by Wylder, Tia
“Share this time,” he said.
I picked up the plate and smelled the food on it. It was slop, with no definitive flavor or texture. I ate it anyway, I needed my strength. One way or another, I was going to get out of here.
Chapter Three
Daiki
It was time to collect another debt. People seemed to think that I was some sucker bank handing out credit cards. They thought I wouldn’t come for my money, but they were wrong. I had to teach them a lesson, one resistance fighter, or inspired revolutionary at a time. They could wage their war, so long as they paid their debts.
The helicopter set down in a blistering hot field. Sand and debris scattered all around us as the engine cut out and the blades slowly came to a stop. The pilot leaped out of his seat and opened the back door. I climbed out and immediately broke a sweat. I hated the cold, but I hated this kind of heat even more.
Kraig stepped out beside me. I could still see pink on his knuckles from the blood. He would have them wet again with someone else’s very soon. I turned to the pilot.
“Wait here, we won’t be long.”
The pilot nodded. He had taken off his winter wear on the ride over, but I could see sweat emerging on his forehead. We walked across the flat terrain towards a military camp with tents set up across the landscape. Rusty jeeps drove in and out of the camp as men dressed in ragged uniforms passed by carrying my guns.
I even saw kids, no older than ten or eleven-years-old, patrolling the camp and armed to the teeth. It wasn’t right, but it also wasn’t my business. I only made house calls when the debt wasn’t paid. We made our way to the largest tent in the center of the camp. It wasn’t hard to find these types of people.
We walked into the tent with bravado, and the guards immediately put away their weapons when they saw who had arrived. I never gave these people my name, but in recent years they have taken to naming me themselves. I heard them whisper Vita when I passed by. It was Swahili for War. An appropriate name, given my trade.
At the back of the tent, a short African man sat dressed in ragged camouflage pants and a green vest. His skin glistened with sweat, no doubt because the interior of the tent was like a sauna.
“You have come for your debt?” he asked.
“Yes, I hear you have not paid.”
The man grinned as he stood to his feet. I could tell by the way he carried himself that he thought he could kill me and walk away a free man. So many had tried, enough that I invested in both gun and martial arts training myself. It had been a long time since I needed either, but I was up for some practice.
“I do not plan on paying!” he said, spitting on the dirt beside him.
“I thought as much.”
The guards in the tent all raised their rifles.
I applauded slowly. The smile faded from the man’s face.
“You do not fear death?” he asked.
“No my friend, because I am death.”
The man’s resolve cracked for a moment. I saw true fear in his eyes, but it didn’t stay.
“Kill him!”
I had my hand in the pocket of my slacks the entire time. In there I kept a failsafe that would disable all of my weapons. The easiest way to deal with a snake in the grass was to first take his teeth.
The two guards fired but nothing happened when they pulled the triggers. Kraig took the right, and I the left. I ducked down and hit the muscular guard with a strike that knocked him out cold. He fell to the ground. I spun around as Kraig tore the rifle out of the other guard’s hands.
He turned the gun around and cracked it against the guard’s skull. He went to hit him again, but I stopped him.
“Enough, Kraig, save your strength for the main course,” I said.
Kraig stood up and nodded. He dropped the gun onto the ground and we both turned to the man at the back of the tent. He was cowering in fear, mumbling, and begging for his life.
“I’ve disabled every gun in your entire army. If you want them back on, you’ll give me my money.”
The man dropped to his knees and pleaded with me as if I were some sort of merciful god.
“Please, I have no money! We need these weapons, for our cause is righteous!”
I couldn’t help but start laughing. I looked to Kraig who cracked a smile.
“Do you hear that, Kraig? His cause is righteous! Oh, if I had a dollar for every time I heard that, I would have my fucking money!”
I swung out with an open palm and back handed the man. He fell backward onto the dirt and covered his face.
“Get him up,” I said.
Kraig grabbed the small man by his shoulders and pulled him to his feet.
“Now listen, you’re going to pay with your money, or you’re going to pay with your life. It’s your choice.”
“I have women, big beautiful women! You take one, no cost! They are young, supple, she will treat you like a king!”
I had never been offered a woman before, this was new. I mulled it over for a moment, if only for the concept of being treated like I deserved. No, I wouldn’t stoop to human trafficking, nor would I cheat on my wife. I was an arms dealer, yes, but I wasn’t a monster.
“You have two weeks to come up with my money. After that I’m coming back, and my face will be the last thing you see.”
Kraig and I left as the man begged for me to take his offer. I had to admit, it sounded tempting, but I only dealt in currency I could count. I wasn’t about to put a price on someone’s life.
Chapter Four
Kamaria
I didn’t know how long they kept me down there. Weeks? Months? It felt like years. I tried counting based on the meals they brought us, but I didn’t know if they brought meals three times a day, or once, or merely when they felt like it. All I knew is that I was slowly losing my mind. Every night I had nightmares.
“Are you going to finish your bread?” a voice called out.
