Page 100 of Due Dilligence (Takeover)
Chapter Twenty-one
Monday morning, Fazil took a cab from Todd’s apartment to Singularity while Todd drove in. Overkill, yes. He could always say Todd offered to give him a lift, but this seemed safer.
Separate business from pleasure.
It was strange walking into the building without Eli, and his heart skipped a beat in the elevator. While he’d been alone on Friday, Eli had been in Seattle. Now Fazil was truly on his own at a company that proved less than friendly at times.
He spied Erin at the coffeepot, and she gave him a smile and a wave. Good portent, that. Hopefully this week would go well, they’d wrap everything up, and he’d bedonewith this job. He didn’t relish leaving Todd—but he missed his own things. His space. Living out of a suitcase made his teeth hurt because he had a limited amount ofeverythingand all his favorite items were at home.
He walked down the hall to the conference room—he should ask for an empty cube now that Eli wasn’t here—opened the door, and strode in.
A smell hit as the door banged closed—not overwhelming butwrong.Smoky.
Every hair on Fazil’s arms stood up and his flesh pricked from his legs to his skull. Pages of something were scattered on the conference room table, the papers charred and burned at the edges. Some had holes in the middle. Even though he couldn’t read the language, he recognized the text, the patterns. Arabic wasdistinctive.
Oh my God.Icy tendrils spread out across his skull and edged forward. He needed to be sure he was seeing what was before his eyes, what sank into his flesh and heart and clenched his gut into a stone.
Hot fear melted his spine, and the sharpness of anger reforged it.
He spied the Basmala—that much Arabic he knew.In the Name of God, the Merciful, the Compassionate.Blackened paper had obliterated some letters.
He closed his eyes, swallowed bile and fire, and backed into the door. The strap of his laptop case slipped from his shoulder, and the bag thudded hard on the carpeted floor before falling to its side.
They’d burned a Quran. Blood pounded in his ears, a Klaxon ofno, no, norepeating itself in his head. He wasn’t religious. Barely believed in God. But this...this... wasevil.
Turning, he wrenched open the door and gasped in the clean, cool air of the hall.
That’s when he heard the laugh.
Nathan. The little fuck stood down the hall, teeth full of the most malicious smile Fazil had ever seen. The buzzing in Fazil’s head stole his thought, and the world tunneled down to Nathan’s grin, his laugh, and the heat and fire burning up through Fazil’s bones.
He lunged forward, wrapped a hand around Nathan’s throat, and threw him up against the wall. “You think that’s funny?”
Nathan’s smile was gone, replaced with a blank stare of shock that slipped into a look of fear.
Nathan clawed at Fazil’s arm. “Get off. Get off!”
“You—why? Why?” He shook Nathan, slamming him against the wall. “How could you?” His broken voice echoed in the hall, blending with the pounding in his ears.
Then there were hands on his shoulders, pulling him away. “Z! What are you doing?” Todd’s voice shattered the haze.
“He fucking tried to kill me!” Nathan shouted, red-faced. He rubbed his throat. “Fucking crazy asshole!”
White-hot rage ripped through Fazil, and he threw himself at Nathan again—but Todd held him fast. “Z!Stop!”
“I’man asshole?” He struggled against Todd, digging fingers into flesh. “I’m not the one who burned a Quran! I haven’t doneanythingto you.”
Todd cursed but didn’t let go. His voice was soft now, close, and warm in his ear. “Z, you need to calm down. He wants you angry.”
Why shouldn’t he be angry? Why didhehave to be the one to take the high road? Not react? Benice? But the rage and heat dripped away and slid from him like the strength in his legs. What remained was cold, dark, and empty.
See?it whispered.You’ll never be normal. American. Real. “I was born here,” he said.
“I know.” Todd loosened his grip. “It’s going to be okay.”
But it wasn’t. Fazil stared at his own hands, then at Nathan. “Oh God.” He shook his head... and didn’t stop shaking. His hands, his body. Those pages, that rage and fear. His gut ate him from the inside out.
“What the hell is going on here?” A very loud, angry Sandra marched down the hall, her heels clacking against the tile floor.
