Surprisingly, she held my stare with the strength of the queen she was. “Well,” she sighed. “He’s not going to be home till late.” She used her hands to spin the wheelchair around and started to move slowly. “So, come on in, I guess.”
We followed closely behind her, and when she made it into the cozy-looking family room, she settled herself in front of the heater, taking in its warmth, rubbing her legs and wincing. She looked back and swept an arm out toward the sofa. “Sit.”
Before I sat, I went to her and held out my hand. “Phone.”
Looking up at me with those haunting eyes, she pulled her cell out from under the blanket, and I saw the Messages screen was opened and the single word written there was Help. Luckily, she hadn’t sent it yet. My eyes narrowed on her and she shrugged, appearing mildly sheepish. “Can’t blame me for trying.”
No, I couldn’t.
While Happy and Julius sat on the sofa with their guns out, I pulled up a stool from the breakfast bar and sat by the frail-looking woman. She watched me closely, and I uttered, “You probably don’t remember me—”
But she cut me off with a matter-of-fact, “I remember you.”
Okay. Good.
That was good.
Then she knew what I was capable of.
We didn’t speak for a while after that, but when the hour mark passed, I was getting bored of waiting. When I saw the woman’s eyes blink slowly, tiredly, I cleared my throat. The second her weary eyes settled on me, I uttered, “What’s wrong with you?”
The words weren’t cruel, just curious.
She smiled sadly. “Multiple Sclerosis.”
I sighed in sympathy, shaking my head lightly. “Sorry.”
“That’s okay.” She grinned, but it was so strained it came out a grimace. “Maybe you’ll put me out of my misery tonight.”
No, I wouldn’t. “Yeah, maybe.”
Another hour and I was ready to ask the now sleeping woman if she had a deck of cards or checkers or some-fuckin’-thing—anything, to help pass the time.
That was when the garage door opened and heavy footfalls approached. “Asya?” Before he entered, she stirred, blinking through sleep. He called out, “The fucking servers are offline again.” He sounded frustrated. “I swear to God, tatlim. I’ve had it with this monitoring bullshit. It’s like I’m paying them to dick me arou—”
When he stepped into the family room, his eyes settled on me sitting by his wife, and when he saw the groggy state of her, he lunged. “You prick.” He rushed forward, and Happy and Julius stood, pointing their weapons at him. Panting, Aslan had the good sense to put his hands up and take a step back. He looked at me, his nostrils flaring in anger. He spoke through gritted teeth, “She’s ill.”
I used the barrel of my gun to scratch my temple. “I can see that.” I looked back at Asya, who was now looking at her husband with wide, apologetic eyes, and I turned back to him. “I’ve been a perfect gentleman, haven’t I, Asya?”
The vein in Aslan’s temple bulged as his face screwed up and he threw a pointed finger at me. He hissed out, “You don’t speak her name!”
He clearly loved this woman. What the fuck was he doing with Ling?
I chanced a look at the woman.
The only thing that made sense was that he wasn’t getting sex at home.
My lips thinned.
Bad choices led to bad circumstances, and he was stuck now. I hoped Ling was worth it.
“I’m fine,” said the woman beside me. “He hasn’t done anything, askim.” She blinked at me, swallowing hard. “Not yet.”
Relief washed over Aslan and he tried to calm himself. He looked between the three of us vigilantly, taking in his position, his surroundings. His impending doom. “Why are you here?”
“You know why, Sadik.” My tone low, I uttered, “I’m here about a woman.”
Aslan looked confused.
“A woman who up until a couple weeks ago thought I was dead.”
The fucking Turk started to catch on.
“A deadly viper,” I explained. “A Dragon who came to my home in the middle of the night, made a threatening gesture to my woman, and put a target on her pretty little head.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he uttered, but his narrowed eyes spoke volumes.
He was willing to talk, but not in front of his wife.
Well, fuck him.
I never did play by the rules. Had he forgotten who I was?
The throne belonged to someone else, but we all knew if I wanted it back, all I had to do was claim it as mine.
“Sure you do,” muttered Julius. “You’ve spent almost every night in her city apartment till the early hours of the morning.” He looked to Asya. “What? You didn’t know your husband was fucking The Dragon Queen?” When Asya’s already pale face turned porcelain and she looked to her husband in question, Julius tossed her his phone. “Got some nice photos there for ya, princess.” He turned back to Aslan. “Oh, I’m sorry. Was that ‘need to know’ bullshit?”
Asya scrolled through the photos and her panting increased. When the phone fell from her hands to the hardwood floor with a bang, she sounded as if she were choking, and when she lifted her trembling hands to her mouth, shaking her head softly, she settled her teary eyes on her husband, now knowing the level of his betrayal.
