Pregnant by the Sheikh(59)
“You think those were memories?”
“Not just any memories. I think these are finally your real memories.”
“But I remembered a very different version before.”
Antonio pursed his lips. “I did tell you I felt there was more to what you remembered. In hypnosis, subjects frequently take a kernel of a memory and dress it in confabulations that suit their emotional and psychological needs. You wanted someone to be responsible for your father’s death, for your years of enslavement, so you invented the attackers, then used circumstantial evidence to form a perfect conspiracy that validated your alleged memories. We can do more sessions to make sure, but I’m fairly confident this is the truth at last.”
Numair stared at Antonio, but saw only his realizations. He had needed an enemy to hold responsible, to vanquish, to pay for everything he’d lost and suffered.
But this was the reality at last. This was what had happened.
“I’m sorry, Phantom.” Antonio looked serious when he almost never did. “As unsatisfying and unfair as I know this feels to you, it seems your father’s death and your ordeal were only due to an accident.”
At Antonio’s unaccustomed sympathy, Numair roused himself from his musings. “No, no, it’s okay.”
Unconvinced by Numair’s preoccupied response, Antonio pressed, “I think you should be relieved it was. This brings you closure, and rests your father in peace.”
Numair nodded distractedly. Antonio was talking sense. But now that he’d given him a plausible explanation for the disturbing visions, the whole thing ceased to matter to him. All that mattered was that he found Jenan.
Antonio went on, “This even gives you the possibility of a family without the ugliness such a crime would have visited on all of you for generations to come.”
The word generations hit Numair like a hammer to the temple. For there would be a coming generation for him. It had been something he’d never truly visualized, even when there’d been every chance Jenan would get pregnant. And now she was.
But she no longer wanted to be. Not with his child.
“Phantom? Are you okay?”
At Antonio’s nudging, Numair realized the rumbling sound he heard had been issuing from himself. It was a moan of agony, of regret and dread. “No, I’m not. I injured Jenan irreparably.”
Antonio shrugged. “Prostrate yourself at her feet—which I’d love to see, by the way—and she’ll forgive you.”
“Even if she forgives me, she’ll never trust me again. Or love me.”
Before Antonio could respond, Numair’s phone rang. A feverish glance at the caller ID made him growl as if with a kick in the gut. Richard.
The moment the line clicked, Richard’s deep taunt poured into his brain. “After meeting your runaway princess, I’m considering doing her the favor of a lifetime and not telling you where she is.”
Apoplectic fury took him over. Rabid threats, torrents of them, burst out of him like rapid fire.
Richard only chuckled. “Not only won’t you flay me alive and all the other lovely sentiments you just expressed, you also now owe me another favor. No, scratch that. I now practically own you.”
“Hang up, Richard.” Numair’s growl was so harsh it scraped his throat raw. “I’ll find her on my own.”
“Will you survive until then? And if you don’t care about your suffering, would you leave her with disillusion preying on her a moment longer if you can help it?”
“Dammit, Cobra, where is she?” His roar made Antonio lurch and wince and Ameen almost lose control of the wheel.
“Don’t give yourself a stroke, Phantom. You need your nervous system intact for crawling at her feet.” Threats hurtled from Numair again before Richard interrupted. “I want a promise before I send you her location.”
“What the hell do you want?”