Golden Burn (Songs of Crime #1)

13. Etta

13

Etta

‘Oh, What A World’ - Kacey Musgraves

“ W here are we actually landing?” I ask Dom, chuckling a little as I watch Ford remove his makeup aggressively.

“Zambia.”

The seatbelt falls from my hands. “What?”

“Never heard of it?”

I stutter, my heart tripping over itself. “Oh my God! We’re landing in Africa?”

Dom smiles, pleased by my outburst. “Yes. We have connections with one of the safari retreats.” I collapse into my seat, lost for words.

I’m going to be staying in a retreat in the middle of the wild landscapes of Africa . Sleeping on the same planes of endless earth as the thousands of species of animals that I have always dreamed of seeing in person in their natural habitat. Elephants, lions, giraffes, hyenas, rhinoceros, water buffalo, hippos, crowned eagles, zebras, and monkeys.

A tinkling ball of joy is spinning in my chest. My excitement is overwhelming. I really hope I’ll be allowed to go on a safari, to speak to the wildlife conservationists, biologists and zoologists. To see and touch and hear all the glorious animals and to learn more about their habits, and take a peek at some of the data surrounding their survival.

My enthusiasm is stalled momentarily as a shadow passes over my shoulder. Odin steps into the space opposite me and bends his body till he’s sitting in the chair. It’s infuriating how well designed he is. God played a cruel joke when he crafted Odin with a sleek body I’d die to get lost in, and a frozen heart that I’d never want to hold.

“Keeping an eye on me?” I ask.

“Just making sure you don’t launch yourself out the window.” His voice is rough, hardened.

“If I ever do, it’s with a parachute and an instructor. But if you want to give it a try, be my guest.”

He grunts, ignoring me as he buckles his seatbelt. I do the same, turning away so that I can watch the sprawling green land, interspersed with bodies of water that sprout in several directions like a spiderweb. As we get closer and closer, my eyes start to water. I furiously rub them dry, not wanting to give Odin the satisfaction that I might be a little bit happy with my current predicament.

If only my mom were here. If only she was sitting at home scrolling through her phone, waiting for me to call. But that’s the thing with grief. The one person you miss is always the one person you want to talk to. Never anyone else. And it never goes away.

The plane lands, bumping and screeching to a stop that has my body lurching. Ford is up first, buttoning his suit jacket, the fierce and well-trained bodyguard back in place. Gone is the man who laughed as I applied his mascara, winking at his husband with a fire smoldering in his eyes.

It’s surprisingly comforting to know he feels safe to act like that with me. Like I’m not a stranger, but a person with the potential to be more. A friend. Maybe he was just trying to be a distraction. Maybe he was generally interested and happy to spend time with me. I’ll never know. It’s too tiring to try to sort through three men’s motivations. My fiancé is my priority right now.

Odin gestures for me to get up. “What about Juniper?”

“She’s staying with the pilot for a little while.” I open my mouth to argue. “She can’t come with us.”

I peer over at Juni, her golden fur, her chocolate eyes. She starts to pant, and I realize that Odin’s right. She’s not safe running around the African jungle.

“Okay.” I turn around and give Juniper a fierce hug. Her throat gurgles as I squeeze her tight. “I’ll see you soon. Be a good girl.” I press the kisses all over her face and move away before I decide to unhook her collar, shove her over my shoulder and run.

My legs are wobbly as I trudge down the carpeted aisle, thanking the cabin crew and the pilot as I exit out the door and onto the steel steps. The airport is tiny. With only a single long building for both arrivals and departures, surrounded by dirt roads and clumps of lush green vegetation. It seems quiet, yet I can sense the energy buzzing.

The fresh, vibrant air brings fresh tears. I inhale, closing my eyes as the sun shines and warms my face. I’m here. I’m actually in the once place I thought I might never get to be. It’s not comparable to say I dreamed of this. I didn’t just dream. I ached and worried and begged that I might be on this continent someday. And even with the weight of my past misdeeds and future problems pressing on my shoulders, I want to take every second to appreciate this. To feel grateful even though the parameters of my visit are murkier than the bottom of the rivers I saw from the sky.

A familiar presence steps up behind me, hovering. “Is there a problem?” Odin asks, his voice nowhere near as harsh as I expected.

“No, no. Sorry. I’m just… overwhelmed.” Blinking, I take my time descending the steps. Ford waits for me, sunglasses in place, face rigid. Formidable.

“Pretty fucking cool, huh?” he mutters as I reach the last step, his hand extended to pass me my own pair of sunglasses. I smile, take them from him, and place them on my face.

“It’s pretty fucking cool.”

Dom strides past and leads us to a pair of black Range Rovers. Ford and Odin stay at my back, guarding each of my shoulders. It’s over-bearing but doesn’t make me feel like a prisoner. More like a treasure that needs protecting.

A man and a woman, both with rich black skin and warm smiles, wait for us near the closest car. The woman steps forward first, her braided hair piled on top of her head in an intricate knot. She extends her hand to Dom. “Welcome, Mr. Bartolo, it’s a pleasure to have you back.” Her accent is distinctly British, startling me. But she exudes warmth and charm, and I can tell she’s intelligent and perceptive.

