The Sheik's Ruby (30 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Moore

BOOK: The Sheik's Ruby
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Hakim could tell his father was hurt at seeing his son so distressed.

He put his hand on Hakim’s shoulder. “If you were in danger, I would wish to know.”

“I know. It is my responsibility, but…”

“But you are afraid. You are afraid to cause Shelby’s parents the same pain you feel. You do not want them to agonize day and night over her safety as you do. As a father, I must insist that you call them.”

Hakim nodded. He knew his father was right. It was only a matter of time before Shelby’s parents or the media picked up an internet transmission and learned about Shelby’s capture. “I will call.”

The Sheik exited the room to allow Hakim privacy.

He scrolled through the contacts on his cell phone, his pulse pounding so hard that his fingers ached.

“Hello?”

At the sound of Shelby’s mother’s voice, Hakim’s throat went dry and he swallowed hard. “Hello, Debbie. It is Hakim.”

“Oh, hi, Hakim. I’m so glad you called. I haven’t heard from Shelby in a few days. The two of you must be having so much fun that she hasn’t had time to call or email.”

Guilt slammed hard, and Hakim pressed his eyes shut. “Debbie, I…”

“Is something wrong, dear? Is Shelby okay?”

At the sound of her last question, Hakim heard her voice lose its levity. He cleared his dry throat. “Debbie, I am so sorry. Shelby has been taken.”

Silence stretched across the line before Debbie responded. “Taken? I don’t…what do you mean?”

A knot twisted in Hakim’s stomach. “We believe she was kidnapped by a terrorist group that—”

“Kidnapped! How? No. It can’t—not my Shelby―” Debbie’s voice dropped from a scream to little more than a whimper.

“We are doing our best to locate her, but—” Hakim heard movement on the other end of the line.

“Who is this?” Burke said into the phone.

“Burke, it is Hakim.”

“Hakim? What’s happening? Where’s Shelby?”

“I am so sorry, Burke.” Hakim coughed as he pushed the words through his constricting throat. “But Shelby has been kidnapped.” He could hear Debbie crying in the background as he told Shelby’s father what had happened, and what they knew.

Burke was devastated. He pleaded with Hakim for details, grasping at straws, trying to think of different avenues the security team may have missed. There must be something they hadn’t tried. Burke wanted to come to Khali-dar immediately and help in the search, but Hakim convinced him to wait. He would keep them informed of any new developments and send a plane within the next few days

As the call ended, Burke spoke in a choked shaking voice. “Please, Hakim, please find my girl.”

“I promise, I will not rest until she is safe.”

Chapter Twenty

Hakim opened the door and stepped inside. Any other time, his presence in Shelby’s room would be completely inappropriate, but he felt desperate to be near anything that would make him feel close to her.

Her old laptop sat on the desk. Hadn’t he told Shanayze to get her a new computer? Shelby had probably refused. He pulled out a picture from where Shelby had tucked it into her mirror frame. Shanayze had taken it on the night of the reception. Shelby looked radiant. He remembered how nervous she had been and how he had kissed her goodnight. That night seemed so long ago. He put back the picture and picked up another, smiling when he saw Shelby and Kadir. The stable boy wore a cowboy hat, and the two stood outside the stable, pointing their fingers like pistols at the camera. Hakim lifted a framed picture of Shelby’s family.

Seeing her mother’s face, Hakim felt pain pierce his heart, remembering the grief in Debbie’s voice on the phone. Through the entire conversation, Shelby’s parents had never blamed Hakim. Although he thought it would have been easier to endure their anger rather than their anguish. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he thought of the pain Shelby’s family was enduring.

Hakim carefully replaced the pictures and continued around the room. A stack of books stood on the table next to her bed. Arabic, Khali-dar history. Thumbing through them, he found the letter he had written on Shelby’s first morning in the palace. She must’ve been using it as a bookmark.

