||KIMULI||
I stir awake at the sound of utensils. My eyes hurt at the sight of the bright light. Though my heart awakens with happiness, causing my mouth to form a banana smile upon seeing my pretty Zawadi lying on my chest. Sleeping soundly oblivious to the reality of her life. It makes me genuinely happy to know that she can feel some peace even if it's just for the night. I don't recall when I fell asleep. I must have been so drowned my brains and eyes gave up leaving the TV on. It later went on sleep mode after the movie came to an end.
My eyes dart on the fair face and for the first time in my life, I feel complete. As if I just found the missing part of my soul. She makes me feel complete. If this is how Jason feels when he's with Kes, then I can't blame him when he acts all protective. He's simply looking out for what is his. And I will do the same when it comes to this pretty woman.
I struggle up and look through to the kitchen, I notice a moving figure. It's my mom. Damn it! She must have come to remind me about our shoot that is supposed to happen tomorrow. It's a family photoshoot. We like having them for memories and mom's show off on social media. My chaotic cousin Tina will be joining us today from Coast. She has always loved it when we go for thematic shoots and hates to miss out on any of them.
"Baby," I caress her face stirring her awake.
Her eyes open slowly, adjusting to the bright light. She looks so sleepy and adorable. If we didn't have an intruder in the house, I would have allowed her to sleep. Too bad, we have one who will tease me to annoyance the minute I step out of this couch.
"Hey," she whispers.
"Morning," I smile at her. "We have a visitor," I tell her.
Her face immediately turns into that of a scared puppy. It makes me smile. But once she takes note of my smiley face she frowns. She thinks it's a joke.
"In the kitchen," I whisper. She looks to see a figure working in there.
"Oh my gosh! It's your mom," she whispers in a panicked voice.
"Relax, she isn't going to do anything," I hush her. Her hands cling to me as she tries to calm down and look normal. When she calms down, I help her lift up and we both step out of the couch.
Mom sees us, leaves whatever she is doing and comes into the living room. She gives us a once over with a knowing grin that makes me roll my eyes.
"Ah, good morning, Adan," she greets her enthusiastically.
"Good morning, ma'am," she responds politely.
My mom smiles at her. I find myself praying that they will get along so that it will not come to a point where I will be torn between them.
"Remind me again why you had to come this early," I grumble.
"Nine am is early?" she smirks. I hate that look. It spells trouble.
"Oh, is it?" I ask turning to Zawadi.
She shrugs making mom chuckle.
"Go freshen up. Your chaotic cousin is on her way here. And if you don't want to start your day in a gloomy mood better start walking." I hold Zawadi's hand. She doesn't resist but she's tensed. I sooth the back of it willing her to relax as we walk upstairs. "Oh, please tell me to decided to take my advice," she says making a grin.
"Yes, I did," I respond. "If it makes you happy."
"Good, we have a lot to talk about."
She will make me sit down with her and narrate everything. It will be more of a gossip session. I won't entertain having Tina around. It would turn out so bad especially when she ingests her commentaries. They are the worst but sometimes surprisingly the best. However, I'm not taking chances.
"No, we don't!"
"We'll see about that," she says.
Once we are upstairs, we trend through the hallway. My master bedroom is just past Zawadi's room by two doors. Quite far when it comes to her. If I was asked, I would prefer it when she was in my room. No doors to get past to get to her.
"Your mom has no problem with seeing you with a random woman in the house?" she asks.
The word random leaves her mouth hesitantly. She fears that she nothing more than a random. And I can see it in her eyes that if she is one it will crumble her. She'll be ruined. Though the good thing is that this isn't one sided. We're both in it. She is special. She is more to me than just a random woman. She is mine. Private property that I won't let anyone put their filthy hands on.
"First, you're not a random woman," she delights at my response. "Secondly, since I bought this house, no woman has been here if it's not a cousin, aunt or her," I motion my head to refer to mom. "You're the first one," she shies away.
