Golden Burn (Songs of Crime #1)

16. Odin

16

Odin

‘Gravity’ by Matt Hansen

I ’ve reached my wit’s end as the afternoon draws near. We spot a pride of lions not long after our lunch break, and, of course, Harriet loses her mind. Watching her is unlike watching any human to ever exist. She’s a beacon of love for animals she can’t even touch. She oozes her sunshine infused venom all over the interior of the car and successfully latches onto me with her soft sighs and eager smiles.

Every time I look at her, I want to stick a needle in my eye. Mostly because I know I’m doing it too much. She’s just so… bright. But the way she said my name. Unflinching, comfortable, friendly.

I can’t stand it.

“Are they dogs?” Ford calls to Lance as he drives the car steadily alongside the river. He points to the edge of the water where a group of dogs, distinctly different from normal suburban pets due to their kaleidoscope of brown, orange, white and black coloring and their large, rounded ears.

Lance nods. “They are African wild dogs. Very dangerous.”

Harriet leans into my arm and says, “They can take down large prey by chasing them for hours until they collapse from exhaustion.”

“Yes,” Lance adds. “They eat them alive, too. Very nasty.” Ford is giddy at the thought. “Actually, the Luangwa Valley has the largest population of wild dogs—”

A splash and a screech of movement interrupts Lance. An enormous crocodile launches out of the water and latches onto a dog that has stepped too deep into the murky depths. I grab Harriet by the waist and pull her away from the edge of the car. She makes a distinguished ‘oomph’ when she falls into the seat.

“You don’t have to do that,” she chastises. “It’s perfectly safe.”

Safe, my ass.

It’s a fucking deathtrap at every turn out here.

Even with danger a few yards away, she still sits up eagerly, her binoculars ready. My system can’t take much more stress. I need this to be over immediately. My shoulders are stiff, and my muscles ache because I haven’t been able to relax. Not once.

“Fuck!” Ford exclaims as the dog’s scatter and the crocodile’s chosen prey wriggles, fighting between the jaws of the strongest bite force in the world. The drama and brutal unpredictability of the African wilderness are on full display. Startlingly gory and difficult to turn away from. Lance gets us a bit closer as the crocodile begins to drag the yelping dog, spinning into a death roll at the last second before submerging. The dogs on the bank pace and bark at the water, but none are brave enough to get near anymore. None of them would risk their own necks to save a friend who’s already dead .

Once the water is calm, all traces of violence gone, I give Lance a discrete signal, asking him to wrap it up. He nods and steers the car away from the river and back toward the camp. The clouds that hover overhead are fat and gray. It has a malevolence about it. Like the god of thunder and lightning overlooks these parts because it’s the most like his nature. Bold and rough and barbaric.

Harriet’s smooth voice filters into my ear over the rumble of the car engine.“If that were me, would you dive in and rescue me?”

I scoff. “I’d have to, wouldn’t I?”

“Because I’m a human being or because I’m your property?”

“Does it matter? I’d be going in, either way.” She’s not too happy with my answer. I’m not sure what else I was supposed to say.

By the time we make it back, the sunset has reached its end, the orange and pink strokes of light disappearing beyond the horizon.

Inside the cabin, we dump our things. Harriet heads straight for the tray of food left for us to graze before dinner arrives. She takes some slices of cheese and fruit over to the bed where she reclines against the pillows with her legs straight out.

“I’m taking a shower,” I inform her.

“Okay.”

“Don’t come in,” I warn in the same manner as she did the night we arrived.

She chuckles softly. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

The water from the showerhead is like ice as it runs down my skin. My gaze lingers on the feminine hair products, body moisturizers, even the razor lying on the shelf to my right. There’s a bruise deep inside me that pulses, reminding me it’s still there, ever present. I’m shown a memory of familiar things used by another woman. Different scents, different brands, but the bottles are all the same. They all get packed up when the person who uses them isn’t here anymore.

My fists clench. This is why I haven’t had a partner since Gen.

The pressure of keeping another person alive, of making sure the doors are always locked, the cameras always clear, that I know of every possible threat, is like a screwdriver that burrows into my brain, reminding me of the one time I didn’t do those things and suffered the consequences.

You can never keep her safe.

No matter how hard you try.

I breathe deeply through my nostrils, trying to relax myself so that the wave of grief and guilt will subside. By the time I’m done, night has swept in, bathing the inside of the cabin purple and blue.

I don’t notice anything amiss until I’m strapping my watch onto my wrist. The cabin is eerily silent, the air void of any other human presence. I spin from my spot in front of the bathroom basin and find the place empty. Harriet is missing. No longer in the bed.

My chest concaves.

All the breath work I did in the shower is for naught.

“Harriet?” No response. My blood turns to ice. The back door to my left that leads out onto the deck is open, the curtain blowing in the wind. The pants I wore on the safari are lying sprawled on the floor, one of the pockets pulled inside out.

I jog out onto the deck, flicking my gaze quickly over the outdoor space. No sight of her. And no good light to help me see.

“Etta!” I call. Silence greets me. I call her name again and start jogging out into the wild African bush. It starts off easy to maneuver, then quickly grows in density, the foliage overlapping like angry hands until I can barely see my feet. It only worsens my anger, pushing me over the edge.

If she hasn’t run off and Cerbera is responsible, I will rip him limb from limb so slowly he feels every second of it.

“Etta! You better be fucking breathing or I swear to God.”

“I’m here,” she calls. I follow the trail, picking up momentum until I think I see her black hair poking through the brush, her body bent beside the root of a tree that’s gnarly and twisted out of shape. The darkness makes it more nightmarish than it appears.

She looks up at me as I approach, her lips pulled into an excited grin. She points to something that I can’t see. “Look! It’s an African Bull Frog. I thought I could hear it—”

I grab her upper arm and haul her up. “Have you lost your fucking mind?” I snap.

She gasps, stumbling upward. “Odin!”

“The doors are locked for a reason .”

She flinches. “I know, I just wanted—”

“It doesn’t matter what you want. This is about your safety. This is about your life .” Her blue eyes well with water and start to sparkle. Her expression is a mix of apology and fright, and she suddenly looks so innocent it makes me sick. I let her go and turn away. “For fuck’s sake, Harriet.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I just… wasn’t thinking.”

“You need to stop doing that. Immediately,” I demand. “It will get us all killed if you keep throwing yourself into danger.”

She’s silent for a while, contemplating my words. Then she says something I could never have predicted, and inevitably, am not prepared for.

“Is this about Gen? ”

My entire being stiffens. My thoughts evaporate. The hollow pit in my stomach opens wide, letting all of my anguish rise to the surface.

She senses my sudden change. “Martise accidentally mentioned her name, but that was all.”

I shove it all down quickly, douse it with ice water. Still, there’s an edge to my voice and a clear chill in the air. “Don’t speak her name again.”

She crosses her arms over her middle. “Understood.”

“Let’s go.”

I gesture for her to go ahead of me so that I can keep an eye on her. She does so without a word.

Back inside the cabin, I make sure the doors are securely locked. I’m half tempted to swallow the key if it means she will stay put. But judging by the way she eats, the dimmed energy she exudes, I don’t think she’ll be going anywhere, anytime soon.

In the meantime, I have some business to attend to.

“Where are you going?” Harriet asks as I stride toward the door.

“Out. I’ll be back in an hour.”

“I get that I need to be safe, but you can’t just lock me in here and leave!” she stands and shouts after me.

“I can and I will.” We lock gazes for two heartbeats. I’m the one that severs the connection. I slam the door shut and make my way over to Dom’s and Ford’s place. They have a bottle of whiskey that I want and the silence that I crave.