Cut’s laughter laced around me. Commands to dance consumed me.
I tried to dart away, but the ground rolled like a funhouse. Vertigo latched me in its horrendous arms.
I fell forward. I was caught.
I swayed to the side. I was propped up.
Daniel’s eyes. Cut’s eyes. Laughter. Dangerous promises. Lust and greed and pain.
I couldn’t.
I couldn’t fight it anymore.
My vertigo balanced. My veins sang with drunkenness and I lost everything.
In a circle of sweaty ebony women, I shed my worries, my fears, my hopes. I ceased to be Nila. I stopped being a victim.
The diamonds on my throat increased in weight and warmth, squeezing me tight and drenching me in rainbows from the fire.
I stopped pining for Jethro.
I stopped fearing my future.
I stepped into the magic and danced.
Chapter Six
Jethro
AFRICA.
The witching hour stole the continent as I ran through customs and exploded through the arrival gates. Sir Seretse Khama Airport welcomed me back before spewing me out into the chilly night of Gaborone. I hadn’t been in Botswana for two years, yet it felt as if I’d never left.
I avoided coming here. I couldn’t handle the emotional currents from our workers. I hated feeling their toil and trouble. I hated seeing secrets and shimmers of how unhappy they were.
The last time I’d come, I’d talked to Kes about doing something about it.
He became our official mediator. Behind Cut’s back, he travelled often and built a rapport with the men who’d been in our employment for centuries. In his quintessential style of helping and generosity, he improved the living conditions, gave them higher salaries, safer workplace, and secret bonuses for their plight.
He ensured Cut’s slaves turned into willing employees with health benefits and satisfaction.
Cut didn’t know.
There was so much he didn’t know.
But then again, what Cut didn’t know didn’t hurt him. And it meant our enterprise ran smoother because no ill will and destitution could undermine it.
“Goddammit, where are the fucking drivers?” I jogged toward the vehicle stand, searching for any sign of hailing a lift.
Taxis were few and lingering opportunists rare at this time of night.
I hadn’t slept in days. My wound had ruptured and my fever grew steadily worse. But I didn’t have time to care. My senses were shredded from the flight and it was all I could do to remain standing.
But Nila was with my father.
Nila was running out of time.
I’m coming.