Aslan swallowed hard. “It’s not what it looks like,” he told her, but it sounded weak to everyone in the room.
“I’m gonna tell you this once, Sadik,” I said before I offered my advice. “There is something wrong with that woman. Ling is a plague on this world. She will ruin your life in every way possible, and when you don’t give her what she wants—” I looked to Asya but spoke to her husband. “—she’ll start fucking with the things you love.” I faced him and watched his face fall. “It’s not her fault; she just doesn’t know any better.” I warned him, “You can’t fix her. What’s broken inside of her, it can’t be repaired.”
Aslan looked to his wife, wearing a sadness I’d never seen the normally confident man wear. “It wasn’t planned,” he told her, his rough voice wavering. “I’m so sorry, sultanim.”
I could see it was starting to sink in, but I needed them to know what my position was on the fucking Turk’s relationship with The Dragon Queen.
Turning to the woman beside me, I held out my hand, and she reluctantly placed her shaking fingers into my expended palm. I spoke to her directly; fuck her husband. “I have a confession to make. I didn’t come here to hurt you, but—” As she blinked, her lashes dampened. “—I can see that’s what I’ve done here, so, I’m sorry.” I patted her cold hand and licked my lips. “Your husband has a choice to make, and I hope he makes the right one, because—” I peered into her eyes needing her to see just how serious I was. “—if I come back here and you catch me again,” I uttered somberly, “I’mma be the last thing you ever see, princess.”
She took in a shaking breath before she nodded in understanding.
I placed her hand onto her knee, covering it with my own as I focused on the broken man across the room. “What you need to understand, Aslan, is that Ling might be crazy, but...” I released his wife’s hand and stood, walking over to him, and when I spoke again, my tone was black. “But I taught her everything she knows.” I stepped in close, and muttered quietly, “You want crazy, bruh?” My hooded gaze lowered on him as my lip curled. “Fuck with my family, and I’ll show you Ling’s crazy has got nothin’ on mine.”
I looked him up and down, then whispered, “You made vows to that woman, you piece of shit. That mean nothing to you?” I watched his face crumble. “She’s sick.” The first of his tears fell. “She needs her husband, and you leave her alone to go screw a diagnosed psychopath?” He closed his eyes, and I muttered, “What’s the matter with you? Get your shit together and be the fucking man your wife needs while you still got the time.”
When he trembled with the extent of the emotion he tried to keep inside h
im, gun in hand, I twisted back, and asked, “Yo, Asya? You want me to off this punk for you?”
“No!” she cried, her body shaking with the force of her sobs. “No, please. Please don’t.” She reached for the man who didn’t deserve her, and wept quietly, “Please. I love him.”
Aslan cried openly then, and I saw nothing but shame in his eyes.
Good. I was done here.
I lifted my hand and poked him in the chest. “You’ve been touched by an angel.”
And with that, we left, leaving a trail of bloody broken hearts between us.
***
Aslan The Fucking Turk
We sat in silence for what seemed like hours before she spoke.
“Her?”
The level of betrayal in her voice cut me hard. But Asya deserved the truth, so I would give that to her, even though my voice shook. “Yes.”
With that single word, my wife was destroyed. I watched from across the room as she wept in complete silence, and in that moment, I felt completely unworthy of the princess turning her wheelchair away from me to cry in privacy.
Tonight, my world fell apart, and I had nobody to blame but myself.
I wanted to beat something senseless. I wanted to be alone. I needed to get away, but I couldn’t leave her.
She sniffled then took in a deep breath, attempting to steady the wavering of her voice, and what she said slayed me. “I didn’t mean to get sick on you, Az.” She spun her chair around to face me. “I know we said forever, but—” Her lips trembled. “—forever is coming sooner for us than we hoped, and—” Another set of tears fell. “—I’m so sorry for that. I’m sorry our forever was only temporary.” Her quiet sob was my undoing. “I never meant for this to happen, hayatim.”
It didn’t hit me until she said it that I might have felt betrayed by her getting ill.
I was a bad man, yes. But I’d never been a bad husband. Until now.
And knowing that broke me.
Without a moment’s hesitance, I went to my Turkish princess and knelt in front of her. The action alone spoke volumes. To be submissive was not in my nature, but I would surrender to her, time and time again, because she was worthy.
My voice rough, I uttered, “I’ve disappointed you, karim.”
She looked at me with a deep sadness. “As I’ve disappointed you.”
I was a demon.
Who was I to make such a pure soul feel a disappointment when she did nothing but shine through the darkness that consumed me?
I was indeed a fiend. A villain.
When she reached out for me, I met her halfway, taking her delicate hand in mine. Those pretty doe eyes I’d always adored held mine, as she whispered, “Seni seviyorum.”
I love you.