Chapter 7

Pilgrim’s Nest, North of Pretoria, Gauteng Province.

I took a deep breath, keeping my expression calm. I couldn’t afford to let her see my discomfort. “Zara,” I began gently, “you’ve been through a lot, and I get that. But right now ... this isn’t what you need. You are a pretty girl, beautiful, just that pink hair gets to me. It can’t be your natural hair colour, but that is you. And I respect you for who you are.”

Her grin widened, eyes twinkling with a mix of mischief and challenge. “Oh, so you’ve been paying attention, huh? Got a thing for pink hair, do you?” She tilted her head, leaning slightly closer as if daring me to react.

I chuckled, trying to defuse the tension with humour. “It’s hard to miss, Zara.”

“And you say some little cuddling is not what I require right now?” she repeated, her tone playful but with an edge of uncertainty. “I’m not so sure. Sometimes, what we think we don’t need is exactly what we do.”

She looked at me for a moment, her playful demeanour fading into something more serious. “You really think it’s that big, this thing with that grease ball, Sloan, huh?” she asked, but the flirtiness hadn’t completely disappeared. She was testing me, seeing how far she could push.

I nodded, trying to be both firm and reassuring. “It is. And that’s why we need to keep you out of sight, keep you safe until we figure out what to do next.”

Zara sighed, then slowly pushed herself off the door frame, sauntering into the room. Her movements were deliberate, her gaze still playful as she looked at me.

“I guess I didn’t really think about it like that,” she admitted, her voice softer but with an undercurrent of flirtation. “I just ... I don’t know. I’m scared, Alex. And when I get scared, I tend to ... act out. Sometimes, in ways that get me into trouble. And with you, I can’t see how I could get in trouble but maybe get knocked-up.”

I nodded, moving a step closer but staying respectful of her space. “Look, you’re young, and you’re in a tough spot right now. It’s natural to want to escape, to distract yourself from everything going on. But ... Zara, what you’ve got is way more important than any of this. You’re not just some girl running from trouble. You’re holding onto something that could change everything. And although you offered, I’m not going to take advantage of you in that way.”

She blinked, her smile fading as she absorbed my words. “So, you think I’m just some kid who doesn’t know what she’s doing?” she challenged, her tone shifting. She plopped down on the couch and hugged a cushion to her chest, but the teasing look never completely left her eyes. “I’m not a kid any more, So ... what now?”

“No, not at all,” I said quickly, sitting down across from her. “I think you’re smarter than you realize, and you’re stronger than you know. But trying to cope by ... offering yourself like this — it’s not going to help. It won’t make the fear go away, Zara. You deserve better than that.”

Zara’s expression shifted, her eyes searching mine as if she were trying to gauge if I was serious. “Better?” she asked, her voice quieter now. “You really think ... I deserve better?”

I leaned forward, making sure my voice was calm, steady. “Yeah, I do. You’ve been running, hiding, trying to stay ahead of people who only see you as a tool, a way to get what they want. But you’re more than that. You’re a person, Zara. You’ve got value, not because of what you can give someone, but because of who you are. And I’m not going to take advantage of you when you’re vulnerable.”

She was silent for a long moment, her fingers tightening around the cushion she held. “No one’s ever said that to me before,” she finally admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “People just ... they usually see me as easy. Like I’m just here to be used and then tossed aside.”

“Well, not here,” I said softly. “Not with us. Leon, Don, Dave ... they care about you. And I do too. You’re safe with us, Zara. That’s what matters most right now.”

Her eyes softened, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of trust there. She shifted on the couch, hugging the cushion tighter, but the playful edge returned to her voice. “You know, Alex, you’re making it really hard for me to keep teasing you.”

I smirked, leaning back slightly. “Maybe that’s the point. I need to show you that there is more to you and to life than sex. First love, then if the connection is there the sex can follow. But, realize that it’s not sex, it’s making love. Tender and with respect.”

