131Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtWytYoktvIThey grabbed my neck and I cried like a bitch begging for mercy.
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Harare at 2 AM smells like burnt sadza and diesel from the kombis that never sleep. The alley behind Mbare Musika stank worse. Four of them had me pinned against the corrugated iron Tawanda, Blessing, Chenai, and the quiet one, Tinashe. The crew I’d robbed eighteen months ago outside Bulawayo.
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The crew I’d convinced to hold “the client’s” fake gold while I walked out the back with the real shipment and a line that went dead the next morning.
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Tawanda’s forearm was across my throat. Not enough to cut it off. Enough to make every word come out wet and useless.
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“You remember us, Mjay?” he said. His voice was calm in that way that meant he’d already decided.
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I nodded. Lying would waste time. I’d taught them that lesson, ironically.
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“Yeah,” I said. “You’re late.”
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Blessing drove a knee into my ribs. Not hard enough to break anything. Just enough to remind me he could.
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“We waited,” Chenai said. “Zimbabwe’s small when you owe the wrong people.”
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Tinashe hadn’t spoken. He was the one who’d taken a round in the leg that night because of my timing. He was just watching me breathe. That was worse.
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Mercy wasn’t coming. Not from them. I’d taken their rep, their money, and the one job that would’ve put them clean for good. In their world, that debt gets paid in blood or bone.
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So I did the only thing left that was mine to control.
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I stopped struggling.
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Tawanda eased up a fraction, confused.
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“I know where the rest of it is,” I said.
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Blessing laughed. “We checked your places in Mufakose. You’re broke, Mjay.”
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“Not my money,” I said. “Yours. The client never paid. He was laundering through a shell in Mauritius. It got seized six months ago. But the forfeiture records are public now. Case number 22-CV-1847. You file a claim, you get 60%. About 380k USD.”
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Tinashe finally spoke. Shona, low and rough. “Sei urikutiudza? Why tell us?”
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“Because if you kill me, you never get it,” I said. “And because I’m tired of running from men I respect.”
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Silence. The kind that happens right before a decision gets made.
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Tawanda looked at Blessing. Blessing looked at Tinashe. Tinashe looked at me.
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“You lied once,” Tawanda said. “Why not now?”
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“Check it,” I said. “Right now. On your phone. If I’m lying, you can finish this at dawn. I’m not going anywhere.”
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They didn’t let me up. Blessing kept his knee in my back while Tinashe pulled up the docket on his phone. I could see the screen from the angle. Public records. Seizure. Unclaimed claimant funds. My name wasn’t on it. I’d made sure of that.
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Thirty seconds passed.
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Tinashe lowered the phone.
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“Ichokwadi,” he said. It’s true.
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Tawanda let go of my neck. I didn’t move. Moving now would look like running.
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“So what now?” Blessing asked. “We just let you walk?”
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“No,” I said. “You keep the money. I work it off. Driving, security, whatever. No cut. No name on anything. Just until it’s even.”
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Tawanda stepped back. He spat on the ground.
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“Uri bharanzi, Mjay. You’re a coward. But you’re a smart coward.”
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He turned to go.
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“Tomorrow. 6 AM. At the terminus. Don’t be late.”
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I sat there after they left, hands shaking, throat raw.
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I didn’t thank them. Gratitude would’ve been another lie.
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For the first time in three years, I wasn’t running. I was just waiting.
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And that felt worse. And better.131Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGMYFq8R8tk
and then Add to home screen.