Smoke Between Us
686 Words
The yard was mostly quiet when Zuri arrived at the back end of the warehouse. Midnight Nairobi buzzed in the background — restless, hot, and full of secrets. She wasn’t sure what she expected.
But Fahim leaning against a forklift, arms crossed, cape draped over one shoulder like he was starring in some rebel noir fantasy?
Not that.
He looked unfair in the moonlight — all sharp lines and smooth control. His T-shirt clung to his chest, his forearms flexed, his loafers scuffed just enough to look intentional.
“I didn’t think you’d come,” he said.
“I didn’t come for you.”
“That’s what they all say.”
Zuri rolled her eyes, arms folded. “What did you find?”
He pulled a phone from his pocket and held it up. “Footage. Container 442-B was offloaded with no scan entry. Same fake seal trick. But get this—” he tapped the screen, paused it. “Recognize the man in the high-vis vest?”
She stepped closer, peering at the grainy footage. Her blood froze.
“Is that…?”
“Paul,” Fahim finished. “Your golden boy. COO.”
Zuri stared at the screen. “That’s not possible.”
“It is,” he said, voice quiet. “I’ve been watching. He uses your trust like a cloak.”
She took a step back, the wind knocked from her.
“I let him into every part of this company.”
“You’re not the one hiding stolen medicine in aid containers.”
She exhaled shakily. “If this is real, I’ll have to go public. He’ll destroy me first.”
Fahim’s eyes met hers. “Then let me help.”
Zuri blinked. “Why would you?”
His gaze lingered — heat, curiosity, something else. “Because I hate bullies. And because you look like a storm holding herself together with silk thread.”
She didn’t know what moved first — her hand or her body. But suddenly, she was in his space.
“I don’t like chaos,” she whispered.
“Then why do you keep walking toward me?” he murmured.
Her fingers brushed his chest. Hard muscle under cotton. Dangerous warmth. His hand slid to her waist, deliberate.
“You’re a bad idea,” she said.
He leaned in, lips near her ear. “So make a worse one.”
Their mouths collided.
It wasn’t gentle.
It was fire bursting from control. A week’s worth of tension breaking like glass. Zuri’s nails gripped his shoulders as his hands ran over her hips, firm, claiming, hungry. He walked her backward until her back hit the cold steel of a shipping container.
“Tell me to stop,” he growled.
She didn’t.
She arched into him instead, her blazer falling open. He tugged the pins from her bun, letting her hair tumble around her face. She bit his lip in response. He laughed against her mouth — low, wicked.
They didn’t need a bed. Not here. Not tonight.
But just when Zuri started undoing his belt, her phone vibrated violently in her pocket.
Paul.
She froze. Pulled away. Breathing hard.
“What?” Fahim said, chest heaving.
She stared at the screen.
“Tomorrow. Press conference. He’s trying to flip this. Make it look like you’re the smuggler.”
Fahim stiffened.
“He’s pinning it on me?” he asked quietly.
“Unless I expose him first,” she whispered.
Their eyes met. Something shifted. This wasn’t just lust anymore.
“Come with me tomorrow,” she said. “Stand beside me. As a witness.”
“I’ll stand beside you,” Fahim said, “but not in your shadow.”
Zuri nodded. “Fine. Then we burn him down together.”
He smiled, wicked and soft at the same time.
“Zuri?”
She paused.
“Whatever happens tomorrow — know this.” He leaned close, his lips brushing her cheek. “I’ve never met a woman who scares me in the right ways... until now.”
Then he turned and walked away, cape sweeping the air behind him.
- Writer
