Merry Christmas guys

*****


"Take off your shirt." She ordered.

Patrick could barely keep his eyes in one position, as he watched her frantically move from one end of the room to the other. He could still feel the scorch of the burn on his chest, but he didn't doubt it would die down in a bit.

"Adun, I promise I'll be fine." He repeated once again. He had been saying that since he calmed from the initial shock of being attacked by a hot cup of tea, but none of his assurances had appeased her.

"I need to be sure, Patrick. Just, take it off, please." She responded, as she retrieved a box from the top of a wardrobe on the far side of the room.

He didn't make a move, unwilling to take off his shirt in her presence. There were some things Patrick had prepared for as regards Adunni, but getting half naked in her presence was not one of them, and definitely not tonight.

She moved over to him with the box, and stopped when she found he still had his shirt on, seemingly perplexed, "I thought I told you to take off your shirt, why's it still on?"

He opened his mouth to speak, but no words escaped his lips, because there weren't any words for what he wanted to tell her.

She shook her head, "You know what…?" She marched up to him, and reached for the buttons of his shirt, but Patrick's hand caught her by the wrist.

"Wait!"

Her brows furrowed in concern this time, "What's wrong?"

He looked up at her, right into her worried eyes, and his words once again failed him, as for the first time that night, it occurred to him that he was in a tight spot. There was no escaping this; he either had to let her take off his shirt, or explain why he stopped her...either way, he was spilling tonight, and it couldn't be helped.

He slowly let go of her wrist, dropping his hand to his side. She narrowed her eyes at him, but Patrick looked away.

"I just…I just need to tend to it quickly, okay?" She said softly, as she began to unbutton his shirt, "You could get a large swelter if I don't, and you don't want that on your skin." She chuckled softly, but it lacked mirth, and was filled with nervousness.

He didn't respond to her, not while she unbuttoned the last of the buttons on his shirt, and pushed the shirt off his shoulders. They were bare though, in all of his adventures, he had managed to not get any skin injury on his shoulders. There was a dislocation once, some three years ago, but it was nothing he couldn't reset himself.

"Let's see…" she paused, as she pushed off the rest of his shirt, and her eyes met with the scars.

They weren't a lot, he had seen worse on street kids half his age, but he knew they were more than a lot of adults had seen, especially those that had always had comfortable lives.

"Wow…" she muttered softly, it was the only thing she said at first, and he waited for more. He expected a barrage of questions, questions he didn't have ready answers to, questions that would revive memories he wanted permanently buried.

She didn't give him that.

"... let's just...take care of this…" she said, as she reached for an item in the first aid box, and went straight for the part of his chest the tea had spilled. The scald she spoke of had begun to form, the scorching had not reduced, it stung. She squeezed a substance on her hand, and slowly rubbed it over the area. The cooling effect was instant, causing Patrick to wonder about it.

Her touch was delicate, as though she feared she would hurt him, and he had a feeling such fears had little to do with this injury.

"What happened to you?" She asked softly, after a while of just rubbing at his chest.

He shrugged, "Life... sometimes, we have to do certain things to get by, dangerous things…" he trailed off, hoping he would not have to elaborate on what those things could be. He chuckled, the sound lacking mirth to it, "None of it hurts anymore though." He stated, daring to look up into her eyes for the first time since she saw his scars.

Just as he feared, there was that look of pity. He was a bit thankful she was trying to hide it, but Patrick had been the recipient of that look one too many times, to not notice when someone felt pity for him. It was not a look he would ever get used to or enjoy, especially not from the woman he wanted to make a great impression on.

"Adun, don't look at me like that, please." He stated firmly, as he swallowed to ease the tightness in his throat.

"Don't look at you like what?" She asked innocently, as she hiked up the skirt of her dress and slowly climbed atop him, her knees on both sides of his thighs.

Patrick stared at her wide-eyed and gulped again, but this time, the tightness in his throat was for a different reason, and the look in her eyes...it was different, "Like…" he found himself fishing for the right words in his muddled up brain. The flowery scent of her perfume assaulted his nose, her butt settled on his thighs, inches away from his growing bulge, messed with his head in ways he had not thought it could be messed with.

Her dainty fingers danced along his jawline, stroking his cheek as he struggled to control his own breathing, her doe eyes searched his face, as if finding his features intriguing, "Like what?" She asked softly once again.

He had long forgotten what he had wanted to say. His train of thought had missed more than a few stops, and he was now wandering in a wilderness she had created the moment she got on top him, "Like that." He responded.

Patrick watched as she lowered her head towards his, his heart beating so loudly in his chest, he swore it rang in his ears. Her lips brushed against his delicately, teasingly, and he had to grip the sheets to stop himself from gripping her.

She was kind enough to not lengthen her teasing….or eager, whichever one it was, the bliss he experienced as her lips pressed against his, was unexplainable. It felt like a burst of energy zipped through his body, pushing him into instantaneous delirium.

