Escape.

Run for her life.

Those phrases resounded in her head when she gathered what little she could and snuck out as soon as he left.

There was no thought of where to go. Gazie only knew she had to put a lot of distance between them.

Was she far away enough now?

Gazie prayed so. He would never think to look for her in these parts. Really, how could he ever think she would cross three major towns and several villages just to get away from him?

No. He would search for her around their village, around the main city, but he would not find her.

If only he’d never again find her.

Her head hurt from being anxious, so she turned her thoughts away from him and looked towards the place she hoped to call home. Hilly Town. The village was so christened as it was up on a hill.

The bike she was on groaned and sputtered as it made the climb. Gazie didn’t think she had a right to complain. She’d had to beg the rider to take her for half the price.

Half the price because it was the last money on her.

No fretting over that particular problem, either. If she did, she would lose the fraction of strength left in her. And she couldn’t survive without it.

Without the hope she clutched desperately to her heart.

But, lord, she was cold. True, her teeth no longer chattered and her joints didn’t ache as much as they did, still she was so cold. Exhausted too. And so hungry, her intestines grumbled louder than a disgruntled old man.

Let there be someone kind to offer her food and shelter. That was her prayer, even though she didn’t count on getting shelter. Hardly anyone allowed strangers into their homes. She would have to find an open stall. If she was lucky, one with a bench, and rest there for the night.

It could be for many nights until she found a job that offered boarding along with it.

At last, the bike coughed to a stop at the park. Gazie descended and thanked the rider, praying God to bless him for his kindness.

Alone, she looked around her.

There were buses parked, one or two could be broken down, just one car, and then nothing else.

Her chest tightened with fear. It had to be past nine, maybe even closer to ten. Too late for a woman to be out at night.

A young woman.

Well, even an old woman wasn’t safe alone at night.

No, it didn’t help to scare herself. Swallowing hard, Gazie pinned her gaze on the building ahead of her. The droning sounds of a generator came from that angle, providing a trail of light.

Gazie followed it. She would run if she could muster the strength for the exercise, but her feet throbbed from exhaustion.

An eatery, she thought as she made out tables outside and people sitting around them. Or not an eatery, but more like a beer parlour. She heard the echo of music now, and those were men at the tables with bottles of drink.

The signboard read, Soup and Booze.

What a peculiar name. But if it said ‘soup’, then it had to have food. The promise of it made her hungrier. Her last meal was the day before. In the afternoon.

Desperate now, her scouring gaze landed on the table closest to the entrance. Three men sat on it; watching her as she approached. The only other table had one occupant, and he appeared to be in a world of his own.
Should she step inside and beg for food?

“Hey, you. Come here.”

There, the decision was taken out of her hands. Ignoring the spasm of fear in her throat that suddenly threatened to make her cry, she moved towards the table of three.
“Good evening, sirs.” That fear more than respect made her curtsy.

“Who are you? And why are you out so late?” The one who’d called her asked.

He looked her over. They all did. She knew her clothes clung to her body in a way that was indecent. It didn’t help that the rain drenched her earlier.

Hoping to cover a bit of her front view, Gazie wrapped her arms around herself as if in resistance to the cold.

“I didn’t leave early enough to make it on time.” Her stomach churned at the sight of pepper soup and grilled meat. “Can you give me a little to eat? I’ve not had a bite since morning.”

They exchanged looks. Still, it was the same man who spoke. “I asked you who you are. What’s your name? And tell me how you got the bruise on your face.”
He’d slapped her hard, for turning him down.

She couldn’t tell them that, or anything about her. In retrospect, she should have walked inside. But what was the guarantee those there were any better than these men? Any less—

The word she needed eluded her. But the way he ogled her was predatory. It made her skin crawl.

“A little food. That’s all I’m begging.” Tears stung her eyes from the shame of having to beg.

“I can give you food. That will be after you tell me your name and from where you’re coming. You have to know that nothing goes for nothing.” His leering smile repulsed Gazie.

