Chapter 25
"Ilgaz."
Nothing. No response. She frowns at his continued obliviousness to her plight. How could he just ignore her at a time like this?
"Ilgaz," she whispers louder, this time leaning right over his ear. And this time, he at least snorts as he swats at the side of his face. She's triumphant for a second, thinking she's finally gotten his attention. But then his breathing goes back to the slow, deep breaths of one who is sound asleep.
She frowns again and lets out a frustrated sigh. He'd be no help in an emergency. For all he knows, this is an emergency.
She calls him again, this time poking him until he finally starts to blink open his eyes.
"Ceylin?" he asks sleepily. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"
His gruff voice makes her want to snuggle in his arms and lay her head on his chest. So much so that she almost forgets why she woke him in the first place. But she quickly gets a reminder.
"I'm hungry," she tells him when her stomach rumbles, the not so gentle reminder as to why they're both awake now. "The baby is hungry."
"At …." He squints at the bedside clock to see the time. "2:45 in the morning?"
"The baby can't tell time," she explains, as if that should have been obvious.
"Ceylin," he sighs.
"Ilgaz, please," she begs. "I'm starving."
He just rubs at his eyes before tiredly dragging his body out of the bed. She follows him downstairs to the kitchen, stopping to take a quick peek in the nursery to check on Asen.
"Toast good?" he asks, digging into the bread box for the loaf he bought the day before. He gives her a look when he realizes it's already more than halfway gone.
"I didn't eat all of it. Çınar was here earlier and he made us a couple of his monster sandwiches. Your brother feeds me well and doesn't complain like you do," she teases him.
"That doesn't surprise me," Ilgaz grumbles. "I don't know what you said to him last week, but I think my little brother is halfway in love with you now."
She just smiles. A lot had been said. After the confrontation in the hospital, she knew she couldn't leave things the way they were. Çınar was hurting. The whole family was hurting. But that's just it … they are a family. She married Ilgaz, so that makes her a part of their family and vice versa. And to her, family means forgiveness. What Çınar had said to her made her realize she owed him an apology. But he had come to her first.
"Are you okay, Ceylin abla?" he had asked the next morning after they left his father at the hospital. Ilgaz had taken Asen to get them all some hot bread to go with breakfast and Ceylin was up in the apartment alone making tea. They were going to invite him and Defne up anyway. But it surprised her to see Çınar at the door before Ilgaz could get them. "I shouldn't have yelled at you the way I did. I'm sorry."
Her heart had melted at that point. And she realized just how young Çınar was. How hurt and angry he had been. And how much of herself she saw in him.
"Come in," she had said, inviting him into the apartment. "Come sit with me."
She had led him to the couch and sat next to him. Then she turned to him to find him looking awkwardly down at his shoes. She gently cupped his jaw and turned his face to hers.
"I accept your apology. And I want to apologize to you as well," she started. "Everything you said yesterday at the hospital was absolutely correct. Your life has value, Çınar. You are important. And you had every right to fight for your life. I'm just sorry that my father tried to take that from you. I'm sorry you were ever in a situation like that because of him. And I'm sorry I ever made you feel guilt that you were able to walk away from that with your life. All life is precious, Çınar. Especially yours. Don't ever apologize for fighting for yourself, okay?"
"I'm sorry he died. And that we didn't tell you. I wasn't trying to hurt him, though," Çınar swore. "I was just trying to get away from him."
His eyes start to water.
"I still have nightmares sometimes," he confessed. "I was in so much pain. And then the gun went off and that's all I remember. But I always dream that I died. Over and over. I keep dying."
She had hugged him then. She couldn't stop herself. Probably some maternal instincts kicking in or something. But right then, all she had wanted was to soothe his tears.
"You're a lot like me, you know?" she tells him. "We're both the middle child of the family. And we've had to be creative in order to be seen. We have a unique way of thinking, a unique way of living. Not a lot of people understand us. But I get you, Çınar. I see you. We're family now. I guess I had forgotten that for a while. But I won't forget again. For me, family means love and it means forgiveness. It means we always stick together. Deal?"