She rolled her eyes but smiled, the tension easing. “Possibly you’re right. Maybe I finally found people who see me for more than ... all that other stuff.”

“Exactly,” I said, standing up. “How about we grab something to eat? No strings attached, just a meal and a chance to relax for a bit. You’re safe here, Zara. That’s what matters.”

She looked up at me, and the mischievous gleam in her eyes dimmed slightly, replaced by something warmer. But she wasn’t quite done pushing back. “Fine, but don’t think you’ve won me over just yet. I’m still not sure about all this ‘better’ stuff you’re talking about.”

I chuckled, grateful for the shift in mood. “Fair enough. How about we start with grilled cheese sandwiches and see where that takes us?”

She grinned and nodded, the playful spark returning. “Grilled cheese sandwiches sounds good. And hey, just so you know — no sausage.” Giggle.

I laughed, leading the way to the kitchen with Zara following close behind. She might not have fully accepted my point of view yet, but that was okay. We had time. For now, keeping her safe and comfortable was what mattered most. And as we cooked together, I realized that maybe, just maybe, we were starting to understand each other a little better. And maybe, just possibly, we could make it through this mess together.

“My natural hair colour is light brown...” Zara softly said.

We finished our grilled cheese sandwiches and coffee, sitting quietly for a few moments afterwards. Zara, surprisingly, seemed content with the simplicity of the meal. I wasn’t sure if a teenage girl would even like coffee, but she did, sipping it as if it were an old habit. She even helped with the clean-up, humming to herself, smiling as she wiped down the counter.

“Zara, can I ask you a personal question?” I ventured, leaning against the sink after we were done.

She turned to face me, her expression open but curious. “Yeah ... sure.”

“You didn’t bring any luggage with you ... Where’s your stuff?”

Her gaze flickered for a moment, a brief shadow crossing her face. “I don’t have much in the way of clothes. The few things I do have are in a Wendy house in some old man’s backyard. I clean his house sometimes, and he lets me stay there for free.”

(Author’s Note: A “Wendy House”, or a “Wendy”, is a small, one room wooden structure, usually in the back garden of a suburban property used for the storage of garden tools or as a live-in quarters for one or two people. Some will call it a garden shed, but in Zara’s case, she lived in one. A Wendy also sports one or two windows, a lockable door, and in extreme cases a small covered porch in front of the structure.)

“Where’s your family, your mom, and dad?” I asked. I had to ask. I needed to understand why she is alone, running around with pink hair at her tender age.

“My mom and dad died in a car crash. The social workers wanted to put me in foster care as we had no other family that could take care of me. Foster care did not turn out well.” A dark cloud passed over her eyes and after a while she continued: “That’s where I lost my virginity ... I ran away.”

“What about school?” I asked, anticipating the answer.

“I flunked out...” She honestly replied, and I knew what she meant. In her circumstances, what else could have happened?

I frowned, the reality of her situation sinking in. “Zara ... If it’s okay with you, Leon and I can help you get some stuff while you’re staying here. You know, things you need.”

She raised an eyebrow, clearly sceptical. “Stuff like what?”

“Oh, you know,” I stammered, suddenly feeling a little awkward. “Clothes ... personal things ... things that girls use. You know, etcetera, etcetera...”

She caught my hesitation and grinned, her eyes lighting up with amusement. “You’re blushing!” she giggled, pointing at me.

I quickly turned away, trying to hide my embarrassment. “Am not!”

“You totally are!” she teased, laughing.

“Am not!” I insisted, but even I could feel the heat creeping up my neck.

Zara chuckled again, but then her expression shifted, more serious now. “Alex ... How long am I going to stay here?”

“As long as it takes to guarantee your safety,” I replied, hoping to reassure her. But her question hung in the air, making the situation feel more real.

“Then,” she said slowly, “we better be adult about it, since we’ll be bumping into each other often.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, nodding. “You’re right.”

