Sweet Submission (Devil's Sons Motorcycle Club Book 3) (7 page)

“Get out of my house!”

Sam turned to Afia before anyone could stop him. “I’ll be back for you,” he murmured.

Her scared eyes flew to Rayan, who launched himself up from the couch and threw himself at Sam. Rayan shoved Sam as hard as he could, sending the biker stumbling back. Rayan grabbed Sam by the collar of his jacket and succeeded in slinging him at the front door. “You heard my father,” he said with a malicious grin. “Get out of our house.”

Sam angrily straightened his jacket and looked one last time at the scene of destruction he was leaving in his wake. Nothing had gone according to plan, and it was all because Rayan was bound and determined to keep him apart from Afia. He scowled at his nemesis and jerked open the door, shutting it with force behind him as he walked out to his car. When he got inside the Pontiac, Sam slammed his hand against the steering wheel. “Damn you, Rayan!” he growled in impotent rage. There was nothing he could do but leave and try to figure out some way to get Afia out of the house at a later date.

CHAPTER 7

Afia had no more bow left in her spine. She stood to her full, modest height, adjusting her hijab over her glossy dark brown hair, as she squared her narrow shoulders and lifted her head defiantly.  She had just watched Sam walk out the door and realized she couldn’t bend to her parents’ or her brother’s wishes anymore.  But, disobeying her parents was easier in mind than in deed. Afia swallowed thickly. She opened her mouth to speak, but Rashad glared at her, as if daring her to make a sound. Afia wavered.

Her father looked so bitterly angry, but more than that, he looked disappointed in her. Rashad Amini was a short, proud man with a slightly balding head, and his paunch overhung his belt, but he was neatly dressed.  He had ethics and morals he had tried to instill into his offspring.  He planted his meaty hands on his hips and glared at Afia, not even wanting an explanation for why she had invited over the disrespectful American, knowing fully well there was no way they could accept him.  Nothing she could say would make the situation any better.

Rashad was livid. Sam Elison look like a gentleman, but he was no more that than a dog could be a man. He had come into Rashad’s home and spouted nonsense about being in love with his daughter, only to have it revealed that he had already deflowered her.  Rashad wouldn’t abide it.  Afia tried to speak again. Rashad shook his head viciously, pointing a finger at the girl standing in the center of the main room of the Amini house. “No,” he spat.

“Maman,” Afia turned to her mother, who had materialized back at the kitchen archway at the sound of the scuffle between Rayan and Sam.  

Fatima, too, couldn’t seem to hold her gaze. The diminutive housewife studied the floor, wringing her hands, refusing to talk for fear of what angry words would fly past her lips. Fatima had always had the hardest time bridling her tongue. She had suspected, nearly known, her daughter was out defiling herself. A man like Sam Elison wouldn’t have gotten up the courage to come to their door if he hadn’t at some point sampled Afia’s now tarnished goods. Fatima ground her teeth, suffering in silence, her expectations and hopes dashed.  Her daughter would never get a fine husband after this. 

Afia’s bitter hazel eyes flew to Rayan, the culprit in this. While her parents glowered at her like she was vile, her brother was openly drinking from his flask, leering at her with a smug grin. Rayan was back sprawled out on the living room couch with his shirt half open, a scruffy beard covering his handsome face, his dark brown eyes beady with malice.  His hand shook as he lifted the silver canteen to his lips and gulped the whiskey down. He gestured to her with the hand holding the flask. “You should have listened to me,” Rayan slurred.

“I have half a mind to put you out of this house myself,” Rashad growled to Afia. “But, that would only give you license to run back into the arms of your filthy lover. I will not condone it! I will not abide it! Not of my child.”

“Baba, I love him!” Afia shouted. “Tell me the wrong in a love that is sincere and all-encompassing, a love that would sacrifice so much and break so many boundaries just to flourish. You can lock me away in this house. You can send Sam away, but you can never take away the love that I have for him in my heart.”

