by V. K. Powell
“What? Sara, what’s wrong?”
“Too much.” Tears were streaming down her face and she seemed perfectly willing to let them come. “Too many feelings.” She took a halting breath and tried to speak again, but nothing came out.
Zak inched closer. “Please let me help you. I don’t understand what’s happening.”
Her statement seemed to drag Sara back to a semi-coherent state. Fire flashed in her dark brown eyes but the tears continued to fall. “Of course you don’t understand.” Her voice hitched as she spoke through sobs. “You don’t understand anything emotional.” She spread her arms wide and turned in a circle as she talked. “Imagine this. You’re in a foreign country, your guide has a death wish and could be an axe murderer for all you know, your girlfriend is a lying, cheating slut who is spending your money to entertain her fuck buddies, and—” She paused for a breath and a fresh round of sobs. “And then you’re arrested, thrown into a smelly, hot, scary vehicle with no windows or ventilation, driven for hours in the dark, tossed into a sweltering cell with human excrement, vermin, and unsanitary people who poke your body with their fingers, and allowed no phone call.” She stared at Zak with eyes that alternated a look of challenge and pain. “Tell me, Zak, would you feel anything then? Would you?”
Zak was relieved that at least Sara was ranting again. This was normal, but the agony in her eyes was unnatural. It summoned Zak like a hypnotist calls his subject. She approached Sara slowly, gently hugged her, and guided her around the broken glass on the floor to the edge of the bed. Sara smelled of soap and a flowery shampoo, not her usual scents. She relaxed against Zak and the warmth of her body made Zak feel needed. Sweeping the papers onto the floor, she urged Sara to lie down and then sat beside her.
“I’m having a meltdown.” Sara wiped tears from her eyes. “I usually let my feelings out, but I guess I’ve let things build up lately.”
“It’s okay.” She stroked Sara’s wet hair and fingered stray strands from her forehead. “Can I get you anything?” Zak felt so inadequate. How was she supposed to deal with an emotional unraveling? She’d always run away from her own. But she wanted to help Sara, to be whatever she needed, at least for a while.
“Would you lie down and just hold me for a few minutes?”
Zak hadn’t expected such an honest and intimate request. Her body started moving before her mind formulated a response. “Um, okay.”
“If it makes you uncomfortable, don’t.”
Zak’s mind told her to stop, but she wanted to be near Sara more than she’d realized. She stretched out on the bed and pulled Sara into her arms. The action felt so normal, so instinctive that the tenderness of it surprised her. She sighed in relief and her body softened into Sara’s curves.
Sara nuzzled her head onto Zak’s shoulder. “Thank you.” They lay in silence for so long that Zak thought Sara might have drifted off until she spoke again. “I feel like such a fool. Everybody told me about Rikki but I wouldn’t believe them. Even after I saw the pictures, I still thought they could be wrong. She was always so attentive and affectionate. But this report.” She waved her arms around the room. “It’s worse than I imagined. She’s been using my money to wine and dine her paramours. How stupid am I?”
Zak felt Sara’s body stiffen against her. “You’re not stupid. You just wanted to trust your lover.”
“Yeah, and she just wanted my money. Is that my only redeeming quality?”
“Absolutely not.” Zak looked her in the eye. “You’re one of the most capable and principled people I’ve ever met. You constantly amaze me with your insight. You’re compassionate to a fault. And that’s just what I’ve seen so far.”
Sara’s face brightened a little and the spark returned to her eyes. “I knew you liked me.”
“I can’t help myself.” Zak was surprised at the honesty of her reply. But the glimmer in Sara’s eyes dimmed a bit and Zak’s heart skipped a beat. “Did I say something wrong?”
“No, you said something very right.” Sara touched the side of her face and heat scorched Zak’s body like a brush fire during the dry season. “But you scared me today, Zak. I don’t want to be afraid of you, but I can’t handle violence. If it’s part of who you are and what you do, I need to know now.”