They had both needed that conversation that day. It was like another weight had been lifted from her. And now she has a little brother who adores her as much as she adores him. A little brother who fortunately still eats like a teenage boy, because his strange food choices more often than not have been matching her own cravings. Ilgaz always turns slightly green when she dips her dolma in ketchup and peanut butter. But Çınar will just shrug and eat it right along with her. She really loves that kid. She had missed having someone Inci's age to hang with. She can see why her sister had liked Çınar, and why they had been friends. Seems like their families were destined to be connected one way or another.
Her mouth waters when Ilgaz sets the toast in front of her. Her heart melts when she realizes he's also brought her the ketchup and peanut butter. She slathers the toppings on her meal and sighs in ecstasy upon the first bite. In no time, she's finished half of it.
"Come here, you," she demands, beckoning him closer. "A token of my appreciation."
She pulls his face to hers and gives him a kiss. A dab of ketchup ends up on the corner of his lip, so she leans in again to lick it off.
"Yumm," she moans. "You taste the best of all."
And suddenly it's him that she's craving. Her hormones certainly keep things interesting. She never knows from minute to minute what she's feeling. All she knows is that right now, she has a different kind of hunger.
"I think it's time to get you back to bed," Ilgaz says, clearly interpreting the look in her now glazed over eyes.
He swoops her into his arms and starts up the stairs.
"Don't forget the toast," she says, making him laugh. "What? We're about to work up an appetite."
He just shakes his head, but they do go back for the toast.
"Good morning, Sleepy Head."
Ilgaz leans over the bed to press a kiss to Ceylin's forehead. She reaches up and lazily caresses his cheek.
"Time for work already?" she asks with a yawn.
"For me. But you said you didn't have anything until this afternoon. So you can sleep a bit longer. How are you feeling this morning?"
Mornings tend to go either way for her, he has noticed. Hence the crackers they keep on the bedside table. But it's been a week or two since she's gotten sick. A surprise to him, considering the mixed up food she's been craving. She puts peanut butter and ketchup on everything. Everything. And not one or the other. She has to have both. And he doesn't always manage to avoid visibly cringing at her food choices. But as long as she and the baby are both happy and healthy, he can't complain.
"I feel good, actually," she says with a teasing smile. "Baby is happy. Because Daddy made Mommy very happy last night."
He doesn't even blush anymore at her forwardness. Because when she isn't sick, she's trying to get him back into bed. He's used to Pregnant Ceylin's antics at this point. And he wishes he could indulge her today. But he has an early meeting, unfortunately.
But one kiss won't hurt.
He tucks her hair behind her ears and leans down. Just as his lips brush hers, his phone rings. He smiles at her little groan of disappointment.
"It's Pars," he says when he looks at the caller ID. "I was supposed to be meeting with him this morning."
"Ooh, maybe he cancels," she suggests, her eyes brightening.
But unfortunately he wasn't canceling. He changed the location of the meeting. To their house. And the time to now.
"He said he has something important to tell both of us," Ilgaz explains, pulling her out of bed and pushing her towards the bathroom so that she could get ready. "He'll be here any minute. I'll go start some tea."
Ilgaz is just finishing the tea when Ceylin comes down the stairs. The doorbell rings right at that moment, so Ceylin goes to answer, letting Pars and Eren inside. He gets a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach when he notes the serious expression on their faces. Something tells him they don't have good news.
"Just tell us," Ilgaz demands once everyone is settled with their tea. "You clearly have bad news. What's going on?"
He looks back and forth between his two friends while he nervously takes Ceylin's hand. He can feel her tense up and realizes she's noticed the stress rolling off of their friends.
"They want us to offer Yekta a deal," Pars tells them. "They realize he's a small part of a much larger organization. A much more dangerous organization. He'll get off with time served in exchange for information."
"Time served?" Ceylin cuts in. "He's only served a week. What kind of punishment is that? He kidnapped my son and shot my husband. Are you even kidding me right now?"
"This isn't a joke, unfortunately," Eren says.