She fled the room. She couldn’t stand beneath their accusing looks any longer. Afia pushed past her mother and through the archway of the living room. She raced down the hall to her bedroom. As she ran, tears cascaded down her face and sobs were torn from her chest. She couldn’t understand them, and it was clear they were making no attempts to understand her. Afia pushed open her bedroom door and slammed it shut behind her, marching to her bed and throwing herself down to the mattress.

She sniffed, eyes blinded by sorrow, and she tried to stop crying. Over and over the scene replayed in her head. Sam had been so respectful. He had pleaded his case so eloquently, merely asking them to give him a chance to show he would be a good husband to Afia. She had given up any hope of having him as her husband, so she hadn’t even broached the idea to her parents after the fall-out. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined he would show up at her house and ask her parents outright for her hand in marriage, but he had.

The interminable future lie ahead of her, a future in which he couldn’t take part. It was the hardest thing that Afia had ever had to encounter. She had endured the month of separation the first time when she had stayed away from Sam, trying to follow Rayan’s orders. She had almost been torn apart by missing him when her parents had confined her to their house in another attempt to keep the lovers separate. But, the prospect of never seeing him again, the prospect of Sam giving up after her family’s rude denial of the offer for marriage, made Afia’s throat constrict and her lungs wheeze for air. 

He had said he would come back for her, but she didn’t know how he’d possibly pull that off. She cried loudly and with abandon, pouring her sorrow into her pillows. Her body felt battered. Her shoulders shook uncontrollably, as she doubled over in the bed and wrapped her arms around herself. And then she abruptly stopped.

Because she was fed up with it. Bionca had been right. Afia couldn’t let them dictate her life.  The resentment that was already building up within was evidence that her parents, though well-intentioned, were potentially severing any chances of a relationship with their daughter.  Sam’s only error had been in asking for permission. Sniffling, Afia reached for her cellphone on the nightstand and began to dial his number.  Permission hadn’t been granted. Her parents would just have to forgive her, instead.

“Afia?” He answered in a rush, like he hadn’t expected her to call.

“Sam, I need you to meet me at the supermarket a few blocks away from my parents’ house. I’m getting out of here. I can’t be without you.”

“Darling, I miss you just as much. There’s no point in making them more upset tonight, though, and I don’t want you to be in any danger. Your father looked like he was ready to kill me when Rayan said—Let’s give them a chance to calm down and get comfortable with the idea of what’s done is done.”

“You don’t understand, Sam! They’ll never be comfortable with the idea.  My father intends that I never see you again. I’m not giving up, and you shouldn’t give up. Don’t you see? This is the only way! I’m leaving in a half hour. I have to pack a bag. Just be there.”

She hung up the phone before he had time to protest further, knowing instinctively that Sam wouldn’t let her down regardless of his qualms. He’d be at the supermarket. Afia pushed up off the bed and yanked a carry-on bag out of the top of her closet, stuffing a few articles of clothing within. She still had belongings at the apartment she had shared with Bionca prior to her Maman forcing her to come back to live in the family home.  Afia planned to retrieve those things as well.

She’d move back in with Bionca or move in with Sam, but she wasn’t staying here. There was no way she could allow her parents to rule over another minute of her life.  Meanwhile, while they browbeat her over dating Sam, their only son was deteriorating more and more right before their very eyes.  The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on her.

Rayan burst into her room as she was packing. “Where are you going?” he spat. “You’re not to leave the house.”

“Leave me alone, Rayan. You have no more control over me. You can’t even control yourself!”

He yanked at her arm. “Come here.”

Afia yelped at the squeezing pain of his grip. “Let me go!”

She tried to pull away from her brother, but she wasn’t as strong as Rayan. He dragged her out of her room with Afia literally kicking and screaming.  “I heard you on the phone,” he growled. “You want to meet that cur, I’ll take you to him myself. We have no more use for you in this family. You refuse to see the light, then dwell in darkness!”

“Rayan!” Rashad yelled.

