Love, Tussles, and Takedowns (Cactus Creek #3)(57)

Saaleh gestured quickly with his hands, his words coming out more urgently as he relayed the story for the translator.

“But Hafez wrapped his arms around me and the bomb. He would not let go until one of the older men came to tell his men to let Hafez make this sacrifice. Time was wasting.”

Saaleh’s voice grew weak with sorrow. “So these men strapped the bomb to Hafez’s chest instead, under his clothes. And then they took him to a nearby village. The men stayed back while they told Hafez the exact house to visit. He was to go to that house in the center of the village and explode the bomb.”

Hudson watched the boy tap his two hands together, unconsciously, numbly replicating the directions for triggering the wires of the bomb.

“The men hid and kept me with them. We watched Hafez walk to the house. Suddenly, many children ran out. Laughing and playing. Hafez turned around and tried to return to us. His head was shaking, no.” Saaleh’s eyes grew fiercely proud. “My brother would not kill these children. He was almost out of the village and attempting to pull off the bomb when the men called to him and showed their guns on my head.”

“Hafez did not move. He stood at the edge of the town with the bomb unsure what to do.”

Saaleh’s hand suddenly shot up to his chest. “The men struck me with their rifles. That is when I saw my brother start walking back to the village. I tried to call to him. My life was not worth this. He turned to my voice and watched the men beat me some more.”

Pain streaked across Saaleh’s face. “My brother was torn. He always wished to protect me. But there were many children.” Saaleh nodded, eyes cast off in the distance at some memory, some private conversation none of them could hear. “Hafez pulled his clothing up to reveal the bomb. And that is when your soldiers,” he glanced at Clint in his standard military attire, “showed themselves.”

“When the American soldiers ran out from their hiding places, my captors yelled to explode the bomb. One of them shot my leg.”

Hudson had noticed the boy limping; knowing his injuries had been sustained in such a way horrified him even more.

“They screamed and bashed their weapons on me until I bled. Then they shot their rifles at Hafez’s feet as well. To urge him back to the village.” Saaleh looked up at Hudson then. “That is when you made your shot.”

Saaleh shut his eyes. “My brother’s body exploded.” After a deep breath, he uttered bravely, “But not near enough to harm those children.”

Again nodding at Clint, Saaleh explained, “Some of your soldiers were in the explosion but others were not. My captors rushed forward to fight. And that is when I ran. My brother told me if ever I had a chance to escape I was to run as fast as I could and never look back. I did. I ran for hours until I found a town I could hide in. The people cared for my wounds and kept me safe.” This time he nodded to the translator and the Americans who had escorted him in to Hudson’s apartment. “It wasn’t until months later that I was entered into the orphan refugee program. I found out then that the house my brother had been ordered to go to was filled with the first group of children the U.S. were assisting. They were scheduled to leave the next day and my captors had aimed to send a message.”

Saaleh’s hand returned to Hudson’s shoulder firmly. His translator’s voice wavered with emotion as she relayed his forceful words. “Your bullet took my brother’s last breath, yes, but his life was to end the moment that bomb was placed on him. So you may believe you killed him, but I believe you saved him.” Saaleh’s voice grew reverent. “When those children’s lives were spared, I believe you allowed him the final pardon for his sins—sins our captors forced him to make over the many months.”

They all watched, speechless, as Saaleh dropped down to his knees and gripped Hudson’s hands. “You also saved me. When our parents were killed, my life became my brother’s responsibility. And you allowed him to succeed. Because of your actions, I am here now in America, safe from those groups. I may be just a child but I know my brother did not die at your hands. I know whose hands will carry my brother’s blood. It is not yours. For the rest of my life, I will remember you as the man who put that final look of peace of my brother’s face before the bomb those monsters created tore him to shreds.”

Saaleh patted the scars on Hudson’s wrists gently. “I will also remember you as the man who was injured by that very bomb while I ran to safety. You became injured so I could become free. Your apologies, Mr. Hudson, are not welcome with me. There is no forgiveness for me to give because you are the man who saved not just those children under your government’s protection that day, but two boys who you had no responsibilities for.” The boy gripped Hudson’s hand tighter. And when he spoke again, it wasn’t in his native tongue.

He enunciated the two words foreign to him slowly and with much conviction.

“Thank you.”





CHAPTER SIXTEEN


“MOM, DAD, I’M taking the week off.”

Lia grinned. They had her on speaker so she could hear the dead-silent shock over the phone line as clearly as if she was standing in the shop with them. She wasn’t sure which part they were more shocked over—her calling them mom and dad for the first time ever, minus the ‘foster,’ or her taking the week off.