Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 36036 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 180(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36036 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 180(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
We wait as Xander rings the doorbell. The door opens quickly, revealing an attractive woman with long, dark hair. She smiles broadly and throws her arms around Xander’s neck.
Xander laughs as he embraces her. “Relax, will ya? You’re about to suffocate me.”
I hate the pang of envy that blooms in my chest as the woman pulls back and slaps his chest. “You’re lucky I don’t kill you for ignoring me for two weeks.”
I watch in fascination as Xander’s cheeks flush, and he nervously rubs the back of his neck. Are they together? “I’ve been preoccupied.”
The pretty woman turns to Hans and me, offering a warm smile. “Who are your friends?”
“Azadeh, this is Margarete and Johannes.”
Azadeh’s smile widens as she steps back and opens the door so we can enter.
“Who’s at the door?” a tall man asks.
I press my lips together to stifle my squeak. His appearance is frightening. He’s tall and broad, with tattoos and scars covering most of his visible flesh. He stops behind Azadeh, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her cheek.
“You remember Alexander, right? We used to work together.” The scary man narrows his eyes at Xander and nods in acknowledgment. “Margarete and Johannes will be staying with us for a while. This is my husband, Cyrus,” Azadeh introduces. She glances at Xander. “You’ll be staying too?”
Xander nods. “If it’s not too much bother?”
“Of course not,” Azadeh assures him. She waves a hand around her. “As you can see, we have more space than we’ll ever be able to use.”
I peer at the man lovingly holding Azadeh. He resembles a demon, scorched in the flames of Hell, but his eyes shine with devotion as he gazes at her.
Azadeh pulls away from Cyrus and grabs my hand. “You must be starving.”
As we walk down the large hall, warm breath teases my ear as Xander whispers, “Do not judge, or you too will be judged.”
I have no clue why he’s saying those words to me because I didn’t vocalize my reaction to Cyrus out loud.
Azadeh’s kitchen is massive. A large island dominates the center of the room, with stools positioned around it.
“Do you have many children?” I ask.
Azadeh opens the refrigerator door before turning to me. “Not yet, but we’re trying. You’d think one of my men could get the job done.”
My gaze moves to the man who enters the kitchen. He has an eye patch over one eye, the other a captivating blue. “Hey, now, you only said you were ready a week ago.”
Wrapping his arms around Azadeh, he twirls her in the air and kisses her passionately. My mouth gapes, and I blink as they embrace in front of Cyrus. He seems unbothered by the sight of his wife with another man as he sits at the island and casually drinks from his mug,
Xander chuckles as his gaze zooms in on me like a magnifying glass. “Do not judge, or you too will be judged.”
Azadeh smiles at Xander. “Amin.”
“Amen,” I correct.
I shiver as Xander places a hand on my shoulder. “Azadeh didn’t grow up Christian. She grew up Muslim. For her, it would be Amin.”
I look at her, my eyes wide. “Muslim?”
Azadeh nods. “I was raised Muslim.”
“Are you Christian now? You’ve been saved?”
Xander drops his hand. “She saved herself. No one needs to hop from one Abrahamic doctrine to another in the hopes it will be any different since they’re all copy and pastes of each other.”
“Xander,” Azadeh says, her voice vibrating with authority and something akin to a warning.
“She needs to know the truth. It’s all bullshit.”
“Xander, you and I know that belief is a spectrum. It’s possible to feel a deep love for God without belonging to a specific religion. The two are not mutually exclusive. One brings tranquility, while the other brings strife. Religion is a prison, while spirituality is a sanctuary.”
I allow Azadeh’s words to sink in, unsure if I place any validity in them. “If you don’t accept Jesus, you’ll burn.”
“Maggie.” Xander says my name as a warning.
“It’s alright,” Azadeh says as she untangles herself from the one-eyed man. She steps toward me and smiles. “I accept Jesus. I think he was a wonderful man. If we all lived like Jesus, the world would know peace and prosperity. No war, no abuse, no greed, and most importantly, no more hate. The problem is that those who vehemently claim to love Jesus have never accepted his message into their hearts. Now, enough with all this talk about God and religion. Let me feed you and set you up in your rooms for the night. I’m sure you’re exhausted.”
CHAPTER 8
Hans
We’ve been lying in the giant bed for what feels like hours, silently staring up at the ceiling, hoping for some sort of revelation. Now, we’re facing each other, huddled in the darkness where the reality of our secrets can be uttered without fear of retribution. The ease I usually feel with Margarete is strained, and I know it’s my fault.