Chapter Eight

“You know, there are markets in Manhattan. We didn’t have to come all the way to Brooklyn to shop.”

“What are you complaining about?” Paran stopped the cart. “It’s not like you had to face any traffic. A little blink of the eye and we were here.”

“Maybe I didn’t have a problem with traffic, but I have a problem with this.” She picked up a package of bagels and shook them. “Do you know how many calories are in a bagel?”

“They’re a low fat food,” Matuse said, taking the package from her and putting it back in the cart. “I checked the label.”

“They’re not low fat when you add this.” Aliya picked up the package of cream cheese. “There’s no way I’m eating this stuff. You’re wasting your money.”

“Oh you’ll eat it. And you’ll eat some of this, too.” Matuse picked up the carton of ice cream. “It has chocolate chunks in it, and little marshmallows.”

“And about five hundred calories in a bite. Forget it.” She closed her eyes as if gathering strength then opened them and glared at them both. “Listen, just buy what you want, and then we’ll go to the produce stand by my house and buy some fruit for me.”

Matuse crossed his arms over his massive chest and stared at her. “Fruit is important, yes, but you’ll eat other things, too. You’re far too thin.”

“I’ve already gained weight in the few days since you’ve taken me hostage. I told you—”

“The discussion is closed.” Matuse turned to walk away, but stopped and swiveled around, putting out his hand to catch the bottle of chocolate syrup that Aliya had tossed at his head. “And you’ll pay for that.”

“Matuse, I—”

“Don’t even try it, Aliya. Paran is going to be gone for two weeks, and I’m going to be busy at the club while you are working on your project. You’ll need to have food in the house.”

“Since you won’t let me leave my own house unless you’re with me? And I love how you call it a project. Why don’t you just call it what it really is? You’re holding me prisoner while making me do what you want.”

“I didn’t hear you complaining last night.”

Aliya glared at him, knowing her face was bright red. She turned to Paran, who studied his nails, then gave her a lascivious look and wiggled his tongue at her.

She turned her attention back to Matuse. “You’re a bastard.”

“Yes, I am. But I got over the pain of it about four hundred years ago. It doesn’t bother me anymore.”

“Yeah? Well, what if I told you your dick was hardly noticeable last night, hum? Maybe you should consider some piercings, like your friend.”

When Matuse’s smile didn’t falter, she narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m serious. It wasn’t you that caused my orgasm, it was the balls. You should make sure all your lovers have them. I mean—”

“Geeze, Aliya,” a female voice chimed in. “Now you’re making scenes in grocery stores?”

“Jacquee.” Aliya stared at the woman as if she had two heads. “What are you doing here?”

“I work here. One of the stock boys came to tell me about a woman screaming at two men. I never thought it would be you.”

Aliya’s stomach churned. They’d known all along that this was more than a shopping trip. They’d set her up. This one had come with no warning. At least with Rebecca she’d been prepared. How was she supposed to apologize to someone in the middle of a grocery store?

“I’m very sorry,” Matuse said. “We had a bit of a scuffle. Forgive us.”

Jacquee’s frown turned into a smile. “I’ll forgive you, yes. But I think I need to take Aliya to the office, to speak to her there. And then, I’m going to ban her from my store.”

“Your store?”

“That’s right. I’m the manager here. Let’s go.” She motioned for Aliya to move up the aisle before her. Aliya turned to Matuse, who grinned like the proverbial Cheshire cat.

“We’ll finish up and meet you outside,” Paran offered, his grin as large as Matuse’s.

She wanted to tell him to go to hell, but she was afraid if she did, Jacquee would call the cops and have her arrested for creating a disturbance in public. She started down the aisle, then turned and stuck her tongue out at Matuse, who laughed and waved.

It didn’t take long for them to wind their way through the store. At the front, Jacquee unlocked an office and ushered Aliya inside. She shut the door and before Aliya could say anything, she wheeled on her.

“What are you doing here? You don’t live around here.”

“No, I don’t. We needed some things, and this is where my friends wanted to stop. Listen, Jacquee, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t bother. Just be glad I don’t have you ticketed for cussing in my store. Now get out.”

“No, please, listen to me. I’m really sorry. About today, and about what I did to you in school. You have to believe me.”

“Why? Are you sick? Are you dying? Or is this some sort of Twelve Step program for bitches? What step is this, huh? Two? Three? How long will it take you to apologize to everyone? Six years?”

Tears welled in Aliya’s eyes. She brushed away the few that fell, then whispered, “I’m really sorry,” before starting for the door.

