After a while, his shoulders relaxed. I continued brushing his thick, tawny strands, root to tip, gently untangling his hair in soothing, downward strokes. His head tilted back, and I smiled because his eyes were shut. Every time the teeth raked over a certain spot in the back of his head, he purred and leaned into it.
“That feels so good.”
The room turned mellow as the last rays of the sun filtered through the curtains. Warm light hit the side of Jack’s face, softening the harsh planes and angles, picking up pale highlights in his beard. He gave himself up to me, up to the tenderness of the act, the soft intimacy of it.
When I was done, he drew the sheets over us and clasped my body tightly to his. We fell asleep, naked and tangled, with no need for words or kisses, too exhausted to think of the goodbye looming over our heads.
ISTIRRED AFTERdawn, when the early morning buses turned into a parade of screeching halts outside the hotel. Jack was lying on his side, one hand under his pillow, watching me through lazy, hooded eyes.
“Morning.” I smiled. His hair looked different, probably because he’d fallen asleep with it all combed out and a little wet. It had flopped over to one side, making him look like a model for a shampoo ad.Thick, lustrous, all-day volume. My smile grew wider. “You’ve been watching me sleep?”
“I’ve been stargazing.” He traced the curve of my nose with his finger.
It was rather beautiful, the way he felt like all the places I wanted to go. His arms fit perfectly around me, as though they’d been molded by a sculptor, just for me.
“What is it?” he asked, hooking his leg around mine, as I contemplated him.
“When I look at your face . . . this face . . .” I stroked my thumb over the light reflecting off his cheekbone. “I feel like this is exactly where I’m supposed to be.”
We started slow—a little drunk, a little dizzy—taking sips of honeyed bliss from dawn-colored lips. The world rolled below us—bicycle bells and newspaper boys, unaware that we were slowly setting the room on fire.
Jack stole the breath from my lungs. He dragged his lips across my hips, tasted my curves, taught me the pitch of pleasure until I was room-spinningly intoxicated with him. And in the heat of electric sighs, when our bodies turned molten and our bones dissolved, it felt like we were made from the same cluster of colliding stars. We clung to each other and sank into the sweet slumber of lovers, drifting in and out of dreams.
When Bahati called to see if we were ready to leave, we got distracted again, until he started banging on our door. The maid scurried in when we finally opened the door. It was way past checkout time.
“Coke for you. Coffee for you.” Bahati straightened and handed us the drinks. “I figured you didn’t bother with breakfast this morning. Not much sleep either,huh?” He scanned our faces and grinned. “It’s a long way back, but I’d prefer to drive the whole way myself,” he said to Jack. “I don’t want you falling asleep at the wheel. I’m going to have my photo printed in tomorrow’s paper. Things are finally looking up for me. I don’t want to die because you and Ro went at it like bonobos in the night. I mean, it’s great and all, but I just got Suzi fixed up as best as I could. A little more work when we get back and then all I have to do is put in the new leather seats you promised. Do you want to see the samples? They had crocodile skin too. Can you believe it? It’s a bit nubby. So I told them to . . .”
Itwasa long way back, but I drifted off in the back seat as Bahati chattered on. Parts of me I never knew I had were sore, but sublimely so. Every now and then, Jack glanced at me from the passenger seat. We had a secret language going, whole stanzas hidden in our eyes.
As we drove past Magesa, evening started to settle around us. Jack guided Bahati to the spot where our car had broken down. It was still there, lonely and dusty. We had picked up the spare parts in Wanza, and the ground was finally dry, but it took a while to patch it up. By the time we got back on the trail, the moon was high and Bahati’s headlights bounced behind us, all the way back to Kaburi Estate.
“You think they’re up?” I asked Jack when we passed through the stone pillars at the gate. Goma had demanded an estimated time of arrival.
“I hope not. It’s almost dawn.” His eyes wandered over the rows of coffee plants, assessing them out of habit. The tops were starting to turn a silvery pink as morning stirred beyond the majestic peaks of Kilimanjaro.
Bahati parked next to us, and we got out, lugging our backpacks behind us.
Jack fiddled with the keys before shaking his head. “Goma left the door open again.”
Bahati chuckled as I stepped inside. It felt good to drop my bags and soak up the warmth of the place. It made me realize how much the farm had grown on me, and how much I’d missed it.
“I think I’ll—” I froze as I looked around the living room.
Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.
Family portraits lay smashed on the floor, glass strewn like glittering confetti; lamps were toppled over, cushions strewn, curtains hanging askew.
“Jack, someone’s been here . . .” I trailed off when I saw him picking up a blood-soaked bandana.
He straightened, holding it up, his face twisted in dark, dazzling fury. “K.K.” He crushed the bandana in his fist and whirled around, racing through the house. “Goma! Scholastica!”
There were bloody palm prints by the door, blood on the floor, blood on the banister, on the stairs. Everywhere.
A primitive alarm began ringing in my head. K.K. had scanned Jack’s driver’s license. He knew his name. He knew where he lived. He had come for Jack but had found Goma and Scholastica instead.
Oh God. Scholastica.I shuddered, imagining the moment he’d seen her. He made his living off kids like her. What better way to get back at Jack than steal her from right under his roof? And finish his grandmother off too.
My bones turned brittle. Anxiety filled my veins as we searched the house.