I'll have to kiss the shyness out of her. Not that I don't like it. On the contrary, I love it. It makes her look adorably innocent even though we both know that deep down she far more than that.
"That's flattering," she comments.
"It's the truth," I defend. She shakes her head as we continue walking. Then I remember something. I halt and pull her to me making her body slam on my immobile one with an intense force. "Sorry, baby. But can I get a morning hug?"
"You've just made it happen," she pouts.
"A real one, please," I plead with puppy dog eyes. No one has been known to resist them. She gives in and embraces me warmly. I take a moment to enjoy it. Kissing her temple, my mom's voice interrupts.
"Breakfast in two minutes, Evans."
"I heard that," I growl back.
Zawadi's hands hold on me tight. The growl deliciously affected her. Damn it! It makes me overthink things I shouldn't. At least not yet.
"She seems fun," she comments stepping away from our hug.
"More of annoying."
"In the best way," she shrugs.
"Don't you dare take her side," she balls her eyes looking away. "Go dress up. We still have an appointment at eleven."
"Okay."
"Once done, come join us downstairs," I tell her.
She nods and disappears into the room. I still at the door comprehending everything. I am in love with whatever is going on and I am not ready to let any of it go. I'm going to hold on to it cause it feels so good and fulfilling.
I'm in my room, I quickly have my shower and then dress up. Head downstairs where I find mom arranging our plates. It's good that she even came. It would have taken a lot to have me prepare breakfast. It's not that I can't cook. I am good in the kitchen, just that I don't like showing off plus the morning feels lazy and intimate to start getting into the kitchen.
"So, looks like you did not waste your time," she starts as I make my way to the dining table.
"I didn't," I say.
"What's going on between you?" she asks as she takes a seat too.
"She's mine and I am hers," her eyes ball out. "Too groggy? Okay, my girlfriend." Zawadi may not know it, but she is.
"Does she still work at the club?" she asks in a tone that makes it clear that she won't like it if at all she does work there.
"Don't be judgy, mom."
"No, I'm just asking," she defends even though I know that she means it.
"She doesn't. I fired her and got her a new job. And before you ask which one, I want you to know that she isn't so cool as you see her. Don't be hard on her or so inquisitive. I'll tell you her story or she'll tell you when she is ready," I say.
"Is she good?" her tone is interested.
"Innocent," I whisper winking.
"Gaah! Let's eat," she blubbers.
I got her. No more talking about Zawadi until we are all alone and I can tell her all she needs to know. A moment later, she walks downstairs looking good in her white flare and flat shoes. It makes her look like she is an angel in my dream who will soon disappear when I wake up.
"Come sit, Adan," mom calls on her softly. She walks up and sits next to her with a smile on her face, you'd think she has been schooled.
"Thank you," she appreciates when mom serves her breakfast.
"I was almost starting to think that Kim here was incapable of bringing a beautiful lady to the house," mom sneers.
"Mom," I call in a warning tone.
"I was just giving you credits. Nothing personal. So Zawadi is your name?" she turns her attention to a Zawadi who is trying her best to hide her laughter.
"Yes ma'am," she says.
"Pretty name. I believe women don't like complimenting their fellow women when it comes to beauty but I will do it. You're very beautiful. Call me Neisha."
"I'm humbled, ma'am. I mean, Neisha."
"Good girl," she says. "Would you mind telling me where you come from?"
"Marsabit," she responds. I bite on my fried egg and toast.
"Isn't love a wanderlust thing, Kim?" I almost choke on my toast. Looks like she has already ridden into something bigger. Love. The one thing I secretly hoped to ever find but hid it deep down in the name of 'it's nothing but a scam'.
"How would I know, mom?" I ask in pretence.
"Never mind him," she dismisses me rolling her eyes and turns her attention back to Zawadi.
"I don't mean to pry but aren't you a Muslim? You know, the mode of dressing," she inquires.
I keenly look at Zawadi. She looks at me and I smile at her before she looks at mom who is working on her toast.