Turn and walk away, her dignity ordered. Hunger locked her feet on the spot. “I will do whatever work you ask of me.”

“There’s only one work to do at night.” His stare turned revoltingly lascivious. “You know what I’m talking about, don’t you?”

He reached out his hand, and Gazie stumbled back.

“She’s with me.”

Huh?

She pivoted to see the one who spoke the words. And Gazie could have sworn she was about to keel over in a dead faint.

It had to be hunger. Hunger, and not the fact that the man was a barrel-chested giant. Good lord, how was it possible for anyone to possess such thick muscles?
The shirt on him would rip apart if he so much as flexed his biceps.

“How are you going to claim she’s with you when we saw her arrive?”

Gazie snapped out of her daze. He was trying to help her. Or, at least, that was her hope.

His presence made the spokesman for table of three look pint-sized. The distinction would make Gazie laugh if she had the presence of mind for humour.

“Because she is,” her saviour said. “This is my bar and she came looking for me.”

“Who is she?” Spokesman challenged.

“None of your business, Obata. Will you require anything else for the night?”

“You’re not trying to get in my business again, Jamal, are you?” Threat thrummed in Spokesman’s voice.

Her saviour remained stolid. “It is my bar, so my business in fact.” He looked at her. “Let’s go.”

Gazie scrambled after him.

Inside had way more tables than she could count in a heartbeat. But she noticed it was spacious, well-lit, and had ventilation coming from the ceiling fans and open windows.

He took her behind the bar at the end of the room. Another man was there, younger than him and a lot less muscular.

“Take a sit,” he told her.

Grateful to get off her feet, Gazie climbed on a high stool. “Thank you.” She still hoped he was helping.

He nodded. “What’s your name?”

“Gazie. Yagazie.” It was weird how he made her feel safe. “What is yours?”

The younger man made a strangled noise, while he only tilted his head. “Jamal. I’ll ask the questions. What family are you here to visit?”

A lie was useless. It was a small village where most, if not everyone, were probably acquainted.

“None. I’m on the run, and right now starved.”

He stared at her for several heartbeats, then said, “Combine two bowls of pepper soup and bring it with a bottle of malt.” He raised his voice, added another instruction. “Ikenna, prepare her one pack of your noodles.”

Just like that, food appeared in front of her. They made the other stool her table and left her to eat in comfort.
Hungry as she was, Gazie was done in mere minutes.
He reappeared as she gathered the dishes. “I’ll handle it. Rest. We still have an hour to go.”

He had to mean an hour before he closed the bar. Was he saying he would provide her shelter?

In his house?

Gazie turned to the kitchen behind the bar to look at him. Yes, she’d be safe with him anywhere. His face carried a hint of kindness, the same as his voice.

His face. With hunger not dulling her senses anymore, she could tell he was handsome. The good look wasn’t limited to his face. His hulk-like build must make women drool.

“I said rest, not gawk at me,” he said, without raising his head.

Oh. She averted her gaze, flushing.

Since a few curious eyes were on her, she propped her head on the bar and closed her eyes.

The next thing she knew was that he tapped her on the shoulder, told her it was time to go, and took her with him in his car.

They made a stop to pick up a sleeping boy, and continued to a house enclosed by a decorative block fence.

Why did the child have to stay out so late? Gazie wondered. Or was the man a single parent?

Using his flashlight he located a massive rechargeable lantern, flicked it on, then another, and yet another.

Wow, he was rich.

Or not.

Gazie didn’t know enough to tell. It was just that his living room was the most exquisite she’d ever seen. It even smelled exquisite. Her frumpy state in ill-fitting clothes became apparent, making her feel out of place.

“How about you take one of the lamps and follow me?” he said, and went ahead. “You’ll use Otito’s room, while he and I share mine. That’s the bathroom.” He nodded to a door. “I’ll get you a toothbrush and towel. But there’s soap and toothpaste inside.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

He opened the door and stepped away from it. “You can call me Jamal. I’ll wait for you in the parlour. Join me after your bath.”

