed as they reached the dressing room. "Talk about an understatement. Where is your next fixture?"

"Chicago," Zayn replied.

"Finally!" Alex cried in relief. "Something's happening my way. When is this?"

"Thursday," Zayn replied. "Why?"

"Thursday, hmm. Can you stay the weekend over in Blue Riverdale?"

"No. Why?" Zayn repeated.

"Because I should have been in Blue Riverdale yesterday!" Alex explained. "Chris is popping here and there and I can't leave him unattended. At the same time, I can't have you unguarded at this really critical time when this beast is sucking blood off of my men."

"Chris?" Zayn asked.

"The X-RAW operative from the forest," Alex replied, sounding irritated.

"How's he back from the dead?" Zayn asked.

"You can asked him yourself once I get my hands on him!" Alex returned.

"Excuse me –"

"Just get your ass to Chicago safely so I can protect it while I complete the field operation in the town next door," Alex said, before walking away.

Zayn grabbed her arm to stop her.

"Alex, whatever you do with these men, if you want me by your side, you stick to the conditions of our agreement," Zayn warned.

"Rest assured." The agent gave him a cunning smile as she patted his hand coiled around his arm. Zayn let go. "I know where to put value when I strike deals."

***

*MyBee🐝: That was such a tough game!

*MyBee🐝: The draw was kind of a downer but I'm glad you had fun.

*My Bee🐝: Oh, and good luck for the national side selection.

Zayn smiled lazily, typing up a reply. He considered calling her but then decided against it. They've had a very limited exchange since his arrival to LA but he had been hit by such maddening chain of events, with training sessions, games and the absolute horror of finding a nearly dead agent in his trunk, that Zayn had barely had much time for keeping up with his relationships.

The last time they talked was a quick voice note a few days ago when she had sensed that something was wrong and asked if he was well.

"I'm good." Zayn had lied when he was losing sleep over the barbaric attack on the FBI agent. "Just really busy with the training schedule and games. It'll take a bit of getting used to, but don't worry. I'm fine. Thanks for asking. Love you."

Truth was, Zayn had been knocking himself out during practice and gym sessions, as a way to avoid thinking what could have happened had he been a minute or two too late to discover there was a man dying in his car.

"Alright there, son?" Grandpa Steve walked into the lounge. He used a folded sports magazine to smack Zayn's feet that were propped up the the pristine coffee table.

Zayn removed his feet off the table, turning a little to lie down on the chaise properly. The living hall around him was divided into several connected sections. It was populated with fancy crème colored furniture and beautiful, sparkling chandeliers, with walls covered in some of his paintings, and tables and shelves in pristine glassware and ornate designs. The hall was in stark contrast to his comparatively tiny sitting room in Blue Riverdale. However, Zayn preferred the latter. One reason for it being, unlike in this overly done, fancy mansion, he could prop his feet on the sturdy table in the sitting room there and no one could tell him to take them off.

"I'm good," Zayn replied as he hit 'send' on his screen.

*Zayn: Thank you.

*Zayn: Miss you loads. Good night.

"Just got a called from Peter," Grandpa Steve said. "He said you're top of the shortlisted candidates for USMNT. He's confidant you'll get the captain's armband."

Zayn almost snapped his neck as he turned to his old man.

"For real?!"

His grandfather laughed.

"Of course, why would I lie to you?"

"I don't know, you like playing pranks on me," Zayn replied, smiling.

"Do I now?" The old man chuckled, opening the magazine.

"In that case." Zayn sat up straight. "Can I be rested after the Chicago game?"

Stephen Walter raised a suspicious brow.

"Asking to be rested after just two games?" he muttered, fixing his glasses as he continued reading whatever article had caught his attention. "I wonder what could be the reason for it."

"No reason." Zayn shrugged. "Just that we don't have a chance at winning the title, and my primary focus for these games was to get that spot on the national side. I just don't have the energy –"

"Don't have the energy, or don't have the heart?"

"Same thing, different words." Zayn waved it off.

"Or is it?" The old man peered at him over the top of the glasses. "I believe if a certain someone, where your heart is these days, were to be transferred where the games were, you'd find the energy –"

"That is so not the case!"

"Deny it all you like, I know where this sudden inspiration to be rested is coming from."

"You've got it wrong!"

"Then you don't get rested at all." Grandpa shrugged, turning back to his article. "Health and pressing relationship or family issues are the only reasons why I'd rest you. If you have none, good. We play."

"What about myself?" Zayn asked.

