16

JAWAHIR

“Is the sun really rising already?” Jawahir sighs sadly. She rises from the sofa bed, the thin sheet wrapped around her bare shoulders. “I don’t want our night to end.”

Rodney pulls her gently back next to him. “Who says it has to?”

Jawahir strokes the side of Rodney’s unshaven face. “What are we going to do?”

“You have any relatives we could—” Rodney starts.

“No, most of them live here in Minnesota, but I’m sure those who don’t wouldn’t allow me to live with them. If so, it would only be to trick me until they could send me back to my father.”

“I got a cousin in Chicago, one of Larry’s sons. Maybe—”

“My father would find us,” Jawahir whispers. “He would spare no expense. I’m sure right now he has all of his and Farhan’s father’s friends out looking for me as if I were some criminal.”

“You’re not a criminal, nor am I,” Rodney reassures. Jawahir kisses him. “I was, but I’m not now.”

“I don’t care about anything before we met. All I care about is since you helped me that—”

Rodney laughs. He points at her dress and his shirt on the floor. Both stained with blood from the fight. “It seems like we’re trapped in some sort of circle.”

Jawahir pulls closer. “Life is a circle. I’m just glad we’re traveling around it together.”

Rodney takes a deep breath and reaches for his phone. He scrolls through his messages, but stops suddenly. “I’ve got a bunch of calls from my PO. I gotta get out of town. Jump on the bus, and quick.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“No, not now. You go back home and tell everyone it’s over between us. Renounce me, do whatever you have to do so you don’t get punished or hurt. Save yourself. Then once I got things squared in Chicago, I’ll send for you, through Larry, and we’ll leave all this behind.”

“I don’t think I can—” Jawahir starts, but Rodney silences her with a kiss.

“We went too many years without knowing each other. We can make it a few more—”

“Days, not weeks.” She senses a day without Rodney will feel like the longest week of the year.