“Yes, sir. Sorry.” Gazie had never addressed a person older than her by name. “Thank you for being so kind.”
With a nod, he turned and walked with the boy into another room.

There could be a wife and she went on a trip. Or she might have—

She aborted the negative thought. A man who’d been so good to her didn’t deserve ill-luck from wicked thoughts.

As he was waiting for her, she made fast work of her bath, dressed in cleaner clothes and joined him in the living room.

He’d showered. It was evident by his damp hair, and he’d changed into pyjamas. The clothes didn’t cling to him; even so he looked much too manly in them.

“The kind thing to do would be to let you go straight to bed. But I’d sleep better myself if I had some answers.”

“I understand, sir.”

“It’s Jamal.”

“Jamal.” Gazie made herself repeat it, tilting up her gaze to meet his, and surprisingly, her skin flushed with sudden heat.

Hold it now. He was married. Or maybe he was not.

“I’d like to ask a question.”

“Go ahead.”

“Are you married?”

“I wonder if you’re bold, or you have no filter,” he said in a musing tone.

As she didn’t know the answer to that, Gazie shrugged and waited.

“I’m not married.”

“Then Otito—”

“He’s my nephew.”

He wasn’t married. The information pleased her for no explainable reason.

“It must sound like I’m intrusive. I’m the one taking shelter in your house and asking personal questions. I only wanted to be certain I’m not intruding on another woman’s home, or anything like that.”

“It’s all right. I like things to be clear too, which is why I have my own questions.”

Gazie nodded. When they sat face to face like this, he didn’t look so large. He was still a big, muscled man, but not so much a giant. It was puzzling why she felt self-conscious and shy when she hadn’t at the bar.

They were alone. That was the reason.

And she knew now that he was single.

And he was refreshed. And had a different kind of smell on him now. One that tempted her to draw closer and sniff him.

What was she thinking?

Her Shield - #2

What was he doing holding her gaze and contemplating kissing her slightly parted lips?

For God’s sake, she had bruises on her cheek, her temple and another on her shoulder.

He hadn’t noticed the one on her shoulder earlier because her sleeve covered it. But it was visible now, and he suspected she had more on her body.

Yet, he was lusting for her?

Ashamed of his train of thought, and not for the first time, Jamal gave himself a good mental shake. He was not going there. No, he was not a pervert to take advantage of a vulnerable and defenceless woman.

It was why he’d come out, knowing the scoundrel Obata was, and that his friends would never go against him.

He’d noticed her from a window coming towards the bar. Trudging, as if her legs could barely move. Then she paused at the entrance, and just when he thought she’d walk in, she crossed to the table Obata and his minions occupied.

He’d given her a few minutes, then gone out to save her from getting herself plundered. So, he would hear her story and send her off to bed without subjecting her to that fate himself.

But, by God, she was beautiful. Her skin was the brown colour of sand; just as rich and smooth. And her body was full and ripe for one so young.

Jamal cleared his throat to pull both of them back to reality. No, he would not analyse the heated look in her eyes.

Or that she was flustered as she bit her lip and sat back.

“Who put those bruises on you?” he asked.

“The bruises?” She looked away. “Someone beat me.”

“Who?”

He wanted to hear a parent. It wouldn’t make it right or any less loathsome, but he didn’t want it to be the possibility he’d forbidden himself to consider.

“The man they handed me to as his wife.”

Jamal’s blood froze. “Who handed you to him?”

“My uncle.” She entwined her fingers tightly on her lap, and still tremors rocked her. “I’m an orphan. My father died four months before I was born, and my mother followed three weeks after giving birth to me. I grew up in my uncle’s home. He’s my father’s only sibling. When I was eighteen, he handed me to Kambili Odume, a man he owed three hundred and fifty thousand naira.”

Right.

Right.

He’d expected…Jamal couldn’t say what he expected. It certainly wasn’t this ridiculous, horrible tale.

“He offered you as payment for a debt he owed?”

“Yes. Kambili Odume cancelled the debt after he took me home. After he…he…” She choked and began to cry.

