Chapter 10

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Chapter 10

We were huddled around a scarred wooden workbench, this was it. The final meeting.

I stared down at the table, my hands shoved deep into the pockets of my jacket to hide the fact that they were trembling. On one side of the table, Shakes was obsessively fiddling with a collection of thermal sensors and electronic bypass tools.

"The gateway car is set," I said, my voice sounding like gravel hitting glass. I kept my gaze fixed on a heavy-duty rifle resting between us. "My car. It's tuned, the suspension is stiffened, and the plates are swapped. It's got the speed to leave anything on these streets in the rearview. We're good to go."

Ta Zet nodded, his face unreadable in the dim light. He began sorting through the arsenal. We had choices to make, rifles, handguns, precision tools. Everything laid out, picked up a compact submachine gun, feeling its weight.

"You checked the explosives?" I asked, looking toward the corner where the timers were taped down.

"Everything is primed," Shakes muttered, still focused on his thermal tech. He looked up, his eyes darting toward me. Then, his face did something annoying. He got that look. "I've been meaning to ask you this, does Omphile know? About this? About… all of this?"

The air in the room went dead quiet. I tightened my grip on the gun

"She doesn't need to know," I said, keeping my tone flat.

"She's your girl, man. She's got a right to know what she's getting into. If things go south, she's going to be in the blast radius. You should tell her. Give her the choice to walk away before you ruin her life."

"No I won't. I won't be involving her in this mess. She's too soft for this," I snapped, the words jumping out of my throat before I could stop them. My heart started hammering against my ribs.

"Then break up with her," Shakes countered, his voice rising. "If you can't tell her, let her go. Stop pretending you're living a normal life while you're out here planning to blow up a CIT van."

"Shut up," I hissed, leaning over the table. I could feel the heat rising in my neck. "You don't tell me what to do with my life. You don't know her. You don't know us."

"Easy," Ta Zet's voice cut through the tension like a blade. He didn't look up from a rifle he was cleaning, but his presence commanded the room to settle. "Save the energy for the road. We're all on edge. That's normal. But let's keep it professional. No more talk about the girl. We focus on the money."

I turned away, feeling like I was suffocating. I couldn't handle the conversation, but Shake's words had burrowed under my skin like maggots. I felt sick. I grabbed my phone, walked out of the garage, and into the damp night air.

I stood under the street lamp, my fingers dancing across the screen with a frantic, desperate need.

I searched on Google, how to make your girl, happy. Always. Answers shot up on my screen. Send her flowers.

Noted ..that's what I'll do.

I opened an app and messaged a high-end florist. Twelve red roses. The biggest bouquet they have. Send it to her residence. Now.

I didn't include a note. What could I say? Sorry I'm a monster? I just wanted her to have something beautiful. And for me to stop feeling this guilty. I stared at the confirmation screen until my eyes burned, then shoved the phone back into my pocket and walked back inside to finish the war.

The execution was a blur of adrenaline and white noise.

We were positioned on the outskirts of the industrial district, the CIT van coming down the long, lonely stretch of road like a slow-moving target. My heart was a drum beating in my ears. I kept my eyes on the road, my hands glued to the steering wheel, my foot hovering over the pedal.

"Now," I gritted out.

The explosion was a bone-shaking thud that vibrated through the chassis of my car. The van swerved, flipped, and skidded into the dirt, coughing up smoke and glass. We were out of the car before the dust even settled.

"Move!" I barked.

As I was running, I noticed From nearby warehouses, silhouettes emerged, they were carrying rifles. They had been tipped off. Gunshots went off ..

Bla! Bla! Bla!

Bullets shredded the air around us, sounding like angry wasps buzzing past my ears. I dove behind the frame of the burning van, returning fire. My rifle bucked against my shoulder, the smell of gunpowder instantly filling my nostrils. I saw one of them go down, his body hitting the dirt with a heavy thud, but there were two more behind him, spraying blind, chaotic fire.

"We've got company!" Shakes screamed, ducking as a bullet shattered the van's side mirror into a thousand diamonds.

"Keep the rhythm!" I yelled back, my mind completely cold now.

We sprinted for the gateway car. I dove into the driver's seat, slamming the car into gear just as a spray of bullets tore into the hood. Wham! A heavy round caught the side panel of the door, the metal groaning as the bullet ripped through the frame, missing my leg by mere inches.

I floored it. The tires screamed against the asphalt, burning rubber and smoke filling the cabin. The car surged forward, a beast unleashed. I didn't look back at the burning van or the men left in the dust. I kept my eyes locked on the horizon, drifting around the corner, my hands steady on the wheel, my heart a hollow, beating stone.