Sara’s words were like a sudden African downpour, dowsing the heat in Zak’s body. She’d always dreaded having a woman she cared about ask for something she couldn’t give. She had nurtured her deadly intentions toward Wachira for years. She wasn’t sure if she could let them go for a lover, even for Sara. Her job had never required that she kill anyone, but she might have to. How could she explain her conundrum to Sara without telling her the truth? Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option in her profession.
Zak’s conflicting feelings churned until she felt she might explode. She was unaccustomed to such emotional intensity and had to do something with it. Cupping Sara’s face between her hands, she held her gaze. “I would never hurt you. Please, believe me. I—”
Sara’s mouth was on hers before Zak could say more. Wispy, tentative kisses teased her lips, and the tip of Sara’s tongue traced the outline of her mouth, seeking entry. Zak answered with a hungry, demanding kiss. She buried her hands in the thick wet hair at the nape of Sara’s neck and pulled her in so forcefully she was afraid their lips might bruise. With her tongue she probed the contrasting textures of Sara’s tongue, teeth, and soft tissue, savoring each one and committing it to sensory memory. The delicate nerve endings in her tongue seemed directly connected to her clit as wave after wave of sensation swept through her. She had never been this physically present, as if her body was acting of its own accord while from above she mentally watched someone she didn’t know doing something she’d always wanted to do—surrender to her feelings.
“Oh, Sara,” she breathed, gulping for air. Sara raked her hands through Zak’s hair and pressed their bodies closer. Her breath was moist against the side of Zak’s neck. She bent from the waist, still maintaining contact with her lower body, and tugged at the buttons on Zak’s shirt. “Please, Zak. I need you.”
Her plea, like a double-edged sword, sliced through Zak and pulled her back to reality. She clung to Sara, not wanting to let go though mentally withdrawing from her. The physical connection was almost too overpowering to break. Her body craved it. She wanted it more than she could have imagined. But her traitorous mind replayed all the reasons this was not a good idea. She reluctantly withdrew from Sara’s embrace.
“I’m sorry. I can’t do this.”
Sara stared at her with eyes full of pain. “You keep saying that. I believe you can do it. And I know you want to.” As if another possibility suddenly came to mind, she pulled completely away from Zak. “You’re not attracted to me? You just feel sorry for me?”
The idea horrified Zak and she froze, unable to articulate how absurd that option was. But the hesitation only fueled Sara’s imagination.
“Get out. I don’t need or want anyone’s pity, especially not yours.”
“Sara.” Zak wanted to explain but Sara was in no mood to listen.
“Leave. Now.”
Hoping to appeal to her on another level, Zak tried again. “I need to know about what happened today.”
“By all means, let’s keep this professional. Well, right now your needs don’t matter much to me. I’m exhausted and I want to rest.” She held the door open for Zak. “I’ll be happy to brief you tomorrow on our drive back. At least we’ll have something to talk about.”
Zak stepped into the hallway and before she could protest further, the door slammed with a thud.
Chapter Eleven
The next morning Sara sipped coffee in the Stanley’s Thorn Tree Café and distracted herself with her surroundings. When had the famous message tree downsized from a statuesque acacia to a tiny tree encircled by a felt tack board? However, it comforted her to think of all the people from decades before who had left notes stuck to its surface. How many family, friends, and l
overs had the message tree reunited? It was sad that she wouldn’t be so happily joined with her love.
She’d been up since three in the morning replaying her interaction with Zak, reviewing the private investigator’s report, and rehearsing the conversation she was getting ready to have with Rikki. As the phone rang several times on the other end, she knew her performance had to be perfect because Rikki was always tuned in to her moods. Sara had assumed it was because she loved her. Now she knew it was a necessity of being an unfaithful partner.
“Hey, babe.” The perky voice was a bit too high-pitched, an alcohol-induced condition Sara recognized from months of experience.
“Rikki, I’ve made arrangements for you to visit next weekend. You’ll love the Stanley. It’s one of the first and most luxurious hotels in Nairobi. It has quite a history and ambience. Say you’ll come.”