"They're working on the deal now." Pars continues. "They promised to tell us before they speak with Yekta and his attorney. But it's looking like they're not even considering the kidnapping and shooting charges. And he'll get minimal charges for the crimes we found evidence of during the office raid. They feel he has valuable information that could lead to more high profile arrests. As much as he postures, Yekta is just a small fish compared to who they're really trying to take down."
"Unacceptable," Ilgaz angrily jumps in. "You're the prosecutor in charge, Pars. Tell them Yekta can't get away with this. They have to find their own evidence. They can't set our guy free just to catch theirs. They can't endanger my family like this."
"They can and will. This comes from above me. From above the chief prosecutor, even. We've been trying to dissuade them, but all they see is the big win. They don't see Yekta as a threat. They said we should have gotten more solid evidence against him if we wanted real charges brought up against him."
"They're blaming this on us?" Ceylin asks incredulously. "It's not enough evidence that he nearly killed my husband? Did he have to succeed before anything will be done about him? Does one of us have to die?"
Ilgaz wraps his arm around his upset wife. It's for his benefit as much as it is for hers. Right now, she's the only thing keeping him stable.
"You know this isn't right, Pars. Do something. Please," Ilgaz begs.
Even though he knows there isn't anything to do. Not when the orders are coming from above. He's seen this happen before. Just never when his family is at stake.
"We'll let you know when this will happen. But my guess is that we'll all be seeing Yekta freely walking these streets by next week. And there won't be anything any of us can do about it."
Again, he knows Pars is right. There's nothing any of them can do. And for the first time in his career, he wonders what he's even there for. What good is justice if it allows this kind of injustice? How will he protect his family now?
A few days later, Metin comes home from the hospital. Those days have been filled with Ceylin trying her hardest to help Ilgaz keep a wrap on his temper. He's barely slept. Has barely eaten anything. He's spent nearly all his time looking for ways to avoid Yekta's imminent and inevitable release. She's beginning to worry about him.
"What has my grandson so distracted?" Merdan asks while everyone fusses around Metin. One of his legs had broken in two places. He's going to be in a heavy cast for a few weeks. They moved his things down to Makbule's apartment to make it easier for him. Ilgaz and Çınar are currently struggling to bring in a lift chair they rented from a medical supply store. It's not working out too successfully, hence Merdan's question about where Ilgaz's head is at. Because it is admittedly not on this current task.
"There was an unexpected surprise with Yekta's case," Ceylin tells him. "They're going to offer him a deal. He's going to go free. It's been hard for Ilgaz to accept."
It's been hard for them all. It's been terrifying thinking about how Yekta will be free to torment them once again. And that there's nothing they can do about it. She feels helpless. She can imagine how powerless a man like Ilgaz would feel in this situation.
"Reason?"
The ominous growl in Merdan's voice surprises her. He's normally a laid back, mild mannered man. Albeit a dangerous one. Ceylin isn't naive. She knows what her husband's grandfather does for a living. She knows why the man spent so many years in prison. She's just saying she's never seen that side of him. Until today.
"There's a criminal organization they're trying to take down. They want Yekta to give them information, and in exchange, they'll give him his freedom," she explains.
"Freedom to terrorize my family. I don't think so," Merdan grumbles.
"What was that?" she asks. She's not sure she heard him correctly. "Did you say ..."
"Not a thing, my dear," he says with a smile. A chilling smile. She suddenly can see why everyone is so afraid of him. The look in his eyes promises death.
"You will excuse me," he adds politely. "I just remembered there's something I need to do. Tell Makbule not to hold dinner for me. I'm not sure when I'll return."
She just nods. If she finds it strange that he suddenly has plans during his own son's welcome home from the hospital party, she's not going to be the one to point it out.
"Where's Dede going?" Ilgaz asks when he notices the older man slipping out the front door.
"I don't know," she shrugs. But she doesn't admit that she has her suspicions. And she doesn't admit to what they were talking about before Merdan suddenly had to leave. "He just said he had something to take care of."
The law may not be able to do anything about Yekta. But maybe Merdan Kaya can. He may be their last hope.