We were driving away.

OMPHILE

I had sat in that exam hall for three hours, the overhead fans clicking like a countdown, while the Advanced Accounting paper stared back at me like a brick wall. My brain was a fog of mismatched formulas and Zuko's voice. By the time I walked out, the sun was setting, and I felt hollow, convinced I'd just sabotaged my mother's entire dream for me.

My phone buzzed in my bag. I didn't even check the caller ID; I just pressed it to my ear.

"Hello."

"Whoah? Why do you sound so down baby?" Zuko's voice rumbled.

"I just wrote an exam and I am sure I failed," I croaked, the tears finally pricking my eyes as I walked back to my room. "I worked so hard, but the paper was... it was a nightmare. Everything I studied just vanished. I'm going to lose my bursary, and my mom is going to—"

"Breathe, Omphile," he interrupted, his tone firm but incredibly soft. "That's not going to happen, not going to fail."

"Hope so...I got the flowers, they are so beautiful. I literally have them decorating my room right now."

"Beautiful like you." He said.

"Are you going to be performing at the spinning event later this week?" I asked. "I was thinking of what to wear, and—"

"You're not going," he interrupted. His voice was firm.

I paused, a playful indignation rising in my chest. I let out a light laugh. "Oh, really? And who's going to stop me? You don't tell me what to do, Mr. Spinner. I'll be there in the front row."

"We'll see," he murmured. I laughed he's kidding.

For the next hour, I vented. I lay on my bed in my oversized pajamas and told him about what was in the paper, the questions they asked and the fear of being "just another girl from the Kasi" who didn't make it. He just listened, making small sounds of agreement, his presence a steady anchor through the line.

When we finally hung up, I felt a little lighter. I went to the communal kitchen to boil water, but five minutes later, my phone buzzed again.

"Come outside," he said.

"What? No, Zuko, it's late. And I'm in my pajamas. Like, the *ugly* ones."

"I think I can handle some pajamas. Your man would like to see his woman."

I threw on my slippers and a hoodie, feeling a flutter of nerves. When I stepped out into the cool night air, the white Golf was idling near the curb. Zuko stepped out, holding a brown paper bag. He was looking at me at me as I walked towards him. Suddenly I forgot how to walk.

"Snack therapy," he said, handing me the bag with a small smile. "I figured you wouldn't eat a proper dinner while you're busy mourning an exam you probably actually passed."

"Thank you," I whispered, moved by the simple kindness of it. I reached and pulled him down by his collar.

"Do you want to chill in the car?" I nodded and I got in the car as he did the same.

"This is sweet." I looked at the snacks taking them out. Lays, I opened a pack and started eating. It feels so good. He fumbled with his phone, connecting it to the car's Bluetooth.

A smooth, soulful beat began to pulse through the speakers—*All In You* by Senior Oat.

"Is this song okay?" he asked, glancing at me.

"I love this, afro music is my jam" I admitted.

"Really? I love this song. Zi way zam ezi." It's crazy how we have the same taste. I started to dig into the snacks. He also took some snacks, a handful and filled his mouth.

"Wait, Zuko! You bought these for me, now you're eating half the Simba chips!"

"I'm the delivery man," he joked, dodging my hand as he grabbed a handful of chips. "The delivery fee is twenty percent of the snacks. It's in the contract."

I laughed.

"The chips made a bit of a mess here." I brushed his cheek.

"Phi baby?" His voice now low.

"Here," I brushed his other cheek. And he took my hand and licked it while staring at me. I froze. Wh...? My stomach had butterflies. I don't know how to react.

"I was just removing some of the fluff from the chips." He said. And I swallowed.

"You always listen to Senior oat songs."

"Not all. I just like deep house like afro music. Songs like Lengoma, Amanxeba. Like these are the type of songs I'll play in my car one day."

"When you're an attorney. I'll have an educated wife here moss."

I laughed. "Yeah."

I took another bit from my chips. "Which other songs of you listen to?"

"Kwesta songs, I love that guys music."

"Untswempu, untswempu la ngqawa. His music hits all the way."

"Ngiyazfela ngawe." He mimicked the song in a funny way. I laughed.

"I actually have the song." I change the aux to my phone and we played the song and sang together.

"Ngiyazfela ngawe....uyazi ukhuthi ngayathanda bae..."