As he passed her closet, he spotted the Arabian clothing she had worn to the desert. She had looked so beautiful and happy. His Arabian princess. He remembered how he had joked with her about leaving her in the desert and how her eyes had shined when Elder Malik complimented her. He touched the blouse, feeling the soft silk between his fingers, and thought about how Shelby’s body had molded to his as she slept on the ride home. He let go of the shirt and tried to remember what she had been wearing the last time he saw her. Jeans, a blouse, and of course, her red boots.

With a groan, he sank on the small sofa and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. The same questions that had plagued him for days pounded in his brain. Was she warm at night? Was she comfortable? Hungry? In pain? How were they treating her? Would he ever see Shelby again? Hakim had never felt so desperate, angry, and helpless in his life.

****

When the timid woman came again, Shelby found the entire outer room filled with people. For some reason, the sight felt ominous, and Shelby shook with fear.

The room was small, and the people packed there made it even smaller. She counted at least twenty. Men wearing
dishdashas
lounged on cushions on the floor. A group of women dressed in traditional black
abayas
and headscarves, and even some wearing full black
burqas
, were crowded together near the kitchen.

Shelby had to walk close as she passed. She looked into each of the women’s eyes, searching for the smallest sign of pity. There was none. As her gaze moved toward the men in the room, Shelby felt a jolt of recognition. Even though he turned away and covered his face, Shelby couldn’t mistake the drooping eye.
Usman
. What was he doing here? She kept her face neutral, as if she hadn’t seen him, stifling the impulse to run and beg him to get her out of here. Instead, she concentrated on the different people. Trying to figure out the dynamic of the group. Who was the leader?

All of the people watched as Shelby walked past.

She knew from the expressions on their faces that she was being displayed.

Mr. Hairy and company were showing off. A few of the men laughed.

They spoke words that she didn’t understand, but knew must be insults.
Cowards. They wouldn’t dare talk like that to me if I wasn’t a prisoner
. However, she gave no sign that she heard or understood them. Chin lifted high, she marched to the bathroom, ignoring them all. She closed the bathroom door and leaned against it, trying to calm her pounding heart. Instinctively, she’d known not to show any fear. She breathed deeply and splashed water on her face. When she came out, she heard some of the men talking.

“Two days.” One man typed on a laptop.

Shelby thought he looked like a typical techie, even though he wore a
dishdasha
and
keffiya
instead of a Sci-Fi T-shirt and ripped jeans.

Usman stood near him, his face turned away.

Shelby couldn’t understand what the other men said. The only phrases she understood were: “Prince Hakim,” “valuable,” and “won’t refuse.”

She returned to the cold closet with all the dignity she could muster. After she closed the door, she wondered what they were talking about. But only a second passed before she knew with a sinking heart that
she
was valuable.
She
was what the prince would not refuse.
She
would be used to force Hakim into doing what these people wanted. And
she
had just two days to figure out what to do about it.

Hearing voices outside, Shelby leaned her ear against the door, listening closely. One word was repeated over and over. She didn’t recognize it, but she knew it was important. Even the shrill-voiced screaming lady was saying it.
Al-Khalija.
They talked about things happening ‘at’
Al-Khalija
or going ‘to’
Al-Khalija.
She wished she understood more. Besides the talk about the big deal going down with the prince, she also heard talk about a major event happening on May first.

May first. The day of the derby. Shelby felt a heaviness in her heart. She imagined how it would have been to wear a big hat and sit next to Hakim as they cheered for his horses.
There is always next year, right?
But she was pretty sure there wouldn’t be a next year. Even if she got out of this prison, she had no idea what the future would hold for their relationship.

She had done the right thing. She couldn’t keep living a life that didn’t belong to her, one where she was being someone else. But thinking about leaving Hakim caused such pain it took her breath away.

With her wrists untied, Shelby worked the aches out of her shoulders and made sure to switch her position often to keep her muscles from stiffening. She didn’t have high hopes that there would be a chance to escape, but if the opportunity did present itself, she wanted to be ready. As she listened through the door over the next few days, Shelby often heard what she thought was one side of a phone conversation. Sometimes, she heard more people talking in the outer room, but they never strayed far from their regular topics. May first.
Al-Khalija
. They appeared to be spreading the word. Letting everyone know their plan. She blew out an agitated breath, wishing she could figure out a way to warn Hakim.

