Rafiq’s hands shook as he held his knee, fragments of bone lay around him along with copious amounts of blood. “I’ll kill you!” he screamed.
Adrenaline coursed through Caleb’s veins. “How do you know Vladek?!” Caleb yelled over Rafiq’s curses and wails.
“Fuck you! Give me a towel before I fucking bleed to death!”
Caleb reached for Rafiq’s towel on one of the lounge chairs and threw it in Rafiq’s direction. Rafiq shivered as he applied pressure to his destroyed knee. He was fighting shock.
Caleb felt sick to his stomach. When he was able to keep his nausea at bay and speak, his voice was broken. “Did you make me a whore, Rafiq? Did you take me from my mother?” It hurt to say the words. It hurt to look upon Rafiq and instantly know the answer.
It was in the way the anger disappeared on Rafiq’s face. There was a glimpse of shame, but only that – a glimpse. When it passed, Rafiq was once again filled with a self-righteous rage. “How dare you! How dare you ask me such a stupid question, Caleb! After all we’ve been through and all I’ve done for you. This,” he motioned to his bloody leg, “is how you repay me? You make me sick.” He spat on the ground.
Caleb broke.
He fell to his knees on the concrete and hung his head. His sobs shook his chest and robbed him of breath. His mind raced with images of his torment. He relived the rapes and beatings. He felt the loss of his friend upon learning he’d been burned alive. But the worst…were the memories of Rafiq and the life they had lived together – good and bad.
“It’s not too late, Khoya,” Rafiq said softly. His voice trembled. “Help me inside.”
Rafiq’s words brought the world back into focus for Caleb. He stared into his lap, saw the gun lying limply in his hand, and made a decision. He went into the guest house and found what he needed before coming back outside to Rafiq.
Rafiq wasn’t doing very well. He shook badly and the color was drained from his face. “What are you doing, Caleb?” he asked. For the first time, there was fear in his eyes.
Caleb ignored the question. He stretched the length of cord he’d brought out and gestured toward Rafiq’s hands. “Give them to me.”
Rafiq shook his head. “No. You’re not yourself, Caleb. Don’t do this!”
Caleb held the cord taut in his hands and reached around Rafiq’s head. He pulled back with both hands, dragging Rafiq into the house by his neck. A trail of blood followed them.
Rafiq didn’t thrash around the way Jair had. He was too well trained as a soldier to make such a mistake. He placed his hands around the cord, taking tension off of his throat.
Once inside, Rafiq reached back for Caleb’s arms, bracing the weight of his body and rolled toward Caleb. It was enough to throw Caleb off balance. Rafiq dragged himself on top of Caleb and punched him in the same spot Felipe had struck with the gun.
Caleb’s head snapped back and his vision blurred. He felt Rafiq’s hands wrap around his throat, his thumbs pressing along his windpipe. Caleb lifted his leg and kicked at Rafiq’s injured knee. It was enough to regain the advantage. As Rafiq instinctively recoiled and went for his knee, Caleb rolled on top of him. He kept punching Rafiq in the face until he went unconscious.
***
When Rafiq opened his eyes, Caleb could see he was instantly afraid. Caleb had tied him down on one of the lounge chairs that had been by the pool.
Caleb felt dead inside, but his thirst for vengeance had not abated. He had waited his entire life for this moment and it could not be denied.
He sat on the ground next to Rafiq. His knife sat delicately on his knee and still gory with Jair’s blood. “You’re going to die tonight, brother. I want you to know that,” Caleb whispered. “I can kill quickly if you tell me the truth,” he paused, “or I can use my knife and practice all the things you’ve taught me about torture.”
“Caleb…” Rafiq’s voice shook.
“That’s not my name, Rafiq. I don’t remember my name. It was taken from me,” Caleb said dully. “Do you know why?” Caleb looked up at Rafiq, his expression hard.
“You don’t want to do this, Caleb,” Rafiq said.
“No,” Caleb replied and shook his head, “I don’t want to do this.” He picked up the knife and poked at Rafiq’s knee.
“STOP!” Rafiq yelled. “Stop!”
Caleb returned the knife to his knee. “I never wanted to hurt you, Rafiq. Never! But you have to suffer for what you’ve done.”
Rafiq’s body shook violently. Sweat covered his body. “And what is it you think I’ve done?”
“I’ll ask the questions. I’ll start with the most important one: Did you give me to Narweh?”
Rafiq stared at him for a long time.
Caleb felt a tear race down his cheek and he wiped it away quickly with the back of his hand. He didn’t know he was crying. It had been so long since he’d cried and he suddenly seemed unable to stop. He cleared his throat, “Your silence betrays you, Rafiq. I had hoped you would deny it. I almost killed Felipe for even suggesting it.”