“Thank you, Martise. We appreciate the last-minute lodging.”

“Of course, of course, anything for you,” she says, then her attention moves to me and my two foreboding bodyguards. “You must be Dr. Etta Lewis; we are so excited to have you staying with us.”

The smile that spreads across my face is completely genuine. “Thank you for having me. ”

“The pleasure is all ours. I hope you’re feeling energized. I have a packed itinerary ready for you.”

Oh Jesus. I’m going to cry again. My stunned silence is penetrated by Odin stepping forward with his hand outstretched. “Martise, you’re as splendid as always.”

Martise chuckles, ignores his hand, and places a kiss on his cheek. If I wasn’t already infatuated with this woman and engaged to the man she’s touching, I might have been more ruffled by the teasing exchange.

Ignoring the unnecessary emotion, I pin my focus on the man who comes forward to shake our hands. His smile is joyful, and his voice is smooth with a Zambian lilt. “I’m Omandi. I’ll be in charge of your stay.”

“Hi, I’m Etta,” I say, introducing myself and shaking his warm hand.

Once all the introductions have been made, Omandi gestures to the cars and says, “Let’s get you all comfortable, eh?”

I’m ushered into the backseat. As I’m buckling up my seat belt, the door to my right opens and a heavy body slides in. Odin makes himself comfortable next to me.

It throws me off balance, seeing him with them with sunglasses on. It’s a reminder of what he was wearing when I first met him in the clinic, and how quickly I was intrigued and infatuated with his presence. Eager to know him even before he had said a word.

I shoo the thoughts from my mind.

“Do you own the retreat here?” I ask. The space is infinitely smaller with him so close to me. The gap between us is virtually non-existent.

“Not this one,” he replies as he clips his seat belt.

Martise hops into the driver’s seat. “It belongs to my family,” she says. “But Mr. Bolt has been instrumental to its success.”

“Oh?”

Odin remains motionless, but Martise takes no notice. Or maybe she is used to his aloof behavior. I watch in the rearview mirror as her face lights up. “Yes. My father moved to Liverpool when he was young and eventually opened his own restaurant in a building he rented from Mr. Bolt’s father, Allistair. Odin and I were around the same age and used to play together whenever Allistair came for dinner.” My attention flicks between the two of them, wondering if there is more to that story than is being let on. Maybe more to their relationship beyond being similar ages. Martise continues, “My father’s brother owned the retreat you will be staying at, and I always knew I would one day take over from him. Unfortunately, that day came too soon, as my uncle passed away before I had finished my studies and earned enough to move to Zambia. By then, Odin had split from Allistair and built his own company. He heard from my father what had happened and offered to keep the retreat running until I was ready. Ever since, he has been a generous benefactor and a wonderful friend.”

I have to admit, it’s not what I expected to hear. And I’m uncomfortable with how quickly it changes my perspective of Odin. I shouldn’t feel anything but blind resentment toward the man. But to know he has kindness underneath his metal exterior makes my stomach queasy.

He showed kindness when he didn’t kill that boy.

That was not kindness, that was basic human decency.

Nodding, I peer out the window and watch as Martise maneuvers the car onto a dirt road, bordered by dense but low standing trees. I’m half hoping a wild animal will come stampeding out and greet me.

My cheek tingles, alerting me to Odin’s gaze on the side of my face. It’s different from when Ford was watching me on the plane. It’s sizzling and heavy. Assessing. I can almost hear the gears in his head turning, turning. His increased interest in me is completely unwanted. But I can’t ignore the buzz that hums underneath my clothes as he watches me.

Maybe I was wrong to consider myself the helpless prey in this circumstance. Because Odin’s assessment of me is similar to that of an animal at the top of the food chain confronting a lower creature holding its ground and fighting back. Unnerved and unable to process the sight quickly enough.

I guess we’ll see.

“To the right is the Luangwa River, which is one of the four major rivers in Zambia,” Martise explains, pointing out the window. I’m on the left side of the car and haven’t got the best view. Odin leans his shoulders back against the headrest to give me better access. I don’t say anything. I don’t know how to categorize the gesture.

I tentatively place my hands on the middle seat and reach forward to get a better look. The river forest that borders it is startling green, lush and capable of hiding animals from human eyes. Beyond it I see the twinkle of the water, the muddy coloring. “A bloat of hippos were cruising up the river when I left to come and get you. They are very active this time of the year.”

“Really?” I lean a little more, keeping my mouth closed as Odin’s scent tries to find access to me.

The car hits a pothole and throws me off balance. I pitch forward, my hands reaching to catch myself on the closest thing available. And in this instance, it’s Odin’s thighs. My palms flatten against the muscle under his suit pants, my fingers dig in further to steady myself. It’s like grabbing a… a… Well, it’s like squeezing a chunk of warm, strong muscle.

Reeling back, I flatten against the door, an apology on the tip of my tongue. Odin looks at his thigh, then up to me. His stiff expression evaporates all my previous musings. He is once again the predator and I’m a defenseless lamb.

I guess we’ll see which one comes out on top.