Page 122 of Deadly Betrayal
A tear rolled down Freba’s cheek as she heldher other hand out to Laila. Azita stepped back, letting Lailastand near her mother’s head. Laila latched on to Freba’s hand asthough she could yank her mother from death’s grip with the forceof her love alone.
Azita’s heart broke for the pair. Emotionswashed over her, submerging her in memories of her own mother’sdeath. She shook herself. Her mother had been gone a long time.What was important now was this parting.
“I love you, Maman.” Laila’s voice quaveredas she squeezed her mother’s hand. Freba smiled at her daughter.Her eyes were glassy with pain and fear. Freba tugged Laila’s hand,making her lean down until she rested her head on her mother’sbreast. “I love you too, my beautiful daughter. Be brave. Make meproud.”
As though sensing the finality in Freba’swords, Laila’s head jerked up. “No, Maman! No. You cannot leave me.Baba is dead. I will be alone,” she wailed. “I need you, Maman.Please don’t die. Don’t leave me.” Breaking down, she buried herface in Freba’s neck. Almost angrily, Laila tore off her mother’sheadscarf and nuzzled closer, whispering in her ear.
Azita couldn’t hear the words. She didn’tneed too. The impact of Laila’s heart-stopping, life-ending turmoilwas clear on Freba’s face. Her eyes glazed over as her final momentapproached. “Azita,” she mouthed.
Leaning down, Azita enveloped mother anddaughter in her arms. Freba’s death was senseless and devastating.In some ways, it was even worse than losing her own brother.
“Azitajan,” Freba whispered. “Promiseme…”
At this point, Azita would have promised theworld to this woman with whom she’d shared a husband. A woman whohad become a sister, a mother figure even. “Anything,” Azita said,her lips brushing Freba’s ear.
“T-take Laila with you.” Freba broke off andgasped. Below Azita’s hand, Freba’s abdomen spasmed.
“Take her where?”
“Away. Away from Agha Khalid. Away fromAfghanistan.” She paused, gritting her teeth against what had to beexcruciating pain. Azita stroked Freba’s head while waiting for herto pass. But a few moments later, Freba continued. “Give her a goodlife. The life she deserves.”
“I… I…” Azita’s stomach dropped. How couldshe promise Freba something impossible? Her gaze flicked to Khalid.He was Laila’s guardian, her de-facto father. Azita was nothing.Legally, she had no claim on the child.
She felt movement behind her, a strong, solidpresence she recognized instantly. Kaden.
Freba’s gaze turned up, her eyes almostrolling back. But she surprised Azita by smiling. “Let yourAmerican help you. He is a good… man. He will be a… good husband…good… father.” Her speech was slow, halting.
Kaden wrapped an arm around Azita’s waist,supporting her as she bent over Freba. His other hand replaced herson Freba’s wound. Filling her lungs with much-needed air, Azitatook Laila’s hand and one of Freba’s. The women formed a circle,one of love, of resignation, of acceptance. Azita glanced over hershoulder at Kaden. The tightening of his arm was a silent show ofsupport. He leaned in close, whispering incredible, amazing wordsto her. “We’ll take care of Laila. Tell her mother. We riskedeverything to rescue this girl. We’re not going to let anything badhappen to her now.”
Azita would never hold him to this vow spokenin haste and given under emotional duress, but the simple fact thathe had said the words increased her love for him. Her lips trembledand she could barely speak past the feelings squeezing her throatwhen she looked at mother and daughter. “I promise, Frebajan. I will do everything I can to protect Laila.”
“Take her as your own…” Freba wet her parchedlips. “Be her mother.”
“Maman!” Laila’s cry pierced Azita’s heart.Kaden pressed his chest against Azita’s back and she felt hishitching breaths, signs he was as moved as she.
Time was running out. Freba was fighting thepain, fighting the imperative to let go. Only one thing would giveher peace. “I will. You have my word. I will love her as my owndaughter.”
Tears blurred her vision as Freba smiled,finally at peace. Serene.
“Don’t leave me, Maman.”
“Never, my daughter… I will always be inyour… heart.” Freba stopped speaking, her mouth opening wide as hergaze went blank.
Lips parted, her back arched, she took onelast rattling breath. When she slumped down against the stretcher,an eerie quiet settled over them, broken only by the thunder of thehelicopter’s rotors. Gently, Azita touched her fingertips toFreba’s pulse at her neck, confirming what everyone already knew.Passing her fingers over the woman’s lids, she closed her eyes andslowly released her hand.
No matter how often Azita faced death, itnever got any easier. She supposed that meant Afghanistan, despiteits decades of war, had not broken her. And she would not let itbreak her new daughter either.
As she folded Laila, sobbing and shaking,into her embrace, another pair of arms joined hers and effortlesslylifted them both. Kaden carried them to the front of the helicopterwhere there were seats. Sliding into one, he enclosed both of themin his warmth and murmured gentle, soothing words.
Allah had blessed her when He’d brought thisvery special man into her life.
Kaden cradled his precious dual bundle whilehe tried to process everything that had just happened. A woman wasdead. A girl had lost her mother. And Azita had just gained adaughter.
His gaze slid to Khalid, sitting across fromhim. He seemed shaken, tired. It wasn’t every day your brother’swidow died, shot at the order of her soon-to-be son-in-law. Kaden’sblood heated. The fucker had caused all of this.
Tearing his eyes away from the man before heripped his stupid head off, Kaden turned in time to see Jake slipinto the cockpit. Kaden hadn’t even had a chance to properly thankhim for setting up the rescue. As he scanned the interior of thehelicopter, he realized they were in a Chinook HC2A. The Britishversion differed slightly from the American one. Delta Force unitsusually flew smaller attack helicopters, so where the hell had Jakegotten it?
Hassan plopped down in the seat besideKaden’s and leaned close, almost shouting to be heard over therotor noise. “How are they?”