Shelby was woken suddenly from her sleep and yanked out of her prison. Someone forced her hands behind her and tied her wrists together. A bag was crammed over her head, and she was half-led and half-dragged into the main room where she was pushed down onto her knees.

She heard men speaking, but the movement around her prevented her from hearing anything clearly until the bag was torn off. Looking around disoriented, she saw the men all wore scarves, concealing their faces. They held guns, pointed at her.

She wanted to scream, but suppressed it. Her breath came fast. She could feel her heart pounding so hard that thumps sounded in her ears. She darted her gaze around. A red light caught her eye, glowing from the top of a video camera sitting on a tripod.

After days of waiting, finally some action was being taken. They were filming her and trying to make her appear as vulnerable as possible for Hakim. For his sake, she knew she must show no fear.

****

Hakim sat at Shelby’s desk, holding the picture from the reception as he had so many times before when he heard a noise outside the door.

“Your Highness!” Nasir burst into the room. “A video is being streamed onto the internet. It is Miss Walker.”

Hakim and Nasir ran to the security office where the Sheik and various security agents waited. They all stood around a large computer monitor as the technical analyst pulled up the grainy image.

Six masked men wearing military clothes and holding automatic weapons stood shoulder to shoulder in a cement room.

Nasir squinted and leaned closer to the screen. “M249 military-issue automatic machine guns,” he said. “Probably close to twenty-five years old, cumbersome, with an exposed hot barrel. They look impressive, but these weapons haven’t been retrofitted with the latest upgrade, and see how the men are awkwardly holding the sharp edges against their bodies. They have no experience with these guns. Amateurs.”

Even with a cloth bag on her head and her arms tied behind her back, Hakim recognized Shelby as an unidentified masked man led her into the room.

He shoved her roughly to her knees and uncovered her face.

Hakim grasped the back of the analyst’s chair.

Shelby was thinner, her hair was wild, and for a moment, she appeared as though she would completely succumb to her panic. However, composing herself, she lifted her chin and gazed at the camera with an expression of confidence.

Nasir nodded and muttered, “Good girl. Do not show them any fear. Doing so will only increase their power over you.”

Hakim stared at the screen and vaguely registered Nasir and the other security agents discussing the images.

Nasir pointed toward the screen. “The windows are covered to prevent any type of location analysis based on the sun or surrounding buildings.” He moved his finger, indicating the men. “They stand too close together and hold their weapons nervously. Obviously, they are not soldiers, making the situation all the more dangerous for Miss Walker.”

One of the masked men stepped close behind Shelby as he spoke. “And so you see, dear Prince,” he spat out the word. “
Nahl
has something that is very valuable to you.” He stroked the side of Shelby’s face with the barrel of his gun.

Trembling, Shelby closed her eyes.

Hakim’s breathing came in gasps—his knuckles turned white as he tightened his grip on the chair.

The man continued, “We have a few simple requests. The current government is corrupt and allying itself foolishly with Western countries. The ways of our Fathers are being forgotten in favor of modernism. This must end!” He pointed his finger at the camera.

The men behind him cheered.

“We demand Sheik Rashid and his son Hakim leave the country and never return. They will be replaced by men who believe in the Traditions of Khali-dar. Alliances with Western countries will be cut off, and the kingdom will be returned to its former self-sufficiency and glory. We also demand our brothers who have been wrongfully imprisoned be freed immediately. They are innocent and should be regarded as heroes of Khali-dar for attempting to rid the kingdom of corrupt leaders.”

Hakim felt his chest tighten. He glanced at his father and saw the Sheik’s face was pale and his eyes hard.

“Now,” he spoke in English as he knelt and put his face next to Shelby’s. “I would like for Prince Hakim’s
consort to add her voice to our cause.”

Although his accent sounded thick, the taunting tone came through loud and clear. Hakim cursed between clenched teeth.

“Go ahead, Shelby Walker. Tell your prince to do as we say. Plead with him to save you.” As he spoke, he curled his fingers around her neck.

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