"It's for you that you play," Grandpa replied. "It's you job, boy. Don't forget that. You get paid for this. Unless you have a reason, which you don't, you show up to do your job."

Zayn sighed, crossing his arms.

"I do my job," Zayn defended. "I just wanted to go to Blue Riverdale for the weekend after the Chicago game."

"That can be arranged. Actually I'd join you," Grandpa Steve said casually as he flicked a page. "I intend on meeting the person that carries your heart these days."

"You're doing what?!"

"Yeah, just informing you," he continued calmly. "You haven't stuck to someone like this for so long so I can see you're committed."

"Grandpa –"

"It's been ages since that engagement, or whatever party that was, and you haven't introduced us yet," the old man said. "If you don't agree, I'll just ring Mr. Rahman."

"No, you won't!" Zayn cried.

His grandfather put the magazine away.

"Of course I will. He's a good friend. Is there a problem?"

"No," Zayn said, looking away.

"Then we'll go see your girl."

"It's not –" Zayn released a frustrated breath. "We're not there yet, me and her – I don't think you should be meeting her."

His grandfather raised a brow.

"There yet? I believe there was an engagement party that I attended. You promised to marry her but you're not there yet?"

"That engagement thing didn't work, alright," Zayn said. "We broke up."

"Broke up? Last I checked –"

"Yes, we got back together, but -- Look, I don't know what Darren's been telling you –"

"He's been telling me nothing."

"--but it's complicated," Zayn finished. "You can't meet her!"

His grandfather fixed him with a scrutinizing stare. Zayn refused to meet his gaze.

"What happened?"

"It's nothing." Zayn focused on the tiny scratch on his arm that he had received earlier during the game. "I'm seriously considering the offer from Manchester City."

"And she has a problem if you accept it?"

Zayn let out a resigned sigh.

"I haven't talked to her about it," he admitted.

"You didn't tell her and you write her off –"

"Grandpa!" Zayn protested. "I just know it won't work. She has problems. Her whole family lives here. She'd never move!"

The old man removed his glasses and massaged his brow. He inhaled deeply before lowering his hand.

"I'm meeting her this Saturday, with or without you," he announced with a finality in his tone.

"But –"

"You have until the Chicago game to finalize the details," he finished, as he stood up. "Or I just call her father, and you are not allowed to go to Blue Riverdale for the weekend. I expect you to show up for training, nine o'clock. Sharp!"

Zayn raised his hands in disbelief as his grandfather fixed him with a pointed look before walking away. Zayn dropped his face in his hands. He knew he had only one choice; fix a meeting between his grandpa and Bee on his own terms before the old man decides to do it himself.

***

First draft: December 25, 2021

Salma heard her phone beep beside her. She had every intention of ignoring it to get back to her reading but she glanced at it out of habit and saw a notification from Zayn. Putting the book upside down to not lose her page, she grabbed her phone and swiped the text open.

*Zayn: Assalamo'Alaikom Queen Tomato Bee🐝.

Salma felt a smile stretching on her lips despite her trying to keep a straight face. It's been a while since he had actually taken the time out to tease her. He had been kept pretty preoccupied in LA. Even when he sent her a quick message or voice note, he had always sounded like he could not wait to get a shut-eye.

Releasing a breath, Salma typed a reply.

*Salma: Wa alaikom Assalam King. . .dear God, I need to find an insect I can name you after!

Salma hit 'send' and started thinking of an insect that best described him. Her phone beeped with a response from Zayn.

*Zayn: Hahaha. Just 'King' would do. Thank you.

*Zayn: But you can try

*Zayn: I'm 100% sure nothing can compare to you being Queen Tomato Bee!

*Zayn: My* Queen Tomato Bee!

Salma felt a blush creeping up her cheeks. She pressed her lips together to not crack another embarrassing smile.

*Salma: You're so silly!

*Salma: How are you so chatty today?

*Salma: Don't you have a game to run laps for or something?

His response started a word-war

*Zayn: So you've noticed I've been missing from your inbox.

*Zayn: Did I keep you waiting?

*Zayn: it's okay to tell me how much you missed me.

*Zayn: Go on!

*Salma: Deluded!

*Zayn: So you missed me?

*Salma: Not!

*Zayn: You did so!

*Salma: did NOT!

*Zayn: You did

*Salma: didn't.

Salma chuckled. She had already typed another 'didn't' but Zayn was yet to send a 'you did'. Salma waited impatiently as she eyed 'Zayn is typing...'.

