3. I HAVE A DEAL

HANA

    Why the hell does he look like he is on some kind of challenge? Why the hell is smirking? I don't know. I almost walked past him, almost did. My life would have been different if I had. 

     "I will offer you a deal." His words made me stop in the middle of taking a step. I turned around to look at him.

      His eyes travelled from my head to toe. Is he checking me out? Eww.

      I snapped my finger. "Eyes up here," I demanded when his gaze lingered on my blouse for more seconds than necessary.

      " I could use your help while I am in the city." He said.

      I folded my hands across my chest. "Oh, shut up." I snapped. "First you laid me off. Now you are offering me another job while staring at my cleavage like a perv? Disgusting." I yell.

      He held his hand up, taking a step forward. And I took a step back. "Wait, wait, wait, wait. I wasn't looking at your, you know..whatever you think I am looking at. I have seen better. I am looking at your locket." He says, touching the tiny silver maple leaf locket I always wear. 

      He traced his thumb along the leaf locket, staring at it as if it were a wonder. He smells like wood and rain. And somehow I am thinking about the forest again. 

      I can't understand how a person can seem calm and peaceful and create chaos in your life. Bash is like that. There is a pleasant aura about him but actions speak something else.

      "You are in my boundary," I said slowly, my voice suddenly sounded timid.

      He instantly released my locket and took a step back, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Sorry about that." He apologized like a gentleman. 

     I shook my head in disbelief and turned around.

     "I could save your sister." He spoke from behind. Once again, I stopped in my tracks. I felt like my heels were glued to the ground. I couldn't move. But I felt him right behind me, his breath on my shoulder, "From Cillian." He whispered.

      A shiver ran through my spine. Is that because of our proximity or because of the mention of the devil itself was beyond me.

      "You ran away, not giving a damn about the consequences. Did you forget? Your father has another daughter to offer."

      "Go away. Violet will never marry Cillian. She hates him as much as I hate him." 

       "Really?" He asked, taking his phone from his pocket, and dialled a number and put the call on speaker.

        "What the fuck do you want?" Yelled the guy on the other side. 

       He is panting as if he is running.

       "You cockblocked me. Do you know that?" He said again and instantly I knew that whoever this guy was, he was not running. He is doing something else at the start of the day.

         "Cillian. Good morning to you too." Bash said, looking at me.

         "What the hell do you want?" Cillian barked again. 

       I met Cillian when I was a teen at a ball I didn't remember. I was afraid of him then. But now, I feel only disgusted.

         "How is your fiance?" Bash asked him.

         "Who, Violet? I don't know man. That bitch is shopping somewhere else I guess." Came an answer from Cillain. "Why do you even care?" He asked Bash.

         "I just want to remind you. Don't lose a bride again." Bash said. 

         Before Cillian get a chance to cuss at him, Bash has ended the call.

         My entire body feels like it is on fire. No..... no.... no. Not Violet. No. How come I did not think of it before? If I ran away, my father would offer another daughter as a sacrifice. How did I not think of it before?

         'Because you thought he only hates and he loves your siblings.' My inner voice screamed.

         I controlled myself before breaking down near a stranger. "I need to talk with Violet," I said, grabbing my phone.

          Like the past three months, she hasn't lifted my call now. "I can't believe this," I murmured to myself. "Cillian, you disgusting bastard."

           I felt Bash's hand, holding my wrist. It feels warm and strong. I have been afraid of large hands all through my life, and I violently jerked when he did that. He was startled at my reaction. He took a step back without asking a question.

         "I could stop it." He said.

         I gave him a fake laugh. 

         "I can." He said with a determination in his eyes.

        I rested my hands on my hips, "Humor me."

        "It's a give and take. You help me, and I will help you. Cillian's grandmother is my grandmother too. I can offer them a better deal with Some Smith's daughter or Jacob's granddaughter. You have already run away. None of my family members liked that. Cillian and Violet's marriage needs a push to break which I will offer. Viola, you will have your job, and my job will be completed. Your sister will be free." 

       I gave him a thumbs down. "I am not doing anything without talking to my sister," I told him, and this time, I really walked away.

       But Bash silently followed me to the third floor, travelling in the same elevator I took. 

        The elevator stopped at the tenth floor. And to my misfortunes, Matteo, the intern I trained stepped in. His smile widened at the sight of me.

          Shit.

          I could see from the corner of my eye that Bash was observing everything.

        "I’m going to complain to Spotify about you not being in this week’s hottest singles." I heard Mateo say from behind.

       I felt my cheeks burn in embarrassment. If this was any normal day, I wouldn't have minded. But Bash, my supposed to be the fifth biggest enemy in my life is behind me. Why does Matteo have to use a pick-up line now?

       I dared to look at Bash, and I am sure he was muffling a laugh. 

       I looked at my phone expecting a text from Violet. But I didn't receive any. Matteo started to speak again but I raised my palm.

   "Mateo," I called him, almost painfully. "I have no time for this today."

    "Okay," He mumbled, dropping his dead, and walked out of the elevator.

     Why does he sound like a puppy? I could never understand these people. And I had stopped trying to a long time ago. 

      Behind me, Bash is chuckling. I hate the sound of it. 

      "He is cute." He said and walked out.

                                                                                *

      "Hey, sister. A little fact. No matter what you do, you still look like an ugly witch." Misha said, biting his potato chips.