After he slept with her, Jamal completed.

Slept with her?

It was rape. He raped her, and cancelled her uncle’s three hundred and fifty thousand naira debt.

“No!” Jamal grated the word.

He didn’t think about it. Just stood, pulled her against him, and held her. She stiffened for an instant, then let the wariness go.

Jamal held her until her sobbing ceased.

“Thank you,” she said as she sat again. Her expression was a little baffled.

Jamal supposed it wasn’t normal for a stranger to be so expressive. But he didn’t regret offering her that small comfort.

“You ran away from him.” Brave of her, he thought.

“This afternoon. Yesterday he beat me because I wouldn’t let him—” She left the rest unsaid. But Jamal could fill in the blanks. “He denied me dinner and also breakfast today. He’d have starved me all day, but he was called out on an emergency and left without securing the doors.”

“He kept you locked in?”

She nodded. “After I ran away the first time. When I escaped again last year, he stopped me going out entirely and meeting people.”

The bastard kept her a prisoner.

“Is your uncle aware of his abuse?”

“He knows. The first time I ran, it was to go back home. He’d beat me so hard that my entire body was either swollen, bruised or bleeding. My uncle saw me. The rest of the family did. Yet, he took me back. He—my uncle—took me back to Kambili.”

Her palpable misery stabbed at Jamal. It opened up an old wound, one that might never completely heal, and ripped his heart in two.

“You should go to bed now.” He wanted too much to hold her, and shouldn’t. “We’ll finish tomorrow.”

“No, please. I’d rather finish it now that I started.”

“Then finish it,” Jamal said, and listened until she did.
These facts stood out.

She was twenty-two. After she got her WASSCE, and with no hope for a tertiary education, she’d wanted to take a skills training course. Instead, her family delivered her to a man who, for the last four years, beat her, raped her, called her barren, and had her locked up.

Jamal had a vicious headache as he lay beside his nephew. It wasn’t the kind painkillers could cure. No, this kind sprang from deep-seated grief and helpless rage.

He thought of his sister. Nkeoma who had only been twenty-six and had been full of life, of joy and laughter. Until she met him, insisted she would marry him, and wouldn’t tell Jamal about the abuse.

When he finally found out and got her out of there, she went back to him because he swore he’d changed.

She died from a head injury barely a month later.

He couldn’t save Nkeoma. But, by all that he held sacred, Jamal would see that no one again hurt Gazie.

The muffled noise broke into his thoughts, and he sat up to listen.

It was Gazie sobbing.

Quick as lightning, Jamal was off the bed and out of his room. He was inside hers in a minute.

She was curled up into a ball, crying in her sleep.

Again, it required no thought or reason. Jamal went to her, touched her shoulder, and gently shook her. “Gazie. Sweet one, wake up. It’s only a bad dream.”

The endearment slipped out without him knowing he’d uttered it.

*-*

“Sweet one.”

The affectionate phrase lured Gazie out of the nightmare where Kambili was lashing her with his belt.

Jamal stared at her with the gentlest expression on his face.

When she cried out in her sleep, Kambili complained and called her names, even though he was the reason behind her nightmares.

“Did I disturb you?” she asked. Then she remembered the little boy. “Oh, I hope I did not wake Otito.”

“No. When he’s out, he rarely surfaces until morning.” He stroked her face. “Are you all right, sweet one?”

Sweet one.

No one addressed her by a pet name. Or cared if she was all right after a nightmare, or after they had hurt her. Gazie wondered if she might still be asleep.

“Am I awake?” she asked him.

He smiled. And looked so handsome.

“You had a nightmare. But yes, you’re awake. What was it about?”

She winced as her memory went back. “He found me, dragged me back to his house, and used his belt on me. It was his chosen punishment last year after he discovered I was hiding in a market stall. He thrashed me with his belt and locked me in a room for days.”

“He’s a beast. The man is an actual beast.”

The horror in his eyes assured Gazie that she need never fear he’d treat her the same way.

