Stolen Life (Beauty in the Stolen 2)

No matter what happens, I don’t want to betray him. Deep down, I always knew he was my other half on this earth. There are many reasons for us not to be together. He’s a wanted criminal sought by the authorities. His job is dangerous. Our lives are always at risk. There’s a difference of eleven years between us, but if my mom taught me one thing, it’s to never let norms lay down my rules. My mom was fifteen years older than my dad, and their marriage was magic. They were the happiest couple I knew. So, I embrace the risks.

When I accept to love our darkness as much as I love what’s good between us, peace dawns. There’s no more judgment, no mind wrestling to weighs pros against cons. There’s only my heart, my physically weak, headstrong heart, but my heart has always been all that matters.

I have a quick shower and get dressed. As usual, Ian has left breakfast for me—yoghurt and muesli with raspberries and honey. Our clothes from last night lie in a careless heap on the floor, a sweet reminder of our chemistry and compatibility that sends a wave of pleasant heat to my stomach. Ian has put away my gun and left my clutch on the chair. He’s plugged in my phone, making sure it’s fully charged.

More heat creeps over my skin, but this time it’s the unpleasant kind sparked by guilt. Biting my lip, I pick up the phone and unlock the screen. I haven’t set up a password. Ian could’ve easily checked my phone, but he didn’t, because he’s starting to trust me. The guilt that eats at my gut makes me glance at the door before I scroll to my notes. Ian will be somewhere on the farm, fixing something, or maybe he’ll be in the office, taking care of the books until Banga gets back. Maybe he’s converting the dining room into the dance studio he told me about last night while he held me in his arms, a place at the main building for me to do exercise and keep fit. It only makes me feel worse when I push on the play button and Oliver’s voice comes on.

I didn’t have time to listen to the recording. When I pretended to search for a tissue in my bag, I activated my phone. I wasn’t sure if it would work, but the men’s voices are clear as they discuss the deal. I’ve gotten everything, right to the part where they agree on the percentage of interest.

For a brief moment, I consider deleting the conversation, but this is my insurance if Ian can’t protect me. Since claiming me as his girlfriend last night, his enemies are mine. Even his friends pose danger. Oliver could still try to get his hands on me, and I’ll never trust Ruben. I’ll have to check my back twenty-four-seven. If I ever needed ammunition against any of those dangerous men, this is my ticket to safety. I’ll have to get hold of a flash drive and send the voice file to the drive before deleting it on my phone. To manage that, I need access to an adapter or a computer. I’ll have to convince Ian to let me use his laptop. Maybe I can steal a flash drive from the office.

I lock the screen and slip the phone into my handbag before carrying my breakfast outside. On the deck, I pause in surprise. The Jeep is parked out front. Leaving the tray on the table, I go down the steps and peer inside the vehicle.

The key is in the ignition. Ian left me the Jeep. He’s letting me drive without an escort. Emotions tighten my throat. I lift the canvas lying on the backseat to reveal a rifle. The trust he’s giving me only makes me feel worse, but I push it away as I shovel the breakfast down my throat and hurriedly make my way to the village.

Today I don’t go directly to the fields. I make a detour to the settlement and park in front of the clinic after making sure Ian’s Hummer isn’t anywhere within sight. To be on the safe side, I call him.

“This is a surprise,” he says in a deep voice, the obvious pleasure in his tone giving me goosebumps.

I can’t help the smile that slips onto my face. Playing with the Nyaminyami around my neck, I say, “We saw each other little over an hour ago.”

“Mm, you mean when I was buried inside you.”

My cheeks heat with the delicious memory. “Are you busy?”

“Just fixing the mirror for your new dance studio. Why? Is something wrong?”

I twist the tip of my shoe into the ground. “I just wanted to say thanks for leaving me the Jeep.”

A second passes. He knows what I’m really thanking him for. “Did you find the rifle?”