Beneath The Glitter

'I didn't expect you to be this sweet, especially considering the circumstances under which we met'.

Her eyes were locked on his, in this intentional way that made it look like he was the only thing called food in the world, and would stop at nothing to devour him, given the chance.

His reply heightened whatever it was that caused her to tell him that.

'There is more sweetness where that came from.'

Her breathing shot up, and her chest heaved slightly forward. Hot air escaped her slightly open mouth as the sound of his deep baritone hit her ears. He had this way of talking in very short sentences that were heavy with meaning and intention. Even though she fought it with everything in her, the denying that she wanted him ebbed with every passing encounter she had with him. To make matters worse, he leaned close to her.

She accented, needing him. She was encouraged by the whiff of strawberry mouthwash he was reeking of, and there was some light touch of aftershave that did wonders to her nostrils. Did he come ready for her?

She closed her eyes. She expected some brush of the lips, but it came at a place she didn't expect.

It landed on her forehead.

She was about to open her eyes in protest and disappointment, but got consoled. The brushing progressed downwards. It went past the curve of her nose, setting fire to her nerves. Each cell in her body stood at attention, waiting to take orders and move whichever way that touch moved. His skin ever so soft, the journey over her face ever so deft, he experienced her face in ways she would give anything to get, over and again.

Her expectations were about to be met.

Her upper lip danced and throbbed with excitement as the cool breath of air swished dangerously in and around its curved length. Her hands started the upward journey with the aim of pulling his neck close.

There was a loud, crackling cough.

She jumped up with a start, and hissed loudly, cursing under her breath. How could this have been a dream?

There was another cough. It came again and again. It increased in intensity and depth as each one came.

It was her father.

Her two brothers were nowhere to be found, and she saw the futility in shouting their names. She thought she heard an elderly female voice somewhere close, but realized it was the neighbor who always came to borrowing one thing or the other. Today was not that day, and God help her to step foot at their door. Where did their mother go to? She raced to her father's room.

She found him on the bed, with lost eyes staring unseeingly far in front of him. The bursts of the cough had receded a little, but it appeared like he was losing strength by the minute. Now and again his body would be racked by a forced bout of sapping cough, but there was space for him to be coherent in speech, and it was an improvement from the horror they had been through, weeks before.

Without much ado, she leapt for the plastic bag which housed his medications. Water appeared from anywhere, but the can was empty. It dropped from her hand, along with a tear. There was a sniffle, and the story was clear.

He had run out of medication.

"Cindy.......'

'No, Daddy, let me go get it for you...'

'Come here, girl...''

'No.... give me just one second...'

'Come here!'

This was the first time in months she had heard him so stern and clear, and she wondered what it took him to sound this way, given the way he was looking.

'I have tried my best to raise the three of you, but it appears that things have not gone the way I expected it to go. I have borrowed two hundred thousand shillings from Dars, and my inability to pay up is eating me up...'

It was as if a heavy rock hit her on the chest.

Dars!

The most dreaded drug lord in Calodo city, Dars was as ruthless as they come. He had his hands in almost every dirty pie in the book, and was unapologetic about it. He was into high-end staking in sports, ran a prostitution ring, had chains of clubs and casinos, was into trafficking of girls for high net-worth individuals, and all that came with it. He was mean, ruthless and uncontrollable.

But, how did her father get mixed up with a character like Dars? Was that the reason he always insisted she bought his favourite brand of cigarette from his club nearby? What business brought the both of them together to the extent of borrowing such humongous sum from him? How did he expect to pay back, in his condition? Like the movement of lightning in the dark night, so many of such thoughts crisscrossed her mind at the mention of his name.

As if her father read her thoughts, with his eyes fixed on her, he said:

'I have tried all I can, and I have not been able to raise the money to pay him back, and so........'

'You have decided to give Cindy to me.'

All eyes went to the figure who had appeared at the bedroom door, and who had completed the sentence. It did not matter if the sentence had been completed. All that mattered was the personality who stood by that door, pistol in hand, with at least four tall, barrel-chested thugs behind him, waiting for the next order. Whatever he said, was what mattered.