Sara struggled to keep the irritation and disappointment from her voice as she sold Rikki on the visit. While she hated the idea of spending one more dime on her philandering lover, she needed a face-to-face in order to end this farce of a relationship. Anything less would be a cop-out. She needed to take a stand on her own behalf, to prove she was worthy of being more than the holder of the purse strings.
“You know how I hate substandard. You sure? Will you have time for us to be together?”
Like that’s ever going to happen again, Sara thought. “I’ve arranged everything. All you have to do is pack a bag and get yourself to the airport.”
“Great, I’ll be there. Can’t wait to see you, babe. I’ve missed you so much.”
The words almost made Sara gag. Was she really hearing Rikki for the first time or had her infidelity colored everything with a film of distrust and self-doubt? “See you next Saturday.”
“Love you, Sara.”
She knew the automatic response Rikki expected but couldn’t force it from her mouth. “Good-bye, Rikki.”
She felt as if a partial weight had lifted off her shoulders. The other half of the boulder would have to wait until Saturday. She stared into the cold cup of coffee in front of her and massaged her throbbing temples. Yesterday’s arrest seemed like a bad dream turned nightmare when she’d asked Zak to hold her. She’d felt so emotionally distraught, but what made her think this woman would understand that well enough to offer solace? If she knew nothing else about Zak Chambers, she knew that she didn’t do emotional.
But it had felt so right. When Zak cradled her in her arms, Sara knew nothing bad could touch her. Their bodies settled into a perfect fit. She felt completely safe, but beyond that it seemed as if Zak was comfortable with her as well. She hadn’t imagined the release of tension from her body as they hugged. It was the ideal moment to kiss Zak.
As she traced the lines of Zak’s mouth with her tongue and tasted the salty mint of her lips, shivers of arousal swept through her with such intensity she almost cried out. Zak was hungry and responsive, taking her tongue deep into her mouth. The heat between them flared and Sara wanted to be naked and sweaty with this woman who had intrigued her since the moment they met. Their kiss deepened and Sara clenched her lower abdominal muscles to stall an orgasm that threatened to overtake her. She loved kissing Zak so much she wondered if it was possible to climax from that alone. No other lover had affected her that way.
But when Sara had reached for the buttons of her shirt, Zak stopped her. Sara knew the look in Zak’s eyes had been pure lust, but maybe she’d misread the extent of her interest. Zak disengaged emotionally, physically, and completely, as if they were strangers. That’s when reality struck like a blast of arctic air. Zak felt sorry for her. She’d needed comfort and reached out to someone she thought cared for her, at least a little. But the expression on Zak’s face had been both disturbingly arousing and terribly distant. She could take almost anything from Zak except that. If they ever had sex it would be because they both wanted it, not a pity fuck.
She chastised herself for being so open with Zak, then realized she had no choice. She couldn’t hide her feelings, even if she appeared to be an emotional basket case. Her instincts told her that Zak cared for her but was unwilling or unable to express her feelings. The only way to reach her was to expose her own vulnerability, which was dangerous. Sara wasn’t sure if she could take rejection from this woman who had so quickly insinuated herself into her life.
“Mind if I join you?”
Zak’s deep voice vibrated through her like a low-volt shock, and she took a settling breath. The shirt buttons she’d pawed at the night before hung loosely through the button holes like they might fall off any moment. Sara imagined the firm breasts hidden behind the shirt as she watched the steady rise and fall of Zak’s chest. Her body responded to their proximity and she couldn’t force herself to make eye contact. She had to maintain composure or everyone in the restaurant would know what she was thinking.
“Actually, I’m finished and I need to get ready to leave. Meet you here later.”
Zak touched her arm as she rose to leave. “Sara, I—”
“Enjoy your breakfast.” Whatever Zak had to say, Sara couldn’t hear it while surrounded by strangers whose presence made it mandatory that she appear unaffected.
