Thandi watched her boyfriend carefully. Was he telling the truth? Her brother had been the same when he was an addict. Always coming up with a new story about how someone had cheated him or stolen from him or gotten him into trouble with the police. It was never his fault.

“What happened next?” she asked coldly.

“Well, I didn’t hear from him for ages. I thought it was all over. Then about six months ago he called me to come and have a look at one of his dogs. A pit bull. He was using her for fighting. She was badly injured. I bought the medicine that I needed and fixed her up. But then there was another dog, and another. I couldn’t get out.”

Thandi stared at him in disbelief. “Choices, Ntobi. You could have reported him for illegal dog fighting.”

Ntobi laughed bitterly. “And then what? Have Smilie send them the video of me delivering drugs? Or have him teach me a lesson with his knife? It kills me to know what he is doing to those dogs. And I’m spending all my money on meds for them, and as soon as they’re better then he puts them back in the ring, and they get torn apart again. I told him ‘no more’, but you can’t just end things with people like Smilie.”

Thandi picked up her bag. “I can’t be part of this,” she said firmly. “The more you help him, the deeper in the shit you get.” She had to get out of here. She wanted to cry, but not in front of this liar. This addict she’d once loved.

Ntobi grabbed her hands as she reached the front door. “Please, babe. I love you. Don’t give up on me. I’m going to sort this out. I’m not a tsotsi, baby. You know that. Please baby, give me a chance to sort this out.”

“I don’t know,” said Thandi. “I need time.” How much of this was the truth? She’d seen this with her brother – he told such clever lies that everyone was fooled. And he’d ended up both nearly destroying their family, and yet making them feel sorry for him – and all the while he was stealing their stuff to support his habit. She couldn’t go through that again. The tears welled up in her eyes at the thought.

She opened her bag to take out a tissue – and her fingers found Dean’s tracker. That would tell her if Ntobi was telling the truth or not. She could ask him where he’d been and if she could see he was lying she would know that she couldn’t trust him. She took it out and slipped it into the pocket of his SPCA jacket as he kissed her goodbye.

She had just stepped out onto the garden path when there was the squealing of tyres. A black car roared down the road towards them.

“Get inside,” Ntobi yelled, shoving her back into the house.

He threw her onto the floor as a bullet shot through the doorway, just missing her head. Glass shattered as three more bullets smashed the windows. A car gunned its engine and roared off down the road.

“Now do you believe me? That’s Smilie sending me a warning.” Ntobi said, helping her up. “I’m sorry, babe, I didn’t want you involved in this.”

“What are you going to do? How are you going to get out of this mess?” Thandi felt sick with fear. Ntobi was in too deep.

Ntobi’s cellphone rang. “It’s Smilie,” he muttered. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Smilie?” he shouted, “You could’ve killed us! I’m done with…”

Thandi could hear Smilie shouting from where she sat. Ntobi listened grimly, his face pale. “OK,” he said quietly and hung up. He picked up his veterinary bag.

“Where are you going? Please tell me you aren’t going to help him again?” pleaded Thandi.

“I’m sorry, babe. I’ve got to go. His best dog is injured.”

“You can’t.”

“I’ve got no choice. You saw what he just did. And believe me, he’s cold-blooded enough to kill me if he wanted.” He gripped her shoulders. “Listen, babe. Go straight home. I’ll call you in the morning.”

Thandi nodded. Her handbag still lay on the front step where she had dropped it. She picked it up and brushed off the shards of glass.

The street was empty. Thandi saw a curtain twitch as a neighbour peeped out. She was still shivering when Cheryl called.

“Hi, Thandi. Are you OK? I tried to call you three times and your phone went to voicemail. What happened?”

Thandi tried to answer, but she started to cry – big sobs that made the phone shake in her hand.

“Thandi? Thandi? Where are you? Must I come to you? Thandi, what’s going on?”

“I’m OK,” gulped Thandi. “Except Smilie almost just killed me.”

“Jirre! We should go to the police.”

“We can’t. They’ve got a video of Ntobi delivering drugs. He’ll go to jail.”

“Where is he now?”

“I dunno. Wherever Smilie keeps his dogs. I put that tracker thing that Dean made into his jacket. I don’t know how it works, though.”

“We should call Dean,” said Cheryl. “He’s got a car and he can help us. He won’t mind – he would do anything for you.”

Thandi shook her head, “I don’t want to involve anyone else. It’s too dangerous. And he’s just a kid.”

“Come on, Thandi,” said Cheryl. “We have to. It’s either that or call the police.”

***

Tell us what you think: Should they go to the police?