*Zayn: You denied missing me?

Salma hit send before she even properly read what he had written,

*Salma: didn't!

"Yikes!" Salma bit her lip when Zayn send her a sticker of a guy holding his stomach with laughter.

Chuckling, she typed another message.

*Salma: Alright. You got me.

*Salma: And yes, I missed you.

*Zayn: Aw, Bee. You're good fun😍.

*Zayn: I miss you too.

*Zayn: Any chance you're free this weekend?

Salma frowned.

*Salma: Do you plan on coming?

*Zayn: Yeah, I have a game in Chicago on Thursday so I'm trying to find a way to drop by on the weekend for a quick visit.

Salma smiled.

*Salma: I look forward to it. I hope you can make it.

Zayn: Of course, Queen Tomato Bee. I can't keep your majesty waiting!😘

Salma blushed beetroot.

Salma: Stop!

*Zayn: Yes, your royal honeyness!

Salma felt another wave of embarrassing smile tug at her lips.

"Stupid boy!" she muttered to herself as she tried to come up with a response to stop him from teasing her.

However, Zayn cut her to it.

*Zayn: Only problem is, grandpa wants to join in.

Salma chuckled. She was going to ask why it was bad for her grandpa to come over when Zayn sent another text.

*Zayn: He wants to meet you.

Salma froze. She reread the message. His Grand pa wanted to meet her?

She quickly typed a response.

*Salma: What?

*Zayn: Yeah, I know it sounds stupid and unnecessary, but he insists. . .

*Salma: Is it weird if I ask, why?

Salma waited for Zayn's reply. Although it was not such a strange thing for his family to want to meet her, the unexpected request was making her anxious.

*Zayn: No.

*Zayn: It's a fair question.

*Zayn: But I don't know. He's a weird guy. He said he'd call your dad if I don't arrange a meeting. He's such a stubborn old man.

Salma's lip tugged in a half smile.

"I suppose that's where you get it from." She laughed.

*Salma: Alright. Just sort things out with my father first.

*Salma: I think he would want to know.

*Zayn: Sure.

*Zayn: Thanks Bee!

*Salma: Don't mention it.

Zayn continued typing.

*Zayn: Sorry that he's imposing it on you but don't worry, he's easy going. Also, I'll be there as your knight in shining armor to protect you.

Salma laughed out loud at that.

*Salma: Man, you need to get down from your high horse😏!

Salma heard the doorbell ring, just as Zayn started typing again.

***

First draft: June 3, 2018

Salma's heart thudded against her rib cage as she took a seat at the table in the center. Alex had instructed her to stay cool. Salma tried but her mind was hyperactive and it made her jumpy.  She was absolutely terrified. Any instant, a bullet could shoot right through her head, painting the opposite wall with her brains. The seconds ticked by in a painfully long stretch. Salma almost jumped out of her seat when her phone beeped. Pinching the bridge of her nose, Salma let out a frustrated sigh to see a text notification from Alex.

*Unknown: Act normal. Calm yourself.

Salma closed her eyes, grasping the cellphone in her trembling hands. Act normal? Are you kidding me?!

Salma was not an FBI agent accustomed to the threat of getting shot any second. How on earth did the agent expect her to act normal was beyond her.

Salma typed out a response with shaky fingers and hit 'send'

*Salma: You can tell my swimming head that🙄. I feel like I may pass out any second!

Salma dropped her phone on the table and pressed her fingers to her eyes. Agent Wickfield knew how to create a circumstance where people started dancing to her tune before they could catch up with their limbs. Everything had happened so suddenly. Salma barely had had any time to think or question what was going on. One minute, she was texting Zayn and the next, Agent Wickfield was at her door, asking Salma to follow her to her car.

"Can I borrow Miss Rahman for a couple of hours?" she had asked Anne, who had tried to intervene, when she heard Salma's confused cries of protest, trying to understand what the agent wanted as she hurried her to the car.

"What? Why?" Anne had asked, looking bewildered and terrified.

"Mrs. Rahman, it's nothing serious, alright," Agent Wickfield had quickly told her. "We just need her to identify a few faces. It's for her own safety."

Anne was unwilling but she was not given much choice when Alex led Salma out by the arm, whispering. "It's the X-RAW! I don't want your family to panic but he's out and I want to get him before he gets you so hurry along. We are losing precious time!"

Completely clueless, Salma climbed into the car, not really getting a chance to think it through.