"I am not one to follow tradition so much. But in case I am at home, I do follow. To avoid talking mouths and prying eyes," she says. Mom laughs.
"Clever. Staying under the radar. Seems like people there have nothing much to do other than pry," she comments. Her commentary isn't amusing at all. And I hope Zawadi won't take it personally.
"Mostly they don't. I live in a town where you know everyone and everyone knows you. So there is not much to hide. Hence the need to oblige to the society's demands," she explains relaxingly.
"Must be quite hard," mom mutters.
"Sometimes," she shrugs.
There is silence on the table. Not the uncomfortable kind though. It feels okay.
"I'm glad to meet you, dear," she says in a while.
"I am too," Zawadi says.
"Welcome to the house. I'm sure he didn't bother welcoming you," she teases.
"Did I?" I ask Zawadi.
"Yes he did," she responds.
"You must be special," mom mumbles making me smile.
"Oh, that she is."
She shakes her head and goes back to eating. We talk more. She tells me that we need to be at the shooting venue by seven. You'll never understand what it is about photographers and mornings. Zawadi talks more about her life back home. Mostly what they do and how they do it. Nothing much about her family. I have learnt that it's out of her habit to not always speak about them. Mostly because of her father.
☆☆☆☆
We are at the police station. Zawadi wouldn't stop worrying so I have to keep on holding her hand. She is excited and at the same time worried that it might fail again. I have promised her a million times that it won't fail and I will see to that. Her father won't have anything to do with their lives soon. That's for sure.
We walk through the corridor, following an officer who is leading us to Kelvin's office. Once there, he knocks before opening the door and letting us in.
"Welcome," Kelvin says.
"Thank you," I respond.
We sit at the designated chairs as we wait for him to proceed.
"Zawadi, it's nice to have you back on better circumstances," he says.
"The current circumstance is no better Kelvin," I slur.
"Is that so? Tell me more, Zawadi," he states with interest.
Zawadi tells her about him. Every detail starting from his abusive nature, all the violence he showered upon them. His greed for money. Kelvin asks several questions in between. She is more than glad to answer them. He puts down something in his notebook. I listen keenly as I watch my girl give her a sad life story without a tear falling down her cheeks. It makes me love her more. If she wasn't subjected to all that torture, she would have become a spirited nymph. The kind that would drift every man from the desert into the barrels of spiky porcupines. Then watch in amusement as they scream in agony from the pain the spikes inflict on their bodies.
"Quite a moving story there," he comments. "Kim, don't you agree?" he snaps me back to my senses. Zawadi notices that I have been watching her. She smiles. "Totally," I respond still staring at her. So much communication going on between us. Kelvin shouldn't feel like a third wheeler. He has his wife and he understands. As I assume.
"Good, we'll process the papers," he says. "That's if you want us to start the work immediately," he adds.
"Immediately, please," Zawadi states.
"Alright. Looks like we are going to have a trip to the North tomorrow," he mumbles shuffling through his papers.
I want to protest but I remember it's what is good for her. For me. The fast we start this work, the better. So she'll be mine with nothing coming in between. Selfish bastard.
"I am coming, right?" she asks.
"Yes. We'll need you," he says.
"I have something here. It's recorded phone conversations," she says fishing her phone out of her purse.
She unlocks it and starts scrolling before she gets them. She puts them on. One is that he called to threaten her about going home to do his bidding. Another one asking if she got his money. That must be the night she was caught. It makes me mad when I hear how vulnerable she sounds in the recordings.
"Brilliant," Kelvin says in a pleased voice.
"Thanks. A friend of mine suggested it," she says.
"Must be clever," he compliments.
"That he is," she says happily.
The mention of the alerts me, raising my curiosity wanting to know who this he is.
"Can you call, him? Tell him that you want to speak to your mom and then tell him you want to go home and do what he asked you. We'll record that too," he suggests.
