I found myself intently studying her face, wondering If she was lying to me or telling me the truth. I read into every crease that marred her flawless face, every move her bruised lips made. I also feverishly hoped that she was lying to my face. If she wasn't, the situation was something that was out of my depths. If the recent events were anything to go by, then getting even further involved could only end in a catastrophe. It wasn't even the potential danger that gave me a pause. No, it was the way my heart rate picked up in excitement. Gone was my terrified inner child and in its place was the reckless woman who was determined to live fast and die young. I was growing more and more fearful of the things that gave me life.
I let her speak despite everything, if for no other reason other than, it was Monica. My heart had seemingly missed the memo about her treachery, instead the world slowed down every time I looked at her. Her lips were quivering again, tears pooled in her eyes threatening to fall. While my heart bleed for her, my mind could not allow me to forget that this was the same girl that had stood up to gun wielding psychopaths and emerged fairly unscathed. She was clearly as strong as I wished I was and yet I had seen her cry more times than I was comfortable with. Her tears, then, felt like a ploy to weaken my resolve.
She then slowly leaned her head on my shoulders. Blood began to drain to nether regions as her deliciously sweet scent cocooned me. Whatever reasons I had to stay from her was erased from my brain, probably due to low blood supply. She sniffled as she snuggled deeper bringing our bodies closer. My hand out of their volition wrapped themselves around the simpering lier. I mean why else would I be comforting the very woman who abandoned me shattering my barely functional heart into smithereens. She reciprocated by wrapping her arms around me pulling us even closer. The gesture scrambled whatever ounce of pride I had as I parted my legs to create room for her before gathering her in my arms. The way she nuzzled into my neck erased any doubts I previously had. I was sure of it now, she was definitely playing me. I could feel it in the way she pulled me closer, in the way her fingers curled into my T-shirt. She knew that this would be the outcome, she knew me well enough to play on the few emotions that could control me. I let her play on. If I was a game to her then I pray she never got bored.
"I used to be a special agent in the army" her words did not make as much an impact as her accent did.
I was not sure if she was aware that her accent had drastically changed from Kenyan to American, or maybe she was finally coming clean. However, I added another point to the ever growing list of red flags. Everything i knew about her including the way we talked was a lie. Once again my mind staggered under the weight of her reveals but my heart marvelled at how sexy she sounded with an American accent.
"Dont worry," she reassured as if that statement were enough to ease the avalanche of fears that was gaining momentum in my head.
"I was honorably discharged although there was no honor in it if you ask me. It was a play in which I lost but that was the past and nothing will come from dwelling on it." I had a million questions but I but my tongue not sure of what I would say.
"Money was tight so I made ends meet in my own way. One could say I fell in with the wrong crowd. I went from being a solider to being a mercenary. The pay was good and they fed you a lot less bullshit. Our boss gathered several 'honorably discharged' soldiers." She put air quotes around the words her distaste for said words clearly etched onto her face. "We formed an untouchable unit and never looked back."
Again it wasn't what she said, it was how she said her last words. The distant melancholic look that morphed her face into longing so fierce I could touch it. She did not cry, she did not break down. She took a small pause and shut her eyes. If I were not staring at her I would have missed that moment. She gathered herself emotionally and physically as she sat up straighter and opened her eyes her face melting into a neutral expression. She caught me staring and put on a pained smile in a poor attempt to ease my worry.
"Three years ago we got a job that involved betraying the country I had served" she had yet to slip back into a Kenyan accent and with her voice thick with hidden emotions her accent had somehow gotten thicker. It wasn't the black American accent but something more nasal, with more words being smoothed over rather than pronounced. I wonder if it's her real accent or it just another trick she had learnt. She took a deep breath in and cleared her throat before continuing.
" I did something terrible to people who had at one point given me a home. Some of the people who i had at one point called friends, died because of me. They had abandoned me when I needed them and kicked me out when I begged to stay. At that time I was so full of anger and resentment that the idea of getting paid while fucking with the people that had cast me aside felt like a gift from the universe."
I thought she would leave it at that, a story better left unfinished. It pained her to share this with me, i could see it in the shaky breaths and deep sighs that she punctuated her sentence with. It was apparent in the way she ran her fingers through her dreads and anxiously twisted her hands. It was hard for her to say all this and yet it was becoming clear that she wasn't sharing much. She was giving general details leaving out the parts that had cut her soul the most. I did not probe, she would tell me, if she ever wanted to.
"We got paid for the job and had to go underground for a while until things blew over. We all went to different continents and blended in. Playing Kenyan is not an easy thing to do. It took me a while to get the accent and the references right and when I was finally ready, I immersed my self in my new life and everything was great. The best thing was meeting you. I knew it wasn't going to last. I mean how could it? Not to mention how unfair it would have been to you. I, however, kept coming back, again and again until you were everything to me."
"Three years ago," she paused, turning so that she faced me and picked up my hands that had fallen off her and landed at my sides and held them gently in her hands. Her right thumb was bandaged and her left hand was thickly dressed. She ran her good thumb over my knuckles in a silent plea.
"Three years we were called in by our boss everything had gone quite and he figured we had enough cover for a quick job and then go back to our new identities. I was a twenty four hour job. A quick pick and drop arrangement that went wrong in every way in which it could. We fought for our lives while protecting our cargo for a week straight. Then we had to stay put until a safe space was found. There after we were forced to stay on with our cargo as protective detail. It was hectic and brutal and all I wanted to do was come home to you but when it was finaly time we ran into unforeseen interruptions. There were mercenaries who had been contracted to terminate our cargo. They were not going to rest until thier job was finished and my unit and I were the only ones who know where the cargo was. We tried losing then but they kept popping up all over the place. We even lost a member of our unit to them and yet they were still as resilient as ever. Last year we decided to strike back instead of cowering and hiding. We took out a good portion of thier numbers and it become personal. They were well funded and kept coming at us despite our best efforts. Three months ago we discovered thier base and took care of it. We believe whoever was left came here tonight so they are no longer a problem but we can't risk it."
"Open your account," she said dragging my attention back to my present reality and away from her fantasy like life. I did as she said out of curiosity more than anything and I could not stop my phone from falling because of what I saw. I picked up my phone counted and recounted the zeros behind the seven that was being displayed as my balance and each time it shook me. Nine a total of nine zeros behind the seven and the dollar sign had been assigned to the amount making it even more mind blowing.
"You cant stay here or go back to your job. I seriously waited until I was sure they could not find me and yet they did. Am so sorry I came to you first, I should have gone home but I missed you so much. All I wanted to do was to be held by you and now you have to uproot everything. I cant promise you peace but I can promise you, that i will provide you with the best money has to offer. To a long and easy life and a quick and painless death," she raised a phantom glass in the air and waited for my response I mirrored her gesture and we made a toast with imaginary glasses to an unknown future.
I want to say I hesitated. I would like to defend myself by saying I argued abiuyy how difficult it would be to be uprooted from my home and from everyone I knew. None of things would be true. Any reservation I had, about Monica's presence in my life, in light of the new information, flew out the window. She was offering me a way out. A clean slate away from my complicated life and stagnant career. I wasn't sure how my future would pan out. Hell, I wasn't even sure if there was a future to talk of. I consented to her proposal so fast it gave me whiplash. This was a great opportunity and not one I willing to pass up.