The Widow's Keeper Read online

  “Coming!” She looked up at the image in the mirror and shook her head. Pappa’s blood pressure would double if she went out looking the way she did. Ally opened her drawer and retrieved her makeup bag and a hair tie. After smoothing out the top of her hair, she bunched her thick curls into her fist and twisted the band tight around the ponytail. She took out her beige tube of concealer and spread it over the black circles etched under her eyes.

  Once the areas under her eyes and the dark hollows beneath her cheekbones were the same shade of brown as the rest of her face, she put away her makeup. Ally stared at the bathroom door, willing herself to leave. Instead of moving toward it, her legs propelled her backwards into the master closet. She turned on the light and shut the door behind her. Tight muscles relaxed the minute the faint scent of cedar and musk filled her lungs. It was the only space that still smelled like him.

  She took her time changing, and once she finished, picked up the worn leather backpack in the corner and headed to the large suitcase leaning against the far end of the room. Ally lowered to her knees, unzipping the luggage enough to get her hand through. When her fingers brushed against smooth plastic, she grabbed one of the packets and pulled it out, quickly sealing the suitcase shut and returning it to its spot. Ally tucked the bag into her brown leather backpack and headed to the kitchen. It was time to face the family.

  As soon as she walked in, she wished she’d stayed in the closet. Instead of two sets, four pairs of eyes stared back at her. Her big brother, Nik Bhai, her sister, Reya, and her parents were all seated around the table. Considering it was the middle of the week and her siblings both worked, their visit had a purpose. Her. She slid into one of the two seats still vacant and stared at the cup of chai in front of her.

  Her father cleared his throat. “Alisha, I called the family together because we need to talk with you.”

  He averted his gaze when their eyes locked. She watched him adjust his glasses and shift in his seat. Her mother grabbed Ally’s hand and gave it a squeeze.

  “A woman from the Counter Terrorism Department contacted me last night. She said you’ve been calling them daily, sometimes two times, asking about David’s car accident.”

  She leaned forward on her elbows, her pulse rising. “What did she say?”

  Silence weighed heavy in the room. Pappa scratched the top of his almost-bald head and cleared his throat. Her brother’s chair creaked when he leaned back. Bhai resembled his father minus thirty years and, unlike Pappa, had a thick head of black hair. He raised his brows at the patriarch, encouraging him to continue.

  “Well?” Ally’s face heated as the two men silently communicated with each other. After all the messages she’d left, they’d finally called back, but not to speak with her. She pulled her hand out of her mom’s grasp and locked gazes with the only person who would look back, her baby sister. “Rey, can you please tell me what she said?”

  Rey opened her mouth but Alisha’s father answered. “She said you are harassing them. To tell you there is no investigation and to stop calling.”

  “Harassing them?” She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. “Trying to get answers about my husband’s death bothers them?” Ally kept her voice low as she scanned their faces. “Is that what you told David when he searched for me?”

  Reya reached across and tried to grab her hand. “It’s not the same situation, Di. We didn’t know if you were alive or dead. There is no question Dave is dead. We all saw him in the coffin.”

  Ally pulled her hand away and curled her fingers into her palm. “I know my husband is dead,” she whispered.

  Not a single person in the room met her gaze. “Every night I go to bed dreading the morning because once I wake up I will have to remember my David is dead.” Although her words were spoken softly, it felt like she screamed them. Four months later, uttering the statement had the same impact as someone ripping her lungs and heart out of her body.

  “We wouldn’t know what you think because you won’t tell us.” The hurt in Reya’s tone stung.

  Ally shook her head. “I don’t tell you because you don’t understand. You can’t understand.” She had to get away from them. Away from their looks of pity, their disappointment, and their judgment. She rose to her feet and snatched the backpack from the floor.

  Her brother grabbed her wrist when she walked past. “Let it go, Ally. The police and everyone else believe there was nothing suspicious about the accident.”

  She glared at him. “Two people can look at the same situation and see two different things. You are allowed to perceive his accident one way, and I am allowed to perceive it another.”

  Nik cut her a look. “Your way is wrong. Your story is created by grief and a need to somehow keep him alive.”

  The corner of Ally’s mouth curved up. “Wow, Bhai, you should give up pediatrics and go into psychiatry.”

  He rolled his eyes but didn’t respond.

  She twisted her hand out of his grasp and pointed at herself. “What I believe?” Ally took a step backward from him. “Is the truth. There is no way he would have just stopped his car in the middle of the road. Something made him stop. And no, I don’t think it was a cat or a dog or that he was so sleepy that he decided to park his car and take a nap in the middle of the road.”

  She walked out of the kitchen and grabbed her sneakers from the coat closet. Her eyes burned with emotion. Ally blinked it away and sat on the sofa as she worked on untying the knots in her laces.

  I’m alone. The realization crept into her consciousness the moment she had lost him. And with every passing day, the darkness grew heavier. No matter how many people suffocated her with their presence, the isolation persevered. Sometimes, in her lowest moments, she found herself wishing she could go back in time. Back to when she was locked away in Sayeed’s compound being tortured.