“I’m scared he will find me again. I’m thinking now I didn’t go very far. If you could spare me a little money, I’ll go someplace else. Maybe to Kwale. Or I could go west to Lagos or Ibadan.”

“You’re not going anywhere else, Gazie. This is where your running ends. If he finds you, I won’t let him take you away.”

It didn’t seem possible that he could stop Kambili. It wasn’t a question of physical strength.

“It could be he won’t discover my hiding place. What can he come looking for in a village like this? I’m going to hold on to that faith.”

“Do that, Gazie. Stay positive. Will you like anything before going back to sleep?”

“Uh…”

In his arms earlier, she’d felt warm and secure. He’d smelled of soap, the same one she could smell on her skin, and something else so masculine.

She couldn’t ask him to hold her. It wouldn’t be right. Not that she knew why it would be so wrong. She wasn’t Kambili’s wife, though he liked to make that claim.

“Are you troubled?”

Ah, God, he was waiting for her answer to his question. Why did he make her think things and wish for them? That’s never once happened to her.

“Yes. I’m not sure I can tell you, though.” She could have lied and said no, but she detested lies.

“You can tell me anything, Gazie.”

His voice was deep and strong, yet soft to her ears.

“I can’t tell you this one. I’m going to go back to sleep. I might toss and turn for a while, but eventually I’ll fall asleep.”

“You’re such an innocent, aren’t you?” He gave her face one last stroke and rose. “I hope you quickly fall asleep and don’t have to toss and turn. Goodnight again, Gazie.”

“Goodnight, Jamal.”

She closed her eyes and pressed a hand to her stomach. It fluttered in a funny manner. And her skin was so warm.

Sweet one.

She wanted him to call her that again.

Thinking of it, wishing for it, Gazie fell asleep.

The next morning when she woke up, Jamal and Otito already did and were in the bathroom. The door was ajar, so she noticed he was getting set to bathe Otito.

She greeted, walked in and offered, “I’ll bathe him. I’m sure he won’t mind. You won’t, will you, Otito?”

The boy shook his head, although his gaze scrutinised her. No doubt pondering who she was and from where she came.

“If you both are sure, I’ll take myself off to the kitchen.” He handed over the sponge. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did, thank you.”

“Glad to hear it,” he said and walked away.

Her attention on the boy, Gazie began in a chatty voice as she applied soap to the sponge. “You were asleep when I arrived last night.”

Soon it was the boy leading the conversation. It turned out he was four, in kindergarten class and quite the chatterbox. She’d always welcomed her inability to conceive, no matter how much Kambili derided her for it. But if life were to give her a man like Jamal, she would have loved to have his child. Or children.

That thought stayed with her while they had breakfast, and a girl called Muanya came over to take Otito to school. She was his babysitter, Jamal told her.

“She’s leaving for Lagos next week. I’ll need to find someone else to take care of Otito while I’m at work pretty fast.”

“I can do it,” Gazie said, without giving it a thought. “I mean, I hope I’ll still be here, and if I am, I’d like to take care of him.”

He sent her a thoughtful glance.

They were in the kitchen and though she offered to do it; he insisted on doing the dishes. It was obvious he was a man who didn’t mind kitchen duties.

That was another new experience for Gazie.

“Won’t you prefer to work?” he asked.

“You mean do a job and earn a salary?” When he nodded, Gazie got excited. “I’d like to earn money of my own.”

“I’m sure you would.” He smiled. “Tell me, what can you do?”

“I cook the most delicious dishes. If you’d let me cook this morning, you’d have had a taste. I also bake. I love baking more than I do cooking, in fact.”

“Cook. Bake. I know the place for you.” He wiped his hands with a napkin, hung it back on the rope, and said, “Let’s go.”

Happy and excited, Gazie followed him. It was a walking distance. But they went in his car, as he’d go from there to work.

Sitting beside him, listening to him and talking to him, Gazie fell like it was the very first day of her life as a person.

As a woman.

Welcome back Ma'am.