“Wait a minute.” Jacquee stepped in front of her. “Now I’m sorry. I may hate you, but that was uncalled for. Seriously, though, why are you here? I don’t think it’s by accident. I know you live in Manhattan. I can’t believe you’d come all the way out here to buy food. Before I accept, or reject, your apology, I want to know why you’re giving it. It’s been twelve years since we were in high school. Why now?”

“I just… Matuse, he… I…” Aliya took several deep breaths to try and control her tears. “He’s forced me to take a look at myself. This was his idea, I’ll admit it. But I hope it does some good.”

“Your words hurt me, you know. I cried a lot. It’s hard enough not being the beautiful girl on campus. Then, you get attacked by the beautiful girl and have people laugh at you because of it. It sucked.”

Aliya’s tears spilled over, running down her cheeks. She didn’t know what to say, so she just shook her head.

“For the longest time I thought you were right, that I was ugly. I fought hard to overcome it, no thanks to you.”

Aliya sniffled and nodded.

Jacquee stepped to her desk and took a tissue from a box, handing it to Aliya without offering words of comfort. “So, tell me the truth. Who are those two men and why are you in here?”

Aliya knew she couldn’t tell her the truth. Jacquee wouldn’t believe her when she said the two men were Djinn, with demon blood, who were forcing her into a magical “This is Your Life” reality show she wanted no part of.

“We just happened in here. Really.” She took a deep breath. “Those two are…” My jailers?

Careful, she-devil, Matuse warned softly.

“Just friends.”

“They’re pretty gorgeous. Do you rent them out?” Jacquee laughed at Aliya’s shocked look. “Sorry. Just a joke. But I doubt my husband would laugh at that one, either.”

“You’re married?”

“Yup. With three kids.”

“Are you happy?”

“Most of the time. Well, ninety percent of the time. Joey’s a wonderful man, and he loves me very much. I feel the same way about him.”

“I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks.” Jacquee studied her. “And you?”

“No, no husband. No kids.” The words sounded sad, and Aliya brushed away the self-pity that threatened to take over. She couldn’t even tell Jacquee she had a good job, because she didn’t. All she had were two magical men who were making her life hell.

She expected a retort from Matuse, and when none came, she sighed. “I hope you believe me when I say I’m sorry.”

“It’s a little late, but I accept your apology. Although I’m not exactly sure why. I guess seeing you cry was so weird I can’t stay mad. Just don’t go cussing in my store anymore.”

An awkward silence lingered for a long minute, and then Aliya stepped toward the door. “I’m going to go wait outside for my friends.”

“Sounds good.”

Once outside, Aliya found a bench. She sat and tried, but failed, to stop her tears. When she felt Matuse’s hand grasp hers, she took several deep breaths. “I didn’t know what to say. She asked why and I didn’t know what to say.”

“You could have told her the truth, as painful as it might be.”

“Shut up.”

“You could have told her about your mother. About having to step on the scale everyday. About how your mother’s own insecurities spilled over onto you.”

Aliya jerked her hand away from his. “How dare you! It wasn’t that way.”

“It took some deep probing to find it. But it’s there, little one. You can’t deny it forever. And you can’t leave it behind and grow until you deal with it.”

She glared at him and Paran angrily, then gasped as a shadowy image of herself as a seven-year-old child appeared. Her mother stood before her, her hands on her hips.

Are you eating again? Give me that! Do you know what it’s like having a pig for a daughter?

Mother, I—

Be quiet. We can deal with your face when you get older. A nose job, and do something with that sad chin you got from your father. But we can’t fix your weight. Stay out of the food, Aliya, do you understand me?

But—

You’ll eat nothing but what I give you. And if I find out you’ve been eating between meals, I’ll punish you. I’ll beat your behind until you can’t sit down.

Aliya jumped to her feet and the figures disappeared. “Screw you! Screw you both!” She ran for the edge of the building.

She heard Paran say, “Let her go. Give her some time alone.”

She rounded the corner and leaned against the wall, her sobbing hiccups filling the air. Matuse’s gentle hand caressed her shoulder, then his voice caressed her mind.

I left money in your pocket for a taxi, little one. If you need me, all you have to do is think my name. And then he was gone.

Aliya put her head in her hands and cried, wishing she were anywhere but in public as she wallowed in self-pity. She refused, though, to call for Matuse. She didn’t want to face him right now. She didn’t want to be around people, either, where she would be forced to talk and act as if nothing were wrong. There was only one place she knew she could go and be amongst people, yet no one would bother her.

She wiped her tears and headed for the street to hail a taxi, grateful for Matuse’s foresight in leaving money in her pocket.