Chapter 13

ZAINAB

On Saturday, my father invites Faisal and me to his London house for dinner.

I put on a figurehugging, kneelength burgundy dress and pin my hair up. I don’t bother with heels, choosing my ballet flats instead.

Griff drives us over.

“Have you been to my dad’s house here?”

Griff nods. “It’s the first place I came when we landed, actually. Your father is the one that arranged for my things to be brought over.”

My father’s house looks much the same as it did the last time I was here. Illuminated brilliantly outside, it is softly lit inside. Classical music plays down the corridor from the living room at the end.

“We’re in here, darling!”

I follow his voice into the kitchen, where my father is standing at the window with Faisal.

My brother has made the effort to put on a shirt with his jeans. The blasted chain is still around his neck, but there isn’t much I can do about that.

“Zainab, thank you for coming.”

My father crosses the space in a few strides. He takes my upper arms in his hands and kisses my cheeks.

“Thank you for the invitation, Father. It’s good to see you.”

He lets me go and I embrace my brother next.

“Zal.”

“Nab.” He grins back.

“Sofia has almost finished dinner. We shall eat shortly,” Father says. “Let’s get you something to drink.”

I follow him over to the drinks trolley. I watch him make me a cocktail and then thank him and take a sip.

Glancing over the top of my glass, I make eye contact with Griff. He’s standing against the wall, his eyes settled on me, his expression unreadable.

If I had to guess what he is thinking, I bet he’s hoping that I don’t drink too much tonight.

Unlikely. I’m with my dad.

“Let’s go to the dining room. Sofia will bring it through when it’s ready.”

Dad sits at the end of the table, Faisal and I on either side. Griff checks the room, nods when he is satisfied, and then joins the other bodyguards in the kitchen.

My father notices me watching them.

“Sofia has been instructed to plate up for the security team as well,” he tells me.

I smile at him, pleased that Griff is being catered for. The man has to eat, even on the job.

“Thanks, Dad.”

Later in the evening when Griff is fixing us all a drink, my father pulls me to the side. I already know what he is going to ask before he says anything.

“How are things going with Huxley? Are you comfortable having him as your bodyguard?”

I know he is only asking because he feels like he has to. He has seen Griff and me interact today; he knows that we’re getting along great.

“He’s really good, Dad. I feel safe with him.”

His smile lights up his face. “Fantastic, that’s what I want. I’m still looking for somewhere suitable. So many places in London are either too far away from you or absolute hovels. I won’t have my staff slumming it.”

I purse my lips to stop myself from smiling at my dad’s wording.

Part of me is disappointed at the thought of Griff moving out. If my dad finds him a place, he won’t have to live with me anymore. I can’t imagine living alone there again. The silence will be deafening.

“It’s been a month; something should come up soon.”

I blink in surprise. I didn’t realize that Griff had lived with me that long.

***

“Your father really loves you.”

Griffith’s observation on our way home takes me by surprise.

I glance at him and then carry on looking out of the window, guessing that he’ll open up more if I’m not looking straight at him.

“Yeah, he’s always been so good to us. I think losing Mum made him focus more on making our lives special.”

“You must have had a great childhood,” he mutters in a low voice, sounding wistful.

“It was,” I reply in a softer tone. “Were your foster families not…”

“Loving?” he suggests, sounding bitter.

I stay quiet and look down at my hands. I want to hear his story, but he needs to be comfortable sharing it. He might consider that unprofessional.

“Tell me about them?” I ask softly. “If you want to, that is.”

“I was with three foster families growing up. The first only wanted me for the paychecks. The second had too many kids to care for, and the third was downright negligent.”

I’m tempted to say I’m sorry, but I’ve heard that many people find that phrase pointless and irritating.

“Griff… God, that’s awful.”

“It is what it is,” he replies.

His voice is devoid of emotion, but he is gripping the wheel like his life depends on it.

I can’t help myself. I reach over and place my hand on his arm. His muscles are tense under my fingers.

“It doesn’t make it okay, Griff. You deserved better.” Then I correct myself. “You ~deserve~ better.”

“My grandparents were always a part of my life. They looked after me when they could. They took me every summer.”

His answers only incite more questions. I bite my lip, wondering how much to overstep. I pull my hand back.

“How come they…”

“Didn’t take me in?” he finishes. His jaw clenches, and the wheel audibly squeaks under his grip. “My grandmother had Parkinson’s. My grandfather was her full-time caretaker; they couldn’t take on a ten-year-old kid.”

“Wow, that is a lot. My God,” I murmur.

I feel like everything I am saying is insignificant, but I can’t think of anything better to say.

“Don’t pity me.”

It’s like he can read my mind. I look at him and shake my head.

“I don’t pity you, Griff. I’m… I’m angry for you. You deserved a better childhood than that. Look at who you have become. You should be so proud of yourself.”

He doesn’t say anything; his jaw tightens.

I let the silence between us stretch on, wanting it to be his choice whether to change the subject or continue.

“I joined the US Army as soon as I turned seventeen. It seemed like the best option to get me out of there. God knows my brain wasn’t gonna get me far. When I started earning properly, I sent the money back to my grandparents to help with Nan’s treatment.”

“Where are your grandparents now?” I ask gently.

He shakes his head. “Gone.”

“I’m sorry.”

“They had good lives. With the money I sent back, they managed to buy a house that was perfect for Nan in her last years. I made sure to go back regularly to see them. I did everything I could to pay them back for all the times they were there for me.”

My hand is on his arm again before I can stop it.

“I’m sure they knew how much you loved them, Griff.”

He nods again, staying silent this time. I pull my hand back and exhale deeply.

Only a minute later, we arrive back at my building. I know the conversation we’ve just had is over.

We get out of the car in silence. Neither of us says anything in the lift either.

I step out into the foyer and take off my shoes. I’m ready to say good night when Griff speaks first.

“Thanks, Zee,” he says. I give him a quizzical look, and he adds, “For listening.”

I smile and give him the same answer he always gives me. “Anytime.”