  The sofa shifted when her sister slid onto the cushion next to her. Ally’s fingers shook, making it hard to undo the knotted lace of her shoe.

  Rey grabbed the sneaker out of her hand. “Di, some shitty things have happened to you. You’ve had to survive them all and then lose Dave.” Her sister’s voice cracked. “That would put me over the edge, too.” Reya placed the unknotted shoe back in Ally’s lap.

  “You think I’ve gone over the edge?” she whispered. Her sister’s words didn’t surprise her. They had just never been uttered out loud before. It was also the reason why Ally had stopped talking to them about her suspicions.

  Bhai positioned himself on the coffee table in front of her. “We think you need more help than you’re getting.”

  She pulled the shoe onto her foot and then worked on unknotting the other one. “You’ve already increased my meds, and I’m in counseling twice a week. How much more help are you wanting me to get?”

  He cleared his throat. “The woman from the agency told Pappa about an intensive trauma treatment center for people who’ve gone through things like you have.”

  She paused mid-lace. “And what exactly have I gone through?”

  Bhai averted his gaze and shifted in his seat. “The rape and kidnapping.”

  Ally nodded and returned to working on her shoes so she could get away from them.

  “We all believe you need to go there.”

  The emotion in her mother’s voice made her look over at the woman standing in the hall. Her face glistened, wet with tears, and Pappa stood beside her, holding her hand. “Every night you wake up screaming, and then we’re finding you asleep in your closet. It’s not normal.”

  She rose. “Please tell me what exactly is the normal way a woman should mourn the loss of her husband?”

  Mummy’s gaze locked with hers, but her father answered. “By grieving and letting your family comfort you. Creating untrue stories about things are not going to help you heal. You have to let him go.”

  Ally clenched her fists as she looked at every person in the room. “Is this what the people at the center told you to say to me when you stag
ed this intervention?”

  The room fell silent as each person looked away.

  Rey hugged her and rested her chin on Ally’s shoulder. “Di, we all love you very much, and no matter who told us to say what, this is the truth. No one person should have to survive the shit you’ve had to endure. There’s nothing wrong with getting help.”

  She sucked in a breath and didn’t bother arguing. Help was exactly the reason she’d called the agency. Ally shook her head and headed for the table by the door where she and David kept their keys.

  “I’ve researched this place,” Rey said from behind her.

  The keys were missing. She opened the drawer and found it empty. “Did they tell you to hide my keys, too?”

  Her sister ignored her question and continued to sell the institute. “It’s an eight-week intensive program run by the U.S. government in Germany for soldiers struggling with post-traumatic stress. They don’t normally allow civilians in.” Rey cleared her throat. “But since your situation is a little different, they are offering you a spot.”

  “It sounds like a great opportunity, but I’m not going.” Screw the keys. Ally turned and headed for the door.

  “Let her go. She needs some time.” Her brother’s words rang true; she needed time. Time to figure out what to do because there was no way in hell she was leaving her home.

  As soon as she exited the apartment complex and her feet hit the sidewalk, Ally started to run. My David is dead. The words continued to echo in her head, growing louder with each step. She made her way down several blocks of sidewalk, and when she turned into the park, she broke into a sprint. She was almost home.

  CHAPTER TWO

  FIGHTING DEMONS

  FIVE MONTHS POST-RESCUE

  Dave stopped short at the entrance of the park. He leaned forward, planted his palms on his thighs, and tried to catch his breath. Adrenaline surged through him as his heart pumped an erratic beat. The three blocks he’d sprinted clearly had something to do with his current physical state, but just a small bit. The real reason for his panic sat on a park bench a few yards away, alone, with her back to him.

  Terror had taken residence in his throat for the past forty-five minutes. Now seeing her with his own eyes, it eased a little, and he was finally able to swallow it down. He wiped the perspiration off his forehead with the edge of his sweat-soaked tee all while keeping his gaze fixed on her. No way in hell was he letting Ally out of his sight again.

  A thousand questions raced through his head, but the most important ones were now answered. She was alive. Safe.

  Waking up at six in the morning to an empty bed and apartment had scared the living shit out of him. Not only had she disappeared, she hadn’t answered any of his calls, and no one knew her location. Once upon a time, it wouldn’t have been a big deal, but everything changed with her kidnapping and the years of torture she endured at the hands of bastard Sayeed.

  In the five months since her rescue and return home, this was the first time Ally had gone anywhere alone. While he searched the apartment for her, images of finding her blood and shoe in a parking lot almost three years ago flooded him, suffocating him. This couldn’t be happening. Not again.

  It took him a moment to shake off the panic, and when he did, his brain started working. He searched his bathroom drawer for the card his buddy in the CIA gave him. Eddie had said if anything suspicious arose to call the number, and the person on the other end would help. Thank God, he was right. The woman who answered took down his information, and then after what seemed like a decade, called him back, told him his wife was in Fairmount Park, even specified which entrance he should take and which bench. As soon as he hung up, he threw on some clothes and ran.

  The three blocks to get to Ally felt like three hundred. The urgency to be near her fueled him, pushing his legs to pump faster, harder. Ally out there alone in the world terrified him. Not only because of his own crazy issues about losing her again but also because of the shit Sayeed did to her. Hell, it took her months before she could close the bathroom door all the way, and now she’d wandered out of the apartment into the city alone?