We sat there for a while, my head draped ok his shoulder, vibing to the music, the bass of the Afro-soul tracks acting as a heartbeat for the night. We talked about nothing and everything, sharing chocolate and humming along to the melodies.

"This feels good, peaceful." He kisses my temple. I've been stressed and you just brought peace," Zuko admitted. "This job I'm doing... it's a lot."

"What is it exactly that you do?" I asked.

He blinked, looking momentarily caught off guard, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face before he smoothed it over. "I manage a club," he said. I simply nodded, accepting the answer.

Then, he leaned in and kissed me.

"So..how was it for you?" he whispered against my lips, his thumb grazing my jawline. "The phone call. Our... session."

My cheeks went up in flames. I looked down, unable to meet his gaze. Yesterday, I'd never done anything like that before.

"I... it was new," I managed to whisper.

"You were perfect," he murmured, sensing my hesitation and pulling me closer. He kissed me again. "Wanna try again?"

"Mhh?" He kissed me

The kiss deepened, turning from a question into a demand, every sensation felt amplified, like my skin had been tuned to a higher frequency. When his tongue flicked against mine, a jolt of electricity shot straight to my core, making my toes curl against the floor.

His hands, rough and warm, slid from my waist to the small of my back, pulling me flush against him. I let out a soft moan into his mouth.

His palms were calloused, sending sparks across my skin wherever they wandered. When he cupped my face, I felt cherished; when he gripped my hips, I felt wanted in a way that made my head spin.

Part of me was terrified of the continuing. He moved his kisses to my neck, biting gently at the sensitive cord there. I arched my back, my fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. The heat between us was a physical thing, a thick tension that made my muscles feel like liquid. I was hovering on the edge of a precipice, looking down into the unknown of what it meant to really belong to someone, and for the first time, I wasn't afraid to fall.

•••••

The afternoon sun was baking the red-brick pavement of the campus walk as I trudged toward res. My backpack felt like it was filled with lead, and all I could think about was the iced coffee I was going to make the second I got back to my room.

I had my headphones on, losing myself in a playlist, when the low, rhythmic purr of an engine made me glance over my shoulder. A sleek, midnight-blue BMW was crawling alongside me, its window tinted dark. It came to a smooth halt right on the curb, blocking my path.

I frowned, pulling my headphones down around my neck. Great, I thought.

The driver's side door opened, and a girl stepped out. Amanda. She adjusted her sunglasses. My stomach did a slow, uneasy roll.

"Omphile, right?" she asked, her voice clear and cool.

I stood my ground, shifting my heavy bag on my shoulder. "Yeah. That's me. Do I know you?"

She gave a small, rehearsed smile that didn't reach her eyes. "You don't. But I feel like I know a lot about you. Zuko talks... well, he doesn't talk much, but he's not exactly quiet about his life." She leaned against the door of the BMW, crossing her arms. "I'm Amanda. And I figured it was time we had a little woman-to-woman chat."

I felt a spike of defensiveness. "A chat? About what? "

Amanda let out a dry, dismissive laugh. " Look, Omphile, I'm not here to start a scene or get dramatic. I'm just here to save you a bit of heartache. You seem like a sweet girl. You're the type who probably likes quiet nights in and long study sessions."

"What's your point, Amanda?" I stepped closer, my heart thumping against my ribs.

"My point is that Zuko isn't the guy you think he is," she said, her voice dropping. "He's a thrill-seeker. He's the kind of guy who gets bored the second things become predictable. Girls like you? You're trying to build a future, and he's just trying to keep the adrenaline going. He's not a fit for you. He's exhausting."

I scoffed, shaking my head. "You don't know anything about our relationship. You think because you knew him once that you get to decide who he's compatible with? He's nothing but sweet to me."

"Sweet?" She laughed again, a sound devoid of humor. "That's exactly what he does. He's a chameleon, Omphile. He fits the mold of whatever girl is currently standing in front of him. But I know him better than you ever will. I know the side of him he hides when he's busy playing the devoted boyfriend. I can handle him. I understand his chaos. You? ." She laughed.

I straightened my back, looking her dead in the eye. I didn't want to show her how much her words were piercing me. "You're acting like he's a project to be managed, not a person. If he's so 'chaotic' and you're so perfect for that, why aren't you together?"

The smile vanished from her face. Her expression hardened, looking sharper, hungrier. "Because I don't need a man to feel stable. But you clearly do. Just take the warning. Walk away before you get too deep, because when he inevitably leaves you feeling like a mess, don't say I didn't warn you."

She pushed off the car door, opening it and sliding back into the driver's seat. And sped away.