She is hesitant for a minute. I hold her hand in mine and soothe it. Then tell her it will be okay. She dials the number which is quickly answered. The first thing he asks is if she has more money to send. She says no and he is furious. She pleads to speak to her mom but he insults her and tells her that he will only let her if she adds a few thousand on top of her fortnight instalments.
He tells that her mom doesn't even bother about her. She knows that she is involved in harlotry in the city to provide him with the money. It breaks her. No one would want their mother to think she earns money through prostitution. But this coward makes it look that way in the eyes of her mother. She holds my hand tighter as tears slip down her cheeks. She is about to give up. I hold her hand tighter to hopefully give her more strength.
She tells him she will be going home tomorrow to do his bidding. He is more than happy to know that his fortune will be home soon. He also tells her that he'll arrange everything. All she has to do is wait a few more days. She agrees to it with more painful tears that slice my heart. When she is done, she wipes the tears with the back of her hands. Kelvin is astonished. I'm amazed. I'm wondering why a worthless man like him gets to earn the title of father. He doesn't deserve it. Fuck him! I am mad. I thought my father was worse. But she has seen worse. We are but kindred souls lacking the love of a father. Not that we ever needed it anyway.
"For a careless man like him, nabbing him won't be a task. It will like catching chicken on a rainy day. Very easy," Kelvin says. "If you're ready to travel, we can make arrangements. You'll be travelling with two officers from my department. They will lias with a few officers I have called. Also, we need a lawyer in case the case proceeds to court."
"Don't worry about that," I chime in. Zawadi looks at me in amazement. She is still trying to wrap everything around her head.
"Okay. In the meantime, I'll process the documents. You'll just have to wait in the waiting room."
"Alright."
We both stand and walk out. Make our way through the fine corridors to the waiting room. There are a few more people there who stare at us as if we've just landed from Mars. We ignore them as we are supposed to.
"I'm sorry you had to endure the jerk's inhumane ways," I say to her as I pull her into a warm embrace to make her feel better.
The woman at the receptionist sneers at her. She doesn't like it that I am hugging her. I feel like walking up to her, tell her to freaking stop sneering at my woman and go back to what brought her here. But it's best to watch her waste her envy on a woman she doesn't even know.
"It's okay. I'm just happy to know that soon he'll be out of our lives," she says looking up to me. "You were watching me back there, what were you envisioning?" We take an empty seat at the corner.
"A spirited nymph leading men to their downfalls," I tell her. She laughs lightly at my ridiculous statement.
"Save for you?" she asks mischievously.
"I was among them until I discovered a soft spot that won me an exception," I respond.
"You're unbelievable."
"And you like me," I tease.
"A little," she says looking away. She likes me a whole lot but she won't just admit it. I love that.
"Ouch! So, this friend of yours, should I be worried?"
"Maybe," she says with a playful tone.
"Adan, I can't have competitors. Otherwise, I'll start thinking of breaking their legs," I say with a slightly cautionary tone.
"Oh," she breathes. She gets that on one hand, I am not so very serious but on the other, I mean it. It's contradicting. "You definitely don't have to worry about him."
"That's good. May I know him?" I ask still curious.
"His name is Hussein. My neighbour back home and he's three years younger," she says.
"You can be a sugar mummy," I tease. She shoots me a hot glare I think I haven't seen before. And it's scary.
"Kim," she warns.
"Just saying," I say in surrender.
"He's my sister's, love," she proceeds. My eyes ball out in surprise.
"She's seventeen for crying out loud. She can't have a boyfriend," I growl.
She laughs so hard that I have to stare at her laugh. But then I frown wondering what is funny about it. What could a seventeen-year-old possibly know about love? That's infatuation!
"You're so protective. If you had a little sister, she'd be a rebellious girl."
"I'm glad I don't. I would have to be I be in jail for kicking the boys' asses. How do you handle it?"
"Being a big sister?" she asks.
"Yes," I respond watching her proudly.