Still, despite the light-hearted banter, I couldn’t shake the uncertainty about what having Zara here would mean. She seemed vulnerable yet resilient, and her presence was already stirring up more than just my protective instincts.

“Zara,” I asked, cautiously. “How old are you, exactly?”

“I’ll be seventeen next month,” she answered without hesitation.

I nodded again, more to myself than to her. “Thanks.”

She tilted her head, studying me with a curious look. “Does that make you uncomfortable?”

“Not really,” I replied, even though the situation did feel a bit strange.

“You’re worried about what people might think, aren’t you? You’re a respected guy around here.”

“The only people who come by here are my farm staff,” I said with a shrug, “and maybe my brother and his wife.”

She smirked slightly. “And your girlfriend?” She asked, her tone teasing again.

I laughed softly at that. “I don’t have a girlfriend. Maybe just a friend who happens to be a girl...”

Her curiosity piqued, she leaned in a little. “Oh? Who is she?”

“Leon’s daughter, Ally. You’ll meet her soon.”

Zara’s eyebrows lifted. “Is she good-looking?”

I paused for a second, then shrugged again. “I haven’t really noticed. She’s younger than you. She’s fourteen.”

Zara was quiet after that, her playful demeanour fading into something more reflective. She seemed to be mulling over what I’d said, the gears turning in her head. After a moment, she spoke up again, her voice softer this time. “I’ll try not to make any waves...”

I looked at her, offering a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, Zara. Ally’s just a friend. She won’t think anything of you staying here. Leon and I will explain everything to her. She’ll understand.”

“Will she really?” Zara asked, though there was a hint of uncertainty in her voice and body language.

“She will,” I replied confidently. “She’s a smart kid.”

She nodded, though I caught a hint of apprehension in the way she shifted on her feet, her arms wrapping around herself as if for comfort.

It was then that I heard a car pull up outside, the sound of tires crunching on gravel. I glanced towards the window, the tension in the air shifting.

“Let’s go see who that is,” I said, motioning for Zara to follow me. She trailed behind as I made my way to the lounge and towards the front patio, both of us feeling a little more grounded but still uncertain about what lay ahead.

It was Leon’s SUV pulling up outside, but this time he wasn’t alone. As soon as the vehicle came to a stop, the passenger door swung open, and Ally sprang out, her energy palpable. She raced up the patio stairs, a whirlwind of movement, while Leon followed at a more leisurely pace.

Normally, I would’ve braced myself for one of her exuberant leaps into my arms — a routine greeting after we hadn’t seen each other for a day or two. But today was different. This time, she simply wrapped me in a quick hug and turned her attention to Zara, who stood a few steps behind me. I had the distinct feeling that Leon had briefed Ally on why Zara was at my place.

Ally’s ever-present smile brightened her face as she introduced herself. “Hi! I’m Ally!”

Zara hesitated for just a beat before responding. “Hello, Ally. I’m Zara. Short for Shara-Anne Elizabeth Thompson.”

I nearly did a double take. Zara had just revealed her full name, something she hadn’t shared with me in all our conversations. Ally had managed to coax it out of her within seconds. I felt a little sheepish for not asking her directly myself.

Ally’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Well, Zara, my first name is also Elizabeth! But everyone calls me Ally for short,” she said with a giggle. “Come on, let’s talk shopping. Dad filled me in on your situation, and I’d be happy to help you out.”

Zara looked at me and then Leon, her face reflecting a mix of surprise and uncertainty. I gave her a reassuring nod.

“Go on with Ally,” I said, smiling. “She’ll get you sorted out in no time.”

Without missing a beat, Ally took Zara’s hand, and the two of them disappeared into the house, their chatter already starting to blend together.

Leon sighed as he dropped into one of the patio chairs. “Now, where’s that world-famous coffee of yours? I’ve got some news, and I could use a pick-me-up.”

“You’re in luck,” I said with a grin. “I just brewed a fresh pot. Give me a sec, and I’ll bring it out.”

