Kristi closed her eyes, rubbed her temple. “His name is Obi.”
“Good work, Obi.” Malik gave the boy a smile.
What was his story?
With no time to ask, Malik took the wheel, rifle beside him, while David rode shotgun, his hands busy controlling the drone.
“The way ahead looks clear.”
Malik started the vehicle, hit the gas, and they were off, bouncing over rutted roads. He glanced into the rearview mirror, saw Kristi pressing her fingers to her temple, the pain on her face putting a knot of worry in his chest. Head injuries were unpredictable. “When we reach Kinu, you’re driving.”
David looked over his shoulder, spoke to Obi. “Who are you?”
Obi spoke to David in rapid Naija, Malik catching some of it. He understood that Obi had lost his parents and someone named Jidda had taken him in. He understood, too, that Kristi had helped Obi. But the rest of the conversation escaped Malik.
By the time they reached Kinu, Kristi was asleep. Malik parked just outside of the village and climbed out to trade places with Obi, while David recalled the drone and updated his contacts about their situation via sat phone.
“You are Malik, her husband?” Obi asked as he passed.
That was … interesting.
Malik didn’t want to contradict anything Kristi might have told them. “Yes.”
Obi smiled, the first smile Malik had seen on his young face. “She said you would come. She said you would kill any man who touched her.”
She’d said that?
“She was right.” Malik grabbed a combat first aid kit and another bottle of water for Kristi out of the back, then climbed into the backseat beside her and stowed his rifle, barrel facing downward, near his feet. He peeled off his gloves, reached over, and stroked her bruised cheek with his knuckles. “Kristi, sweetheart, wake up.”
She whimpered, raised her head. “Worst headache ever.”
“I’ve got some painkillers in this kit—oxy, acetaminophen, ibuprofen.”
“Acetaminophen and ibuprofen, please.”
He got out the pills, placed them in her palm, watched her swallow.
“Thanks.”
To hell with this.
“Come here.” Malik unbuckled her seatbelt, drew her toward him so that she rested in his lap now, her head pillowed by his arm. “Rest. I’ll get you home.”
“Malik.” She said his name, smiled. “Will you be here when I open my eyes?”
“Damn straight I will be.”
Malik watched her fall asleep. He told himself she was safe, that it was over, but the knot in his chest wouldn’t go away, one thought running on loop through his mind.
What if he and David had waited?
What if they’d come tomorrow or a week from now?
Fuck.
* * *
Kristi woke with a start,found herself looking into Malik’s beautiful brown eyes. “It wasn’t a dream.”