I jump back off the bed, crossing my arms while I walk up to Carter. “I’m not hungry when I’m mad.”
“Mad about what?” he asks with an amused expression.
“You locked me in the bedroom all day,” I say, throwing my hands up. “What am I supposed to do here?”
“Read a book or something,” he offers up lamely.
I laugh, but I’m not amused. “Please don’t start with me today. Just don’t. I don’t want to be locked up like this. I never was before, and I’ve lived this long already.”
He nods, seeming genuinely concerned about my plight. He rubs a thumb over his chin, scratching at the pointy stubble that protrudes from his skin. “Things have changed, Honey. It’s gotten worse.”
“The world is a rotten place. I’m well aware of that,” I reply.
“Yes, but I have plenty of reason to believe that someone is trying to tear down this mafia union. Your father’s death probably wasn’t a one-off thing. More people have died,” he explains, his voice deep and solemn in his throat.
“My father and George,” I say, squinting my eyes at him. “Who else?”
“Dean,” he replies. “He’s in charge of our money laundering operations. Someone stabbed him to death today at the noodle joint.”
“Fuck,” I mutter. “What the hell is going on?”
“Someone doesn’t like us. That’s become very clear,” he says. “But that’s not all. Someone also tried to kill me today.”
“What?” I blurt, my heart skipping a beat. I shouldn’t care this much, but his words make my stomach churn.
“Yeah,” he says, nodding his head again. “Someone ran up on me in the street. Turns out, someone put a bounty on my head.”
“Who?” I ask, as though I could put a stop to this all by myself. I feel defensive about Carter, protective even. I can’t imagine losing him like I lost my father.
“All I know is the man who tried to kill me mentioned an African fellow who-”
“African?” I blurt. “Sorry, but do mean South African?”
He shrugs. “I’m not really sure where he’s from, to be honest.”
“Yeah, but African, right?”
Carter gives me a puzzled look.
I sigh. “My father was killed by a man named Bheka in South Africa. He was the leader of the Valangana Freedom Fighters, although I think that was just a cover for something else since there’s no reason why they would’ve killed him otherwise.”
Carter narrows his eyes. “And you think Bheka is behind this?”
“Could be, I mean, it would make sense,” I reply.
“I think I need to pay him a visit,” Carter says, looking off into the distance.
“And I’m coming with you,” I say, feeling my heart double in speed at the thought of seeing Bheka in person again. Even if he isn’t behind all of this, I’ll kill him just the same.
“Honey, I really don’t think it’s a good idea for you to come,” Carter says.
“And why not? I’m the only person that survived the last time. I crawled through the fucking Kalahari Desert on my hands and knees to get to safety. You don’t think I can handle myself?” I argue.
He pauses, holds up a finger, then puts it down, still silent.
“Well?” I ask, planting my hands on my hips.
“Well, what? I don’t even know what we’re going to do yet. I have to make plans.”
“We have to make plans,” I correct him. “I’m the only one who knows jack-shit about the compound anyway.”
Carter sighs. “Alright, you have a point there.”
“Of course I do,” I reply. “I always do.”
He laughs. “Let’s not get carried away now.”
I smile, feeling slightly better, knowing that I finally have some leverage. I’m not going to be locked up in this room forever, and this time around, I’m bringing my camera. Nobody gets to say no to me anymore.
Chapter Fifteen
Honey
Henry sits beside me on the private jet destined for South Africa, while Carter sits across from me, reading a book with his usual serious frown. I wonder how he can concentrate on reading when we’re heading out to put a bullet through Bheka’s head. Carter wants to talk with him, but I want him dead.
We’re not going directly to the desert region, but landing a few countries over so that our paper trail doesn’t put us anywhere close to Bheka’s compound. After that, we’ll jump in a van and drive down to the Kalahari Desert to lure Bheka out into the open. Apparently, Carter has a plan, though he hasn’t told me all the details just yet. I just have to trust him.
I look out of the window at the clouds beneath us. They’re fluffy and white, like giant marshmallows floating through the air. I’ve been on plenty of planes, but I still love to look outside at the world from such great heights. The square patches of farmland look like a quilt woven into the earth from the air.
There are around twenty people on the plane with Carter and me. Most of them are top trained foot soldiers, but we also have Amy and Henry with us, people that Carter wants far away from the city that our conjoined mafia is based in. We can’t risk any more losses of essential leadership.
Carter puts his book down suddenly, staring at me until I turn my head toward him.
“What’s up?” I ask, a little perturbed.
“You want some peanuts?” he asks, placing his large hands on the armrests of his seat.
“Um, I guess so,” I reply.
“Peanuts and coke are a classic. I always have them when I fly.”
I laugh. “You’re cute sometimes.”
“I’m cute all of the time,” he replies, standing up. “Anyone else want something?”
Henry shakes his head, and Amy doesn’t even bother to respond. She has her earbuds shoved far into her ears to block out the sound of conversation. She comes off as a major introvert, but she’s chill. I don’t have any issue with her, and it’s nice to finally have another woman with us on a mission.
“Honey, do you want to join me?” Carter asks, stepping into the aisle.
I nod, springing up from my