"I try. I do teach my little sister. She knows more than she should and she will do no stupid thing. Besides, Hussein just came back. He was away in Ethiopia since she was thirteen."
"Still," I insist making her giggle.
"She shouldn't get pregnant though. She knows that like the back of her hand."
"You're very strong, do you know that?"
"I am?"
"Not everyone can handle all you have been through and still try to make it work as you do," I tell her.
"I try."
"That's why I am finding myself drowning in you," I say pulling her to me.
"We are in a police station," she mumbles.
"Who cares?" I shrug.
Her phone rings. I'm sure it's Kes. She won't stop nagging her. She already wants her best friend. I can't blame her. Zawadi is irresistible once you get addicted to having her around. You will not want to let her go and that's why the mere thought of taking her to Kes's place later wounds my heart. It feels like rusty iron sheets splitting roughly through my biceps. I don't want to let go. I want to keep her. But I have to understand that patience is what I require to have. Soon she'll be all mine. That's assuming that nothing changes between us. Which of course I don't want to happen.
I take my phone and scroll through social media as I wait for her to finish the call. Mom has sent me a photo message. My curiosity draws me to it. I swing on to WhatsApp and check it out. Wolf! It's a picture of me and Zawadi. Soundly sleeping on the couch. Sneaky and creepy of her. It looks like she applied so much of her photography skills. The angles, the aperture and whatever else she needed to get a monumental photo. Though, I definitely love it. It's the first photo of us and we look so perfect if I was asked. I stare at her figure feeling so lost and still drawn to her even in the photo. When she is done with the call, she joins me. I don't show her the photo. I'll send it to her once she's home. She'll have something to stare at when she can't see me.
Once the papers are done, we are released. Zawadi should be at the station by seven. It conflicts with me since I can't bring her. She understands and even though I insist on bringing her she says she won't like it if I do it. She insists she will be okay and I have nothing else but to give in. Stubborn wench.
Soon, I am driving her to Kes with much difficulty. I'm trying my best to understand even though it beats me sometimes and all I feel like is turning the truck and take her back home with me. Patience Evans.
"Are you sure you'll be okay?" I ask her.
"I will be. They said I will be having an escort. I'm just a little nervous facing my father again. I don't know what to expect."
She says expressing her fear. She is still nervous and I wish I could be with her there. I would defend her in every way I could from him. He wouldn't even get a metre near her or even put his filthy hands on him.
"You'll be having a tracking and recording device. Whatever he'll do, they will know. You don't have to worry. Just be strong for me, baby. I want you back here soon."
"I'll try my best. Having you to come back to will keep me strong. Adding Kes on top will make me stronger," she says humbly. It damn makes me emotional.
"And I will be impatiently waiting for you, baby. Plus I wanna kiss you right now cause I know I won't get a chance to when we get to Kes's place."
"Shall we?" she says daringly.
"You're toxic," I groan.
We pack at a little distance away from the gate and kiss her so hard she moans in my mouth. Her moans travel deep to my toes arousing me. Not a good time to start getting worked up.
"I would strip these clothes in a second if I was sure your best friend wouldn't sneak in anytime," I groan on her lips.
"I hear her opening the gate," she murmurs on my lips before she nibbles lightly on them and then retreats to right herself.
The gate is still being opened on the inside. We wait patiently. A few minutes later, Kes comes out. She screams when joy when she sees her. Zawadi jumps out of the truck and rushes to hug her. They embrace tightly for a while. Their bond is unbreakable. A literal picture of my brotherly bond with Jason. When they both retreat, she comes to me, hugs me and thanks me for bringing her home.
While she does so, Zawadi shoots me hot glares. She is fighting every nerve that's pushing her to run to me. We can't let our budding relationship ruin the newfound peace. Leaving her comes hard to me. But I will myself to be patient. Kes walks back to her and they both start towards the gate. She unsurely waves. I lift a chin and then she disappears into the building.
Patience Evans. Patience.