"Stop! Wait! This is kidnapping! You can't take Salma away like that!"

Anne's protest fell on deaf ears as the agent got into the car after Salma. The van pulled out of the driveway. Salma glimpsed a horrified Anne, racing back inside to inform her father and Uncle Dawood of the FBI taking her away.

In the van, While Alex was telling Salma what she was to do, Salma could only pray that her father was able to intervene before Alex threw her to the dogs, because for one, it definitely did not sound like just identifying a few faces. It was a field operation and Salma was more or less, a bait. However, despite understanding what was going on, Salma still found herself tongue-tied and dumbfounded, unable to click to the rationale where she could stop the ever-urgent Agent Wickfield to stop rushing and let her catch a break. She had just watched in a daze as the agent drove her to the location – some unfamiliar eatery – while taking several calls and barking orders left, right and center. Salma was overwhelmed into compliance, to say the least.

Her phone beeped with a reply from the agent.

*Unknown: Read the menu. Choose a sandwich.

*Unknown: Just pretend to do so.

Salma took in another deep breath, trying to calm her nerves as she picked up the menu. She had caught a break, but now she was already in the thick of things. She might as well, do her best and not become collateral, Salma figured.

Someone pushed into her table in the passing. Already on the edge of her nerves, Salma gave a startled cry and jumped out of her seat. The man who had slipped on to her table pushed himself up.

"Urgh, apologies!" he muttered, his familiar rough voice froze her to the spot. "Did I just miss my target yet again?"

Salma felt like her soul had departed her body when the man raised his head. Underneath the baseball cap was the face of her nightmares.

" . . . he's out and I want to get him before he gets you so hurry along. . ."

Oh no!

"Hi bitch." He smirked.

Chris?!

Salma fingers were trembling so much, her cellphone slipped through her fingers. Her heart jumped to her throat. She felt like she was going to throw up.

"Are you okay, sir?"

As the waiter appeared by the man's side, Salma quickly grabbed her chance. Snatching her phone off the table, she made her way towards the exit.

"Try not to run," Alex warning from earlier rang like a buzzer in her head. "It could push him to put a bullet through your head."

Clenching her teeth in fear of a shot getting fired, Salma forced her feet to resist the urge to run. She saw the man hurriedly following her when Salma stepped out of the restaurant into the unfamiliar building block. The sludge gathered on the sides of the street squished under feet.

"Lead him away from the crowd," were the hasty instructions given to her in the van

Salma mixed into the crowd outside, while deliberately staying in his sight. She was supposed to act like she was trying to lose him, but in reality she had to make sure he followed her. Her unsteady feet skidded over the mix of snow and dirt. With a yelp, Salma grabbed a man walking ahead of her.

"Sorry!" she muttered, taking a quick left towards the underground parking lot.

She shut her eyes in fear, walking blindly. Salma could not resist pacing up. She knew full well there was a murderer on her tail.

You better not be secretly leading me to my death, Alex! Salma cried in her head as she went deeper into the deserted parking lot.

Barely had the thought crossed her mind that she felt the barrel of a gun press to the back of her head. Salma froze in fright, her nails digging into the palm of her hands inside the pocket of her coat.

"Make a move bitch, and they won't even find a body to bury," Chris warned, the levelness of his voice scarier than his threat.

Salma gulped, too scared to even breathe.

"Hands where I can see them." He nudged her with the gun. Salma unclenched her fists, and slowly brought her trembling hands out. She raised them above her head.

"Turn around," he ordered, "nice and slow."

Salma swallowed her fear again, her mouth felt dry. She had a feeling she did not have long to live. If she was to make it out of here alive, Alex would have taken him out already. A dry, ragged sob raked through her body when she realized this.

Slowly, she turned around to face her death. Her eyes zeroed on the barrel of the gun. She could barely see anything past the weapon. A scream formed in her throat but it never left her lips. So horrified was she, that everything except the emotion of fear seemed to have frozen over.

"I had my revenge planned against you a little differently," he said, baring his teeth. "but I suppose I really don't have the patience anymore."

Salma's lips parted but nothing except a strangled breath left her throat. Her heart started beating madly in her chest, trying, as if in a hurry to complete its count of beats. Her head was swimming and her ears had started ringing. She almost did not hear him say the last words.

"Goodbye bitch!"

There was a flash of white, and the earsplitting sound of the gun being shot. A screamed left Salma's lips. She crumpled on the floor of the parking lot, unmoving.

Author's Note:

😶

Lots of Love

J.