Chapter Sixteen


For the first time in months, Imam let relief wash over him. He was on Helion Prime once more. He took Jack to his recently purchased home in the center of busy New Mecca. There he sent word to his new bride of his safety, promising to explain everything when she arrived. He had given his word that he would send for her once he had properly prepared their home, making it worthy of her. Now he asked her to wait just a few months more. He had loose ends that had to be tied before they could be reunited. He made no mention of his wife to the young girl.

While Imam was in his study sending his message, Jack explored the house. Nothing of interest was found on the first floor, so she eagerly made her way to the second. She ran her hand lightly over the banister as she ascended, noticing how clean it was. The place had been well taken care of in its owner's absence.

Unconsciously, her free hand wandered to the back of her pants, behind her right hip, where she had secured Riddick's shiv. She ran her thumb firmly over the hilt's butt as if it were a worry stone.

She first slipped out to the balcony, where she surveyed the city. She leaned over the edge, bracing herself against the railing, locking her elbows. She sighed, her feelings torn. It was a good home, no question. Imam was a good man, no question. But this could mean the end of her adventures. Maybe that wasn't so bad. She'd had a troubled and unstable child hood thus far, maybe it was time for a little security and trust to weasel its way in.

Though she felt a little confused, she was certain of one thing: from now on she was going to live with Imam.

She was just a child. Some times children don't understand.

She heard something behind her. A stiff creek. A door? The house was open air, the wind could have brushed by and caused a hinge or two to slip. She shook her head. She'd been through a lot, she was overly sensitive.

Pushing away from the railing, she strolled back in to the hall. She put her hand on her head, and laughed quietly to herself. For a moment she had expected to meet soft hair. Instead she ran her fingers over course stubble. She was so jumbled up inside she was getting her 'then' and 'nows' mixed up. She raised the other arm and ran both palms over her scalp, savoring the rough feel of her boyish style. It represented so much to her. It represented who she had become. It was Jack.

She pushed open a door and discovered a small room with shelves piled with trinkets and candles. The shudders were closed, and the hour was late, so the room was more than dim. Being the snoop she was she reached for a small box an a lower shelf and opened it. Its contents smelled spicy and she sniffed it with a slight frown.

She heard the creek again and ignored it. Just the wind.

Placing the box where she found it, she turned to her right to investigate that shelf. She shrugged slightly when she found nothing to play with. She decided to ask Imam what it was in the box that smelled so strong. She reached for it, and discovered it was gone.

A chill invaded her brain. She spun around. The door was closed. She hadn't shut it.

She felt it happening, but couldn't stop it. It was as if her mind had been severed from her body. She was willing it to move, to scream, but it did nothing. A man pressed himself into her back, and a massive hand slowly encompassed her mouth. She was paralyzed. The attacker made no sound.

Smoothly, he reached between them and found the shiv's grip. Carefully, he retrieved it, moving with pain staking preciseness. Once it was free of her flesh her senses magically returned to her. Her hands flew to his wrist, clawing savagely. She tried kicking behind her, but never made contact. Swiftly, he twisted his paw out of her clutches, caught both her wrists, and spun her around in front of him.

She found herself staring into the eyes of an animal. She stopped struggling. His lips were pursed thin, and his expression was searching. He raised the knife in front of her, displaying it fully. "This is mine," he said roughly.

"Then take it," she spat harshly, throwing him off.

"Took you long enough to get here," he said casually, placing the spice box on its shelf.

"I'm going to tell Imam you're here," she said, her voice scratchy.

He looked sideways at her, amused, "Threat?"

"Better believe it." She inched towards the door.

"Are you mad at me?" he growled mischievously, with out a hint of regret.

She put her back to him and grabbed the door knob. She paused for a beat, then jerked it open. She flew down the hall, the stairs, and into the study. She wasn't running away from Riddick, she was running to beat him. She was going to announce his arrival first. Imam put his arms around her when she stumbled into him, panting. "He's back," she told him.

"In the house?" He furrowed his brow. The child was seeing shadows.

"Upstairs."

"Downstairs," came Riddick's voice as he unconcernedly appeared and entered the room. His gaze was fixed on the girl, "You didn't answer me."

Imam moved between them, being as protective as he could. "I... I did not expect to see you again," he said honestly.

"I had to come back," he tossed the knife from hand to hand skillfully. He stopped, dangling it blade down in front of his face, "For this."

Grand excuse, Jack thought, but kept her mouth shut. She knew it was only wishful thinking, but she hoped he had come back for more than just a blade. He seemed to dispose of those quick enough any way.

"Now you have it. What will you do?" Imam asked.

His eyes never trailed from Jack's, "Maybe see some sights." She bent her head and smiled behind her hand. As if to wipe her disguised grin away, he added, "But I can't stay long." She straightened up.

Imam was nervous, as he usually was around Riddick, but he did feel he owed him something. "Let me prepare a room for you."

Riddick put his arm up and leaned into the door jamb, "Naw. I can fend for myself."

"Please," Imam insisted. "Jack," he peered at her, "Upstairs, at the end of the hall to the right there are some bed things."

"So?"

Imam rolled his eyes at her audacity, "Will you please retrieve them for Mr. Riddick?"

"I said I'm fine," Riddick rumbled, rolling out of the door way.

Imam and Jack followed him out. He was all ready halfway up the stairs. "You go a shower?"

Imam pointed, swallowing harshly.

Riddick swaggered into the bathroom and pulled off his shirt. He slapped his hard stomach lightly and scratched, he was hungry. He'd rifle through the kitchen once he was clean.

He cocked his head to the side, listening. "You didn't answer my question," he said, turning to find Jack in the door way, mimicking the manner with which he had stood in the study entry.

She frowned, "I don't have to."

He turned on the shower. The room began to steam up. He sat on the side of the tub, his knees akimbo, waiting for her to leave.

She had to ask him something fist. She needed to know, "How long?"

"Not long."

"You gonna be here tomorrow?"

He stood up, unbuckled his belt and pulled it free from his pant loops. He took a quiet step towards her, and rested his fingers on the open door's handle. He began closing it, and she was forced to move out. Right before he snapped it shut he answered, "Yeah, I'll be here."