6. Azadeh—Age 22

Chapter 6

Azadeh—Age 22

The Hospital

It wasn’t a slap to my face when Lev walked away at the hospital. It was a fucking bulldozer to my gut. I never understood why Lev wanted the three of us around when he never seemed to be present. It wasn’t only in times of sorrow; I understood not wanting to be around sadness. Some people couldn’t process in a way that made them feel helpful. But Lev wasn’t only distant in those moments. He was also absent in times of genuine joy. His mind roamed to a faraway place, and all we had was the shell of his physical form. Occasionally, I sensed he hated being in our presence, but the messed-up trauma bond he had with Zeke and Cyrus kept him by our sides.

“What do you need?” Zeke asked, shaking me from my thoughts of Lev.

I smiled at Zeke. His arms had offered comfort and strength for as long as I’d known him. He made things easier for me, and being around him made me feel cherished and safe. Zeke was a blessing in my life, a gift given to me for all the bad things I’d gone through. “You being here is enough.”

Zeke had always been my refuge, someone I could turn to, knowing he’d be on my side no matter what. I was confident I could do nothing to make this man turn away from me. Even as a boy, he was my constant, no matter that his loyalty and fiercely protective nature had lost him something of great value.

I smiled as I thought about how Zeke was the epitome of a noble warrior or king in those old Persian tales in the pages of the Shahnameh. Valiant, resilient, passionate, and brave. He was the perfect prince riding to my rescue, but as much as I wanted to stand behind him and let him protect me, my past wouldn’t allow it. Sometimes, I wished I could blindly lean on him because I knew this man would make me the happiest person on earth. Zeke would take care of me, and I’d never want for anything—traits that made me love him deeply and passionately. Zeke made my world lighter.

Trying to be strong for Dariyus and Mona was exhausting. Dar was so angry. He wanted to ask his friend Ezra for money, but I wouldn’t let him. Ezra was a good guy, but he was affiliated with some scary people. I didn’t want my mother’s heart to break right before she died.

And then there was Mona. I thought she was scared more than anything else. Eighteen and an orphan. We didn’t have any extended family here. No aunts or uncles. In Iran, losing a loved one brought family and the community together in a show of support.

“Some days, I feel like life has been one giant hurdle after another for my family. I don’t know how to stop. It’s like we’re cursed.”

Zeke placed a chaste kiss on my head and whispered, “There’s no such thing as curses. Life is circumstance and luck. Everything we go through is a crapshoot. Gambling is supposed to be bad for us, but our lives are a game of chance from the moment of conception.”

“I believe that. Life is a long game of craps. In the blink of an eye, I could’ve been one of the innocent girls in Evin Prison. It could’ve been worse in that situation. Dar and Mona would’ve been alone, with no one to look out for them.”

I looked at Zeke, admiring the structure of his handsome face, which was even more attractive with his black eye patch. His gaze was focused on Maman’s room. She looked like a peaceful angel, thanks to the drugs. My brother sat by her bed, elbows on his knees, while Mona was curled in a ball beside him.

I sighed wearily. “She was so angry when I chose to study martial arts in Japan instead of going to school and becoming a doctor. She told me I was ruining my life and spitting on all the sacrifices she’d made for me. She was right, you know. Not about the martial arts. But about me spitting on her sacrifices.”

Zeke turned me to face him, gripping my shoulders. “Az, that woman loved you. She left everything she knew, traveled to the other side of the world, sacrificed everything familiar, and worked herself to the bone so that her kids could live. What would make your mother proud is for you to keep doing exactly what you’ve been doing. She’s raised such a beautiful, strong, independent, and loving human, Az. I think the reason she said what she said wasn’t because she was disappointed in you. It was because she was scared.”

Zeke was a bridge. He never tried to keep me from soaring. Never tried to hold me down or in place. Since we were kids, Zeke had bent until he broke so I could walk an easier road without fear of falling.

I tilted my head and gazed up at Zeke. He looked like he had a halo under the fluorescent hospital lights, which was fitting because he’d been my guardian angel for years. “What would she be scared of here?”

Zeke smiled and sighed, the type of sigh a parent might give their child when they purposely misunderstood their point. Usually, that would’ve gotten Zeke a knee to his balls, but I was too miserable to be insulted. “She escaped Iran with her three kids so they would be safe, and you work in remote parts of the world rescuing girls from the same kind of men she ran from.”

Tears poured from my eyes as my brain soaked up every syllable like a sponge, and Zeke’s words sank in. I’d helped a lot of women over the last few years, but the one person I desperately wanted to rescue was the only person I was bound to let down.

My mother had saved my life, but I couldn’t save hers.

“Got you some hot chocolate,” Cyrus said, holding out a white and yellow Styrofoam cup with a plastic lid.

I’d been so lost in conversation with Zeke that I hadn’t noticed Cyrus had left, which seemed impossible because everyone was always aware of Cyrus.

“It doesn’t have whipped cream. What kind of beverage place doesn’t stock whipped cream?” he demanded, outraged.

“A hospital that doesn’t concern itself with fancy drinks and Instagram-worthy photo opportunities,” Lev’s deep baritone answered behind me, making me jolt and causing the hot liquid to bounce out of the cup onto my hand.

I opened my mouth to scold him about sneaking up on people when I saw two nurses and an orderly enter my mother’s room.

“Excuse me, what’s happening?” I asked, marching back to the room.

One of the nurses smiled. “Your mother is being moved to the executive floor.”

My heart accelerated. The last thing we needed was a bill for tens of thousands of dollars for my mother to sleep in a fancy hospital room. I knew the hospital wouldn’t care that it was their error; they’d push and pull until they could squeeze something out of my family. “There must be a mistake. We don’t have that kind of money.”

“It’s already been paid for in full, Miss Baran.”

“Who would possibly pay for this?” I demanded.

“Whoever it was is a very good friend, it seems.”

No one I knew had that kind of money. No one, except… I turned to the guys waiting in the hallway, and my gaze zeroed in on the moody man in a hoodie.

Levinston Cartwright.