The end of the week arrives and Ilgaz has been at the office all night and day trying to figure out a way to stop this hideous deal from going down. He's written motions and arguments, all of which have been brushed aside. Time has run out. Yekta is giving his testimony now. If they are able to verify the information he's giving, he could be out of prison as early as next week. But he knows Yekta. The man always has an ace up his sleeve. The information will be legitimate. And barring any complications, he will be released. There's nothing Ilgaz can do to stop it. Justice has failed. Ilgaz has to accept that.
Pars storms out of the interview room, a folder clenched in his hand. He managed to get one last shot at arguing against Yekta's release. Looks like he failed too.
"No one in there is listening," Pars spits out. "All they see is the big score. Yekta is giving them just enough to buy his freedom. They don't want to hear how dangerous he is or why they shouldn't let him back out on the streets."
"There's nothing we can do. There's nothing anyone can do," Ilgaz sighs, resigned to his fate. "Not unless we use the same unscrupulous methods of the very people we are fighting against."
Ilgaz is ashamed to admit that he's briefly considered some of those methods. But would it be worth it to throw away all the years he spent building his reputation? Building his honor. His dependability. His honesty. Could he throw it all away just to get rid of Yekta? But maybe he's asking himself the wrong question. Maybe the better question is this: will his reputation and honor even matter if Yekta manages to take away his family?
"It's late," Pars says, shaking him out of his wayward thoughts. "Go home, Ilgaz. We've done all we can do. Maybe Yekta will do us all a favor and annoy the wrong inmate and get himself killed."
He knows Pars is joking. But some small part of him agrees that it really would solve all their problems. And this time, he doesn't even feel shame at the thought. And that scares him more than anything. What is Yekta turning him into?
When he gets home, he shuts it all out. Packs it all away. He won't bring Yekta into his peaceful sanctuary. Instead, he wraps his arms around both Ceylin and Asen and holds them tight.
"Are you okay?" Ceylin asks, concern in her voice.
"I am now," he says, holding them even tighter. Because he is. They make everything okay. Even if just for the moment. The Yekta problem will still be there tomorrow. But for right now, he'll take happiness where he can get it.
"I'm perfect," he whispers. "You two make everything perfect."
They drive all the darkness away. And right then, he has the answer to the question he asked himself earlier. These two, his family, they're everything. Nothing is more important than they are. Which is how he knows he'd never risk his integrity, especially not on someone like Yekta. But he will keep them safe.
"Everything is going to be fine," she promises him, as if reading his thoughts.
And he believes her. He tilts up her head so that he can drop a gentle kiss to her lips. He realizes that everything is already fine. Better than fine. And he'll fight with everything in him to keep it that way. One day, good will win. He knows that deep in his heart. Because being here like this with his family makes it easy to believe. If he doesn't want to lose them, he has no choice but to believe.
"Here you are. Back to your cell, Yekta Bey."
The guard shoves him inside, causing him to stumble over the too big shoes. It was a joke his cell mates played on him. They stole his shoes the first night and left them with this pair that were far too large. His lawyer sent him a replacement pair, but those too were stolen. Yekta didn't bother with asking for another replacement. He doesn't plan to be in here long anyway. His recent testimony just assured his release. And not a moment too soon.
"Play nice," the guard says, nodding his head across the room. "You've got a new roommate. You're not the new guy anymore. Maybe you can show him the ropes. Make a new friend"
The new guy is sitting alone. Glaring at him. And something inside of Yekta tells him that this new guy isn't looking to make friends. Yekta has great instincts and knows this guy is pure danger. And that that danger is aimed towards him. He spins around and tries to call the guard back, but it's too late. The door has slammed shut. He's on his own. He bangs on the door to try to get the guard's attention, but no one comes.
Not even when the lights suddenly go out.
Not even when he screams in pain as a knife is buried in his gut. Once. Twice. And then a third and final time. He falls to the ground slowly, hand grabbing the knife trying to pull it out. But he can't make more than a weak attempt. It's as if none of his limbs work anymore.
"Help," he whispers. "Somebody … help."
But no one comes.