I wouldn’t have called it bread, it was more like a rock that you could eat if you tried really hard. My stomach rumbled, begged me to try, but I didn’t want it.
“No, take it,” I said.
I threw it in the direction of the voice. It landed with a loud thud on the other side of the room. I heard a chain rattle and a strained noise.
“Damnit, I can’t reach it!”
“Not my problem,” I said.
They didn’t talk to me much after that. I think we all hated each other, despite the fact that we hadn’t ever met prior to this room. It was like all of us just wanted someone to blame.
The door swung open with a loud groan and the silhouette of a man stood in the center for a moment.
“I’m coming in there,” he said, “No sudden movements.”
He lumbered through the doorway and walked toward me. I vaguely heard the man calling to me as he stood over me. I felt his hands reached down and grab the shackle around my ankle.
The chain was off and he pulled me up. As I walked out of the room, I had to shut my eyes against the light. It felt like I was staring directly into the sun. They pulled a bag over my head that smelled like dirt and sweat. One of the men took me by the arm and led me through hall after hall until we emerged into the scorching sun. I felt the heat on my skin as they pushed me into the backseat of a jeep.
The engine grumbled as the car bounced across the uneven landscape. Dirt roads stretched out in every direction, there was no such thing as a smooth ride out here. We drove for a long time before the car stopped. They pulled me out and we walked towards the sound of plane engines. They led me up a ramp and into a cool and air-conditioned environment. I sat down in a thick and comfortable seat as they pulled the bag off of my head. Light flooded my sight. My eyes screamed in pain as I shut them tight. I briefly saw the empty seats around me as I tried to slowly open my eyes and catch a glimpse at what surrounded me. The plane started to move as I tried to move my hands and realized they were handcuffed to the seat.
I managed to regain my sight, despi
te the glowing lights above me. In front of me, a small screen was playing a movie. It showcased men in a prison, but I didn’t pay attention to it at first. It reminded me of my own story. Of being imprisoned and forced to do what you must to survive. However, I had little else to do or look at during the flight, so I waited and watched the movie.
I didn’t have sound, but that almost made it better. I imagined what they were saying and I tried to follow along. When they brought me food, it was better than I had expected. The food was delicious and when I was finished, a woman in a business suit came over and sat on the seat across the aisle from me. She had shoulder length black hair and a thinly framed body.
“State your name, please,” she said, extending a recorder.
“Kamaria Ife,” I said.
“Good, now I must brief you on the relationship you’re about to enter into,” she said.
“Relationship? What are you talking about?”
The woman ignored my question and looked down to a clipboard in her hand.
“Your new husband’s name is Daiki Uchida. He’s an Asian billionaire with powerful ties in both the corporate world, and various resistance movements and military groups in Africa, the Middle East, and in Russia. All you need to do is make him fall in love with you. Do you understand?”
Falling in love was the easy part, it was the fear of losing someone else I loved that scared me the most.
“Why am I being taken to him? Did he choose me?”
The woman sighed and placed her hand on mine. It was the first sign of compassion she had shown since our conversation started.
“Oh no, he didn’t choose you, but he’ll like you all the same. Trust me, you’re his type,” she said.
“How do you know so much about him?” I asked, “Do you work for him?”
She laughed. “No honey, I’m his wife!”
I felt like I had been punched in the stomach.
“He’s married? Then why do you want me to take him from you?” I asked.
She set down the clipboard as her eyes wandered around the room.
“Things are different where I come from, Kamaria. Where I’m from, money and power is far more important than love. I loved my husband once, but that was a long time ago. It’s time we parted ways, but he doesn’t see that. I need our divorce to be mutual, otherwise I can’t take half his fortune when I leave. Do you understand?”
I nodded, even though I didn’t understand in the slightest.
“Good, so what’s your job?”
“Make him fall in love with me.”
“Very good. Can I get you anything before we land?”
I shook my head.
“Great. Thanks for doing this. I know you didn’t have a choice in the matter, but I appreciate your help all the same.”
I didn’t like the way any of this felt, but anything was better than being locked in that room. I wasn’t sure if I could love again, but I tried to keep an open mind as the plane landed. Soon it would be time to meet my new husband
Chapter Five
Daiki
Traveling the world is overrated. Every time I came back from another collection trip, I was exhausted both mentally and physically. I wanted only to sit and drink, nothing more. There was a brief moment when I came back, the moment when I opened the door and I waited for the hollow greeting from my wife. When she wasn’t home, I could relax instead of answering twenty questions or more about where I had been.
This time she wasn’t home, thankfully. I closed the door to the penthouse suite and hung my coat on the hanger beside the door. Several steps in, and the fatigue hit me like a gushing wave. I skipped the kitchen entirely, despite my growling stomach, and walked straight to the liquor cabinet against the left wall.
Half empty bottles littered the surface, the extremely expensive bottles were placed at the bottom of the cabinet, to remove temptation. Or at least, that was the concept. It didn’t stop me from taking them out whenever I felt like it. I poured a bottle of aged scotch. It was a gift from our wedding day. Back then, when we were in love, we talked about keeping it sealed until our twenty-fifth anniversary, but that ended about three years into our marriage.
