Page 77 of Savage Protector

“Where’s her mum? Or her brother? Or her little brother or sister?” I recall that Shahida was pregnant when she left Glasgow

“Here.”

I whirl at the unexpected voice behind me and leap to my feet. “Who the fuck?—?

“Zayn? Is it you?” He takes a half-step forward.

“Bilal?” I would hardly recognise the scrawny kid from ten years ago, though to be fair, he hasn’t filled out that much since.

The kid darts out from her refuge in—or was that on—the sofa and flings her arms around her brother’s legs. He bends to hug her. “It’s okay, Sah, they’re friends.” He peers at me. “I think…” His brow furrows. “How? I mean, I thought you were dead.”

“Not yet,” I reply. “I work for Ethan Savage now.”

Tony enters, having completed his search of the house. “Nice place you’ve got here,” he observes. “Bilal Malik, I assume?”

Bilal glares at him. “I remember you.”

Tony was not exactly convivial the last time they met.

“I daresay.” Tony offers him a smile. “Ethan got your message, sent us to renew our acquaintance.” He saunters around the vile room, taking stock of the less-than-salubrious surroundings. “So, what’s this about, then? Where’s Shahida?”

“That’s just it,” the lad replies. “I don’t know. I’ve been trying to find her…”

“Okay?”

“She’s been gone nearly two weeks.”

“Where did she go?”

“Work, she said. But she never came back.”

“And, where’s work?”

He shrugs. “Not sure. Here and there.”

I can tell Tony’s patience is waning. “What sort of an answer is that? Look, do you need help or not?”

Sarah whimpers and cowers behind her brother’s legs.

“Stop shouting,” Bilal snaps. “You’re scaring her.”

Tony drags in a long, calming breath. “I wasn’t shouting…”

“Maybe a bit, bro,” Beck counters. He turns to Bilal. “What sort of work does your mom do? A store? Or maybe an office?”

Thankfully, he makes no mention of budding actresses. I guess we’ll be coming to that.

His Boston drawl seems to have a calming effect on both the young Alahis.

Bilal produces a pack of tuna sandwiches from his backpack and hands it to his little sister. “I brought you something, like I said.”

She snatches at the food and rips the package open.

“When did she last eat?” I wonder aloud. “You, too, for that matter?”

“I do my best,” he answers defensively. “With no cash coming in… I nicked that from Tesco.”

“What about the baby, I ask. “Your mother was pregnant…?”

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