Glad to read from you again.

kingphilip:
Welcome back Ma'am.

Glad to read from you again.

Hello, King. Glad to hear from you too.

Her Shield #3

He had her settled at Kora’s Beta Food Restaurant, and could go about his day.

The bar opened six to eleven p.m. every day, except for Fridays, when they closed at midnight. They never open on Sundays.

As it was a Friday, which meant an extra busy night, he had twice the amount of work to do. Market duties took more time with double orders for fresh fish, pork and chicken.

He was in the kitchen with his boys, Makanwa and Ikenna, until lunchtime. Then he left them to go check on Gazie.

Jamal was confident Kora would allow no one to hurt her, but she was under his care and he wasn’t going to take his eyes off her.

Not until he ensured the beast left her life for good.

He used the backdoor into the restaurant and found her at the charcoal stove. Her face brightened with a smile the moment she caught sight of him.

“Madam Kora entrusted the frying of meat to me. There’s so much of it to go through, but I love it.”

“As the number one restaurant in the village, there’s got to be a lot.” He liked seeing her there, doing a job she loved and happy. “I’ll see Kora and get back to work myself.”

“She’s inside the dining hall,” she told him, then gave a wave.

Jamal lingered another couple of seconds at the door, just watching her. Then he moved into the dining area to seek Kora out.

The woman was sitting at a corner table close to the service station. Jamal knew that was her usual spot when she wasn’t supervising matters in the kitchen.

“You don’t come to my restaurant at this time, so you must be here to see your girl.”

She was a woman with impressive height, and Jamal liked to think, impressive beauty. She’d married once, divorced, took her daughter and made her life there in Hilly Town.

She never dated, at least Jamal had never seen or heard of a man in her life. It could be she was done with men, or just taking a break. Whichever, she was one of the few people Jamal trusted in the village.

“Gazie’s not my girl,” he corrected, though he knew she was teasing. “How’s she doing?”

“A fast learner. And not afraid of work. I asked for her story.” Kora shook her head. “I keep thinking people will stop this awful nonsense of using a human being to pay their debts, but it never ends. How could he?”

Jamal understood she meant the uncle and shrugged. “He has to be a lazy fool with zero morals.”

“I agree. See here, if it’s going to be too much trouble to keep her in your house, I’ll take her. I’ll look after her and see that she’s safe.”

The offer came from a place of genuine compassion, and Kora had to be thinking of the fact that Gazie was a young woman. If she lived with a single man who wasn’t a relative, there’d be gossip and that would put a smear on her reputation.

But Jamal didn’t want Gazie away from him. That was a more important fact.

“I’ve no trouble at all having her in my house. As it is, I have the idea of furnishing the last bedroom for her.”

“That’s generous. But folks will automatically brand her your woman if she stays with you. That won’t do her any good when she has to move on, or you decide to marry.”

His woman.

Jamal thought of those few minutes when he had her in his arms. Of when he sat on her bed and listened to her talk in a quiet, almost whispery voice.

“It’s really up to her,” he said, halting his thoughts right there. “Let’s call her to decide.”

“Ndidi,” Kora called one of her workers. “Ask Gazie to join us and take over from her.”

The girl Ndidi, just about Gazie’s age, went off and Gazie made her way towards them a moment later.

Never one to waste time or words, Kora put forward the question. “You’re a young woman, and although you’ve not had much exposure, you must know how people talk. Would you rather live with me or continue to stay with Jamal?”

“You want me to live with you?” she asked Kora in surprise.

“Yes. You can work here and live with me.”

She looked at Jamal. “Don’t you want me anymore in your house? You promised you will keep me safe and away from Kambili.”

His chest tightened, and his body heated at her soulful gaze. “I will keep you safe and away from that beast. If you like to go on staying with me, you’re most welcome. We’re only thinking of your reputation. We don’t want people to malign your name and character.”

“I don’t know that many people. Plus, no one ever came to my help. Even those who lived around Kambili and must have guessed what he was doing to me.” She lifted her chin a fraction in a stubborn tilt. “People are going to say what they want. But I prefer to stay with you and Otito. No one else.”