I poured the glass until it was almost full and walked into the living room. The leather sofa stretched out across from a massive television. I picked up the remote and turned it on. Apparently my wife, Ayumi, had been watching it last since the channel was on the news. As someone who managed political campaigns, she was always buried in the news.
I took a swig of the scotch and relished in the burning sensation. As I set it down, I heard a knock on the door. It was very rare that we had visitors here, and I was still riding high on adrenaline from the day’s events. I stood up and walked to the door. In the umbrella holder beside me was a pump-action shotgun with the barrel facing down. I always kept it loaded and by the door in case I needed it.
I turned the lock and pulled the door open slowly. A black woman stood in the doorway. She was wearing a sundress and her hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She had striking eyes and a curvy body with ample breasts beneath the dress. She was beautiful, no doubt, but why was she here?
“I’m sorry, I believe you have the wrong suite,” I said.
“Baako sent me,” she said, “To pay his debt.”
I ran a hand through my hair and sighed.
“I told him, I don’t deal in people, just money. I’m sorry, you’ll have to go back.”
“I can’t go back! They kept me locked in a room with no light and very little food. If you send me back, they will put me back in there!” she shouted.
I didn’t want her causing a scene so I waved her inside.
“Fine, fine, just come in,” I said.
I closed the door behind her and motioned to the living room.
“Please, sit down.”
I walked back to the leather couch and grabbed my drink before sitting down and taking in everything. I finished the scotch in a single gulp and set the glass down as my throat burned from the sudden influx of the fiery liquid. I looked over and noticed the woman was still standing.
“Why aren’t you sitting?” I asked.
She pointed to the empty glass.
“Would you like another?”
My eyes went from the glass and back to her. I couldn’t think of a single time my wife offered to make me a drink.
“Uh, yes, that would be great. The scotch that’s out will suffice.”
She picked up the glass and walked out of the room. Without realizing it, I found myself watching the way her hips moved beneath the flowing dress she was wearing. I wanted to know what she looked like beneath that dress.
When she came back with the drink, she sat down beside me as I took another long sip. The chill that ran down my spine told me it was starting to take effect.
“You look tense, would you like a back massage?” she asked.
Now this was getting too good to be true. Ayumi had perhaps once, in a different lifetime, given me a back rub, but even that was pushing it. I turned to the side. She placed her hands against the muscles around my neck and shoulders and went to work expertly massaging them. She dug deep and then eased up in perfect rhythm. I felt the tension melting off of me with each movement of her hands.
“Good?” she asked.
“Perfect.”
She continued rubbing and it was then that I realized I didn’t even know her name yet.
“My apologies for not asking sooner, but what’s your name?”
“I am Kamaria,” she said.
“Very nice to meet you, Kamaria, I’m Daiki, and the massage is phenomenal.”
She worked her way down my shoulders and massaged the inner muscles on my back. The pain evaporated as the scotch continued to do its work. It had been a long time since I’d experienced such a perfect moment.
It was shattered when I heard the lock turning on the door. Ayumi was home, this was bad. We both stood up and I started gulping down the scotch ag
ain.
I set the empty glass down and clenched my jaw as the liquid scorched the inside of my mouth.
“That’s my wife,” I said.
“What should I do?”
“No point in hiding, just stay there and leave the talking to me, I’ll come up with something.”
I heard Ayumi’s keys clatter against the bowl she used for storing them beside the door.
“Daiki, are you here?” she asked.
“Yes.”
I waited for her disappointed sigh, but she restrained herself this time. We hated being in each other’s company, but we both knew that if I divorced her, she would take half of my wealth. If she divorced me without any grounds for court, she walked away empty-handed. Our marriage was one long stalemate.
Ayumi walked into the room dressed in a thin blouse and a grey skirt. Her slender legs had once been a favorite feature of mine, along with her supple breasts and spicy personality, but those things were long overshadowed by our crumbling marriage.
She stopped and stared at the two of us.
“Who is this?” she asked, gesturing to Kamaria.
“This is Kamaria, she’s here for us,” I said.
Ayumi lowered her eyes. “Us?”
Either this was going to work flawlessly, or it would be a disaster, either way she couldn’t say I cheated on her in court.
“Yeah, I know things have been rocky between us, and I can’t remember the last time we had sex, so I thought I would spice things up a bit.”
Ayumi shook her head.
“Daiki, buying lingerie and bondage gear is spicing things up. Bringing a mail order bride home for your little ménage a trois fantasy is another thing entirely.”
“She’s not a mail order bride, Ayumi, and before you shoot me down, can you at least give this a chance? She’s come a long way.”
Ayumi smirked. “Yeah, I’ll bet she has.”
I felt my blood boiling, but I had to keep this civil. At the very least, I couldn’t kick Kamaria out onto the street.