Sara stopped at the front desk and made reservations for Rikki’s visit the following weekend. When she turned to leave, the desk clerk handed her an envelope marked “confidential.” She opened it and scanned the contents. Randall had worked quickly to retrieve the information she’d requested on land ownership in the Narok District. She wondered how he’d tracked her down to the Stanley and decided Zak must have contacted him when she was arrested. On the way back to her room, she scanned the pages and tried to make sense of the statistics and rough maps.
It was already after noon when she returned to the restaurant. She’d lost track of time reviewing the information Randall sent. Zak was seated in the same place Sara had left her, the table covered with several papers she was studying intently. “Light reading?”
Zak stuffed the pages back into an envelope like the one Sara received earlier. “Ready to go?”
Sara nodded and followed her to the truck. As Zak slowly traversed the congested Thika Highway out of Nairobi, Sara took in the sights she’d been unable to see on her way into the city. Nairobi could have been any other metropolitan area with its office buildings in the downtown area and people dressed for work moving quickly while talking on cell phones. But the farther from town they drove, the bleaker their surroundings became. Smog and exhaust fumes from the city permeated the outlying areas and mingled with the scents of wood smoke, rotting garbage, and sweat. Hundreds of people lined both sides of the road, either walking or selling goods. Bags of charcoal and vegetables were stacked along the right-of-way with signs and prices attached.
“Where do they get charcoal?” she asked Zak.
“They cut trees and burn them. Charcoal is used to do most cooking and for heat. It’s cheaper and more reliable than electricity.”
The makeshift markets continued for miles, then eventually gave way to lush green fields and greenhouses. “What do they grow here?”
“Coffee and tea in the fields and flowers in the greenhouses. Many of the coffee growers have converted to flowers because big business and the government don’t control the industry, yet. The production of cut flowers is almost as lucrative as tea, coffee, and tourism.” Zak sounded like a tour guide and Sara longed for a more personal connection. Her interest in and tolerance for small talk disappeared as the landscape provided less and less inspiration. She wouldn’t be able to bear the silence between them for long. Sara needed to say some things, whether Zak wanted to hear them or not.
As if reading her mind, Zak asked, “Will you tell me what happened yesterday, please?”
Sara reiterated the stop and subsequent arrest in detail as Zak asked her to repeat things several times for clarification. “Knowing how I feel about violence, you can’t think the gun was mine. And from the look on Joey’s face, he’d never seen i
t either.”
“He said they were stopped on the way to work yesterday right outside the camp and his van was searched.” Zak’s expression changed from concentration to recognition. “The police probably planted it then, called the jeshi with his vehicle description, and waited. It sounds like a Wachira plan.”
“Why would he do that?”
“He wants us off this land and he’ll do anything to make that happen.”
Sara removed the envelope from her purse. “And I think I’m beginning to understand why. I asked Randall to dig into the property ownerships in the area. Two powerful companies are interested in developing land in the Narok District. The Kenyan Tourism Group, KTG, has just opened a large resort nearby, and Africa World Wide, AWW, wants this particular piece of property to do the same. Obviously KTG isn’t excited about having competition so close to their operation. But I can’t figure how Wachira fits in.”
Zak’s blue eyes were dark but her facial expression fluctuated between irritation and admiration. “I asked you not to get involved.”
“I’m not involved. I just got some information. The more information we have, the better our chances of figuring this out.”
Her answer seemed to satisfy Zak for the moment. “Okay, but let it end there. I’ll take care of everything else.”
“So, what does any of this have to do with Wachira?”
“It’s financial and political. The KTG is associated with President Kibaki and his minister of tourism. KTG provides funding for financial institutions and infrastructure expansion, and focuses on health, education, culture, and rural and economic development. They’ve done a lot for the country and the affiliation works for both parties.”
“That’s all good, right?”
“Absolutely. But on the other hand, AWW purchases land near existing developments, taps into the infrastructure with low cost, strips the land, and puts nothing back into the community. The company is run by a group of corrupt men only interested in profits.”