“She will learn!” Rayan cried out savagely, as he pulled her resistant body through the living room and out the front door. Gravel kicked up beneath her shuffling feet, and Afia jerked and twisted. Still, Rayan held fast. He pulled open the car door in the backseat and shoved her inside. Rayan swiftly hit the child safety lock and slammed the door, blocking her from climbing back out. He stumbled over to the other side and did the same. Afia was trying to climb out through the space between the driver’s and passenger’s seats to get away. Rayan climbed into the driver’s seat and elbowed her back. 

Afia screamed, “I’m not going anywhere with you!”

He had been drinking.  She had no desire to ride anywhere with a drunk driver. Even if Rayan had no concern for his own life, Afia had reasons to live. She threw her body forward and reached for the keys, but he dangled them beyond her grasp with a nasty laugh. “You say we don’t support you and we try to control you? Well, which one is it, Afia? I’m only trying to give you what you asked now, and yet you still fight me,” he ground out.

The smell of liquor roiled off him in waves. Afia slumped back, tears streaming down her face. She stared wildly back at the house where her mother had run out behind them, but Rashad was pulling her back inside. If she knew her father, he was probably warning Fatima not to cause a scene.  Rashad would be appalled if their wealthy neighbors witnessed the family squabble.

It was dusk, and the streetlights were popping on along the tree-lined avenue. The houses of the neighborhood were well-kept and nice cars crowded the driveways. It was a picturesque, dreamy twilight setting, at odds with the scene taking place in the Amini yard.

Afia gasped for air, wondering at which point her life had become such a nightmare. “Fine, Rayan, fine!” she exploded. “Take me to the supermarket to meet Sam. He’ll be there shortly and take me off of all of your hands for good. I say goodbye and good riddance!”

Rayan jammed the key in the ignition and shot backwards out of the driveway at alarming speeds. Afia was slung to the side and scrambled into her seatbelt, gripped by panic. He was really doing it. Her heart hammered beneath her chest as the car struggled to remain on the right side of the road. Her brother’s driving was erratic and far too fast for safety. Trees were a shadowy blur.

He careened through a curve and bounced over a dip in the road, darting into the stream of traffic on the main highway, as she clung on for dear life. The vehicle narrowly missed clipping another car.  Horns honked. “You’ll kill us both!” she protested to no avail.

“You’re already dead to me, Afia! I showed you nothing but love and respect, k-kindness and consideration. I wanted nothing…nothing but the best for you,” he sputtered the words in a drunken stammer. He slammed on brakes as the truck in front of him eased to a halt at a red light. Rayan whipped around the truck and powered onward, blithely ignoring the traffic signal. A car with the right-of-way screeched and squealed, fishtailing to avoid colliding with them, and Afia screamed in terror.

“Why are you doing this to me?!” she shouted.

He shouted back mockingly, “Why are you doing this to me? Why are you doing this to me, Afia?”

“I’m not doing anything to you, brother, please!” She changed her tone, realizing her anger and fear were only driving his outrage.  She leaned forward with tears streaming down her face and told him sincerely, “I love you with all my heart, Rayan. I always looked up to you. I know that you’ve been going through some troubles, and I only wanted to get you some help. But, this situation with me and Sam has nothing to do with you. I’m not trying to defy you or Maman and Baba. I just want to live!”

“You selfish girl, when will you learn?” he sounded incredulous. “Look at me, Afia. No one is perfect, but we all have a role we have to play. I play mine. You were supposed to play yours. All you had to do…all you had to do was marry Jabar.”

Afia shook her head in confusion. She didn’t understand. “Rayan, I couldn’t marry Jabar. I didn’t love Jabar.”

“I said play your role!” he shouted furiously.

The wheel jerked in his rage. Afia yelled, “Look out!” The Camaro swerved into oncoming traffic, and a semi-truck barreled towards them.  He pulled back into his lane dangerously slowly.  Afia sobbed in horror. “Do you intend to kill me?”

They were driving past the supermarket. She realized too late Rayan had never had any intention of taking her to Sam.  He was on a death mission.  “I told you. You’re dead to me,” he said with menacing calm.

“Please don’t,” she pleaded.

“Had you married the doctor, all of my problems would have been handled.”