“Well, now,” Kora said, and with a faint smile.

Gazie quickly faced her. “Madam Kora, it’s not that I’m ungrateful for your offer. You’ve treated me so kindly today and you still want to do more for me. So, I’m truly grateful to you. But I want to stay with Jamal and Otito.”

“Then you should stay with them. As I know the man Jamal is, I’m assured he will take care of you and keep you protected.”

“That’s all I want,” Gazie said, and looked at him with a soft smile.

Ah, lord, she was so guileless, so honest and open with her thoughts and feelings. He was in trouble. The kind of trouble where it would be near impossible to keep her safe from himself.

Jamal went back to the bar, thinking of the different ways he could employ to remember his duty.

He could try recalling daily she was only twenty-two, therefore too young for him. There was also the fact she would need all the time in the world to heal from her past.

Like always, it was a busy night, only busier than usual. The place was packed full, like people were in the thank God it’s Friday spirit.

As he did most Fridays, Jamal manned the bar and took extra help from Ikenna’s younger brother, Udoka. He just turned seventeen, so he never failed to send him home at nine.

Which was what he was doing now and with the boy’s earnings for the night. Ready to take a break, Jamal left Makanwa to take charge of the bar and joined Nedu at his table.

Chinedu Anozie, a.k.a. Nedu, was a man he thought of as his best buddy. He was the same age as Jamal, which made him thirty-three. They ran and exercised together every morning, and he was the most gifted carpenter Jamal knew.

Right now, he was on his second bottle for the night. He would go for a third and then hit the road. That was Nedu’s way. Three bottles of beer and grilled pork.

“There’s talk you took a girl in last night,” Nedu began in his usual casual manner. “There’s also talk you took her from Obata and he’s not pleased about it.”

“Let Obata go and eat shit.” Jamal knew Obata would blabber. He also knew he would make threats. Neither bothered him.

“It’s what I thought too.” A wicked gleam entered Nedu’s eyes. “So, who is she?”

He was a good friend because they’d fought shoulder to shoulder for whatever cause they believed in, and because Nedu understood loyalty and honour. So, he had all of Jamal’s confidence.

“Her name is Gazie. She’s on the run.”

Nedu took that bit of information with a hum. “Who or what is after her?”

“A man who thinks himself her owner.”

“There’s a man out there who believes he owns a person?” Nedu scoffed. “I want the story on that.”

Jamal gave it to him as he’d heard it.

“Nefarious fools,” Nedu cursed, slamming his fist none too gently on the table. “Someone should teach both of them a person is not an object to be traded.”

“Someone should.” It would be him, Jamal vowed. “The man is in his forties, easily twenty years her senior. Yet, he beat, raped and imprisoned her.”

“Animal. He’s an animal wearing human flesh.”

“She’s terrified he would find and take her back.”

“Not on our watch,” Nedu said, as Jamal knew he would. “Now, I would say find out where he is and take the fight to him, but you’re yet to know how far you will go—”

“I will go all the way, Nedu. That’s already certain.”

Nedu snorted. “She only came into your life last night. You can’t be that certain.”

“I will go all the way, Nedu,” Jamal repeated.

“I’ve never known you to be impetuous, so I won’t think you’re one now. Have you thought about how much this could cost you, and cost you big? You don’t know the weight of the man yet. He might be the sort with some power behind him.”

“He’s still a beast who abused a defenceless young girl.” But he understood Nedu’s concern and held his gaze. “I’m ready for whatever, Nedu. Trouble comes and I await it.”

Nedu touched his shoulder in support. “You don’t await it alone. I’m with you, you know that.”

They chinked their bottles and took satisfying gulps.

“They also say she’s a beauty. Maybe I will have lunch at Kora’s tomorrow; see how true that story goes.”

“Not a bad idea. But she’s mine, and I’ve got this big bad feeling it’s not just so I’d protect her.”

“Well, now,” Nedu said, and laughed.