      I put the dumbbell away and shrugged my shoulders. It's like hell in here. "Says the monkey on the couch." I countered. "Oh, no. Monkeys would commit suicide if they knew that they were being compared to you."

       His lips turned down. "The same monkey on the couch stole the pastry from the fridge and brought it for you." He said while taking a box from his behind. He smiled, showing his dimples. "Your bad. I am gonna enjoy it all by myself." He started to get up before I jumped onto him.

      In one attempt, I got the box from him. I looked at the decadent dessert through the transparent lid. My mouth watered at the sight. It has been too long. "You brought it for me?" I asked him with hope and doubt.

      If I think back, the number of times Misha did something for me comes down to zero. 

      "Fine, give it back." He said.

       But I held my hands back. "I am going to have a bite," I said and eagerly opened the lid.

       I heard him chuckle before he shouted. "Mom, look what Hana is eating."

      "Shut up." I barked at him.

       I am sure he is doing it for fun. But I didn't know that this whole thing was fun for him. Because mom is here in seconds.

       "I told her it's a bad idea, but she didn't listen." He complained to my mom.

       She seemed furious before she even saw the box. But when she saw it, a thrash landed on my cheeks and tears ran down. She took away the box without a word or warning.

       The playful expression on Misha's face changes into a dreadful one. "Don't be dramatic. I did it for fun." He said.

        "You are seventeen, Misha." That's what I remembered saying before I ran to my room.

       That night my younger sister, Violet knocked on my door with the same box Misha had earlier. Her big brown eyes are filled with concern.

       "Go away, Violet," I tell her and almost closed the door on her face. But slipped into my room pretty fast.

       "Misha is an idiot. He doesn't know what it's like to be hungry." She said, sitting at the edge of my bed. 

       "I am not hungry anymore."

        Her hands took mine.

       "I know Hana, we don't have much bonding. Either you were away for your studies or I was. We never really spent time together. But I am a girl. I know what it's like to be pressured to maintain a thin figure."

     That was when I sat beside her. "But you love working out," I murmured, feeling ashamed that my younger sister had now come to comfort me when my stupid self failed at that. Sometimes, if someone articulates the pain you are feeling, you feel much better.

       "I do. It is my escape just like books and dance are yours."

       My eyes shot up at her sentence. She smiles at me. "I know you dance. You got great moves and a great body." 

       "That's not true. I dance like a monkey and look like a donkey or at least that's what Mom and Misha think."

        "You know what, if we tell Misha that we found him in a garbage loud enough, he will believe it. He is that dumb. His only privilege in this house is that he got balls."

        I laughed at her words. I love Misha. But he is my sibling so some things are inevitable. I need to pay him back.

        I took a bite of the pastry she brought, and she did the same. We both moaned in unison as soon we tasted the first bite. It was heaven. We laughed at once and quickly muffled them when we heard a sound outside.

       Time passed as we remembered the things in our childhood until she fell silent. "Hana," She whispered almost painfully. 

        "I know what happened at your piano class."

         Everything became blank at the moment she mentioned the Piano class. 

        "I once heard Mom and Dad talking about it." She continued. "I didn't understand then. But when I grew up, I realised you are violated. I...."

        "Stop," I said, a single tear rolling down my cheek. "Just stop."

        I want to know what they talk about. But I don't wanna get my hopes up and disappointed at the end. I don't want to break for the second time in my life.

        "I am sorry," She said, wiping her tears.

        I never saw her like that. We never chatted for this long after we entered puberty. I guess there is a first time for anything.

       She reached into her pyjama pants pocket and took an envelope. 

       "It is a flight ticket to Istanbul. I got it from a friend's friend's friend's friend. I know you don't want this marriage. I know that you are fighting our parents every day about it. And I also know that Cillian is a cruel man. I don't want him to see you, let alone marry you." She turned her head to look at me with glossy eyes. 

       "You have always been kind to me. I remember the days when we were not in a mansion but a small apartment. I remembered how cheerful you were before everything happened. Some part of me believes that you have an escape plan of your own. But I wanted to help. Go, live your dream. I will be in touch. I am sure Father will not search for you. He'll be really really angry. He may become destructive. But he'll probably disown you." She sighed. "I am starting to reconsider this."

    "He never saw me as his own in the first place to disown me. But now, I feel sick. You are making it difficult for me to leave."

     "No, Hana. Please. Don't stop for our sake. You already saw what an asshole Misha is. He'll never change. I'll be really unhappy if you don't leave. What kind of lesson are teaching to your little sister by getting married forcefully?" She asked me with a scowl on her face.

      I laughed at her comment. "Last time I checked, you are an inch taller than me. Not sure how it is called as little."

       She hit me with a pillow. "Focus." She said. 

       As we planned my escape, I felt sick for leaving her behind. Violet and I were never like this. There are a few exchanges. Few talks. But no pillow fights or no skipping gym behind my parents' back to eat pastry. It hurts me to think that the day we became friends is the last day we'll spend together. 

      I swear to myself that I'll honour female friendships from now on in my life. 

     "Why are you doing this?" I asked her while she was contemplating whether I should carry my clothes or not.

       She looked at me and spoke, "I care for you. I will not let another man touch you or rule your life without your consent. You've had enough."