  Once he steadied his breathing and his hands weren’t shaking anymore, he walked as casually as possible in her direction. Almost three years of hell faded as he approached. She sat cross-legged on the bench, dressed in jogging clothes and sneakers with her thick, black hair pulled back in a tight ponytail. Her brown skin glowed against the backdrop of the green and red autumn foliage. Aside from the death grip she had on the poor bag of pistachios in her lap, she appeared relaxed and at ease.

  His chest tightened. Her MO. The calm, carefree look she let the outside world see. Sometimes she covered it so well, she even fooled him. But the white knuckles always gave her away.

  Once upon a time, Ally used to come to this park and run along the river. She said it centered her, gave her a high. The small seed of hope he kept shoving down began to sprout again. Maybe the outdoors would help center her again. Granted, she’d never be the same, but he ached for her to smile the way she used to. The kind of smile where not only the edges of those full, sexy lips lifted, but the corners of her big brown eyes did, too.

  When Ally reached into the bag and pulled out a shelled pistachio, her gaze locked with his. The immediate flash of fear on her face when she noticed him didn’t sting as much as it used to. She slammed her lids shut and sucked in a breath, releasing it slowly. Once she exhaled, she nodded and stared out at the river. “I should have left you a note.”

  He cleared his throat and grinned. “That would have been nice. Or maybe answered one of my calls.”

  Although she kept her gaze on the water, her perfectly arched black brows rose. “You called?”

  He shrugged. “Not too many times. Only about seven or so.”

  She pulled the phone from her backpack, and then cringed at whatever she saw on its screen. “Sorry, I didn’t hear it. You’re mad, aren’t you?”

  He shook his head. “No. Not yet, anyway. But the thought you might be dead or almost dead did wander into my mind a couple hundred times, which is why I really need to touch and feel you right now.”

  She got up and wrapped her arms around him. From the way she held on tight, he wasn’t the only one relieved. Dave rested his chin on her head and held her close. Feeling her skin against his, knowing her heart beat so close to his, this was what centered him.

  “It was very inconsiderate of me after everything you’ve gone through.” Her words were mumbled, probably because of how tight he crushed her to him. Not that it mattered; he had no plans of loosening his grip.

  “What happened?” He kept his voice low and calm, void of the worries consuming him.

  She shrugged but didn’t answer.

  He rolled his eyes. “After the multiple almost-heart attacks I had in the past half hour, you’ve gotta give me something here.”

  Her head bobbed under his chin. “I couldn’t sleep, so I went to the kitchen and heard your cell phone beep. I didn’t mean to read the message, but the screen kept flashing on the counter.”

  He frowned. He didn’t remember seeing any new messages. “I don’t care if you read my…”

  “It was from her.”

  Dave winced at the way Ally said her. He held her tighter, fighting the urge to pull out his cell and scroll through his messages.

  Blond and blue-eyed, Kate had been his saving grace when he’d lost Ally, and he’d relied on her companionship a lot to help him through. But he always felt guilty. Guilty he didn’t love her the way she loved him. Guilty he was in some way cheating on the only woman he’d ever loved by being with her, even though he had no reason to believe Ally was even alive back then. Regardless, the fact she’d texted and Ally saw it wasn’t a good sign.

  He cleared his throat and dreaded the answer to the question he needed to ask. “What did it say?”

  She shifted her weight and shrugged. “She missed you and still loved you.”

  Fuck. Dave slammed
his eyes shut. “Ally. There’s nothing there.”

  “I know.” She pulled away and sat down on the bench. “You’d never do something like that.”

  Although her response should have relieved the tension building in his neck, the way she said it had the opposite effect. Dave slid in beside her and grabbed her hand, unsure of what she’d say next.

  Ally stared out into the river in front of them. “Have you seen her since we’ve gotten back?”

  He scanned her face for signs of anger or jealousy but saw none. “We work at the same hospital. It’s hard not to run into each other.”

  “How does she feel about…everything?”

  He shifted in his seat. “I don’t really ask.”

  “But you know she still loves you.”

  The words stabbed at his conscience. “I can’t make someone feel or not feel something. Those are not conversations we have.”

  She pulled her hand out of his grasp. “But you do have conversations with her.”

  He shrugged. “Very little. What are you trying to say?”

  Ally’s chocolate brown eyes locked with his. “Do you ever wonder if you picked the wrong person or thought about what life would have been like if I hadn’t come back?”

  He shook his head. “Never.”

  She hugged her knees to her chest, rested the heels of her sneakers on the edge of the bench, and stared at the pond. “I do.”

  Dave opened his mouth to respond but then shut it.

  “All the time,” she whispered.

  Although none of what she said surprised him, hearing the words cut.

  “And after reading the text, I started thinking about all the challenges I brought back with me, and how your life would have been easier if you’d been with her instead.”

  He let out a breath and shook his head. This wasn’t the first time she’d talked about how hard she’d made his life, and it seemed like nothing he said or did could convince her otherwise.