He leaned back in his chair, looking more worn out than usual. “You don’t mind if I wait here, do you? I’m exhausted. I’m not used to all this running around.”

“Take it easy, Leon. I’ll be back in a minute,” I replied, heading inside to grab the coffee.

As I passed through the lounge, I caught sight of Ally and Zara already deep in conversation. They were seated on one of the couches, facing each other, Ally animatedly talking while Zara listened intently.

“And we’ve got to get you some comfy shoes too,” Ally was saying, her voice filled with authority that belied her age. “Those boots are going to murder your feet.”

Zara just nodded, her expression softening as she listened to Ally’s advice. There was something reassuring in seeing them like that, as if Zara had found a moment of normalcy amidst the chaos.

I shook my head with a small smile and continued into the kitchen to fetch the coffee. Things were falling into place, at least for the moment.

I returned to the patio with two steaming mugs of coffee and handed one to Leon, who accepted it with a grateful nod. The late afternoon sun cast a warm glow over the yard, and the cicadas were singing their relentless droning tune from somewhere among the trees. The cows in the paddock to the left were lazily grazing, their slow movements a stark contrast to the urgency of our situation. The sun was inching towards its 4:00 PM position, bathing everything in a golden light that was still warm but no longer unbearable.

Leaning back into my chair, I took a sip of my coffee. The rich, bold flavour was a comforting distraction. Leon savoured his own cup, smacking his lips appreciatively.

“Ahhh ... Nectar of the gods!” he exclaimed. “So, what’s the plan with the girls?” he asked, his tone more relaxed now that he had coffee in hand.

“They’re deep in shopping talk,” I said with a slight smile. “I heard something about getting Zara some new shoes.”

Leon chuckled. “Looks like my credit card is about to take a hit!”

I shrugged. “I can chip in too, you know. Share the cost.”

“Nah, let’s keep it simple. Ally’s already decided: ‘Ah, a new friend.’ She’s excited.”

“You mentioned you had some news?” I prompted, shifting gears.

“Yeah,” Leon said, setting his coffee down. “I had a conference call with Don and Dave. They came up with a plan. There’s a guy at SAPS who’s actually with Interpol. He can advise us and guide us on how to proceed. I’m expecting a call from him any minute.”

“That’s good to hear,” I said, nodding. “But you mentioned there was another option?”

Leon leaned forward, his expression serious. “We could involve the Foundation for Law and Order.”

I raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “And who exactly are they?”

“They’re an international organization based in Cape Town but with a global reach. They focus on justice and legal support,” Leon explained.

“And can they help us? What’s the cost?” I asked, my mind already calculating the potential expenses.

“Don said they’re funded by investments and international sponsors. They’re funded by legitimate sources that support justice for those who need it.”

I frowned, feeling a twinge of discomfort. “I think we should first try going through the SAPS route.”

“But we should consider the FLO too,” Leon countered. “They might be able to offer protection for Zara.”

“I’m not comfortable bringing in an organization I don’t know much about,” I admitted.

“Don mentioned their security agency provides bodyguards at no cost to us. They’re fully funded by their backers.”

“The SAPS can provide security too,” I pointed out.

“Twenty-four-seven?” Leon pressed.

“Is that what it’ll take?” I asked, feeling the weight of the situation. Also thinking about what to do with Zara when Ally and my ‘date’ of Saturday night come along. I can take Zara along, but going back to the Rustenburg area with her and that shocking pink hair standing out so well, was a risk.

“Yes, it is,” Leon confirmed.

I sighed, leaning back in my chair. “If Zara’s going to stay here, I’ll need some reassurance while I’m asleep. I can’t keep an eye on her 24/7.”

“Understood,” Leon said. “I’ll mention the FLO to the Brigadier if he calls and see what he thinks. In the meantime, Ally’s crash bag is in the car.”

“Are you sure? With Ally, I mean?”

“Yes. What? Are you afraid Ally might accost you?”