His lips moved as she guided, and as she deepened the kiss, her tongue snaking out to dance against the barrier that was his lips, and easing into his mouth, Patrick lost what was left of his sense of control, and grabbed her waist, pulling her up against him.

The movement was so sharp and swift, she unintentionally brushed her centre against his hard-on, eliciting a gasp from her lips.

He suddenly flipped her over, so that her back was on the bed and he now hovered above her. Patrick had little idea of what he was doing, outside the fact that he shouldn't be doing it. That was what the logical side of him was saying, and it was right. This was risky, this was not what he had come for, and somehow, it wouldn't be right to bed Adun as this version of himself; this somewhat made up version of him. She was attracted to a successful man, who had transcended life's challenges and established himself as a top level accountant in one of the most successful firms in the country. She was attracted to a man who could walk into any room, and command authority.

That was the ideal man, but that man was not him.

Yet, as she pulled him closer, trapping him between her legs, as her deft fingers slipped to his buckle to rid him of his trousers, as her skirt rode higher, exposing more of those dark, luscious thighs he had seen in one too many wet dreams, Patrick wanted to be that man.

He would be that man for her, just for tonight. As they got lost in the pleasures only their bodies could offer, the euphoria masking whatever pain he had felt only minutes earlier from that burn, Patrick realised this was who he wanted, but not as this made up man.

She deserved to know.

He would let her know.

Whatever happened tomorrow, before he walked out of her house, he would lay himself bare before her and deal with the consequences.

Finally , the episode I've been waiting for...

Patrick literally " sealed the deal".

Thanks OP

Merry Christmas everyone

Merry Christmas princess

Beautiful story

Thanks for this masterpiece.

safarigirl:
Chapter One- The Beginning


How fast can you run to save your own life?

Some might say as fast as the fastest man alive, some may say as fast as Flash, the comic superhero, some may say as fast as a bullet train.

You never really know how fast you can run in such a situation until you’re faced with it. Until there’s just you and that possibility staring face to face and you could either conquer it, or it conquers you. But let’s be real here, what are the possibilities of conquering death? What are the chances of an average human being against an angry mob?

Well, Patrick was about to find out, and hopefully, he would live to tell a tale on it.

Heavy feet hit the ground, packing dust as it lifted off like a tractor. Rivulets of sweat streamed down taut brown skin, occasionally entering fidgety brown eyes or hanging on to lashes that were enviably long. Harsh breaths escaped flared nostrils trying to grasp what it exerted from humid air. Sharp ears had long ago blocked out the sound of an irate mob few metres away and replaced that sound with a hollow sound, only a thudding heart resounded within the chambers of both ears.

He had never done this before, it had been an emergency. His naiveté had been exposed before he could move far and now, he was running for his life as angry men and women, people who probably didn’t care for the shop owner on a normal day but were just looking for something to light up a slow and boring day , chased after him with various clubs, all looking to get his blood on their clubs. His blood.

What would happen if he died today? Would all of the suffering end? Was there somewhere better on the other side? If there was, had he not ruined it all for himself by stealing? More importantly, what would happen to his only living relative? The person for whom he was now being chased by this mob. What would become of Veronica?

Sturdy feet seemed to move faster at that thought, he needed to stay alive, he needed to get her the loaf of bread in his hand, so she could get better. He wouldn’t die today and certainly not because of a measly loaf of bread.

His arms pumped, his body not giving up on him. working out had it’s advantages he guessed. The fact that he had long, built legs on a 6 ft. 3” frame also helped. Not that he ever envisioned using these attributes in such a situation.

He rounded a corner, hoping that would get a few people off his track, and then cut through another narrow space. He could still hear them, but they weren’t as loud anymore. Just a few more corners. He thought. He jumped over a low fence and found himself in the large parking lot of the newly renovated part of Karu market- the fancy area.

He moved to the many rows of cars, the parking lot was full today, lots of people were preparing for Salah and had come shopping for foodstuff. He could use this to his advantage.

He moved through the cars, his heart still racing as his eyes constantly darted to the fence. Any moment now and someone would be jumping over that fence, he could feel it. He just had to find where to hide until the ruckus died down.

He tried pulling at the handles of random cars, hoping that someone had carelessly left a door open, it certainly was not a likelihood in Nigeria, but considering how terribly his day had gone so far, something had to give. His feet moved faster along with his hands. He briefly considered abandoning this plan and just running to the roadside, but what were the chances he wouldn’t run into someone who had been part of the mob chasing him?

He felt nervous sweat run down his face, he would make it. he just needed to find an open car.

Just as the thought came to his head, the door of the backseat of a car suddenly clicked open. He stared at the partially opened door for a moment, stunned at his unreal luck. Had this car just opened? Seriously? Before he could wrap his head around the occurrence, he saw the first person with a stick jumping over the fence. He swiftly ducked and flew into the backseat of the car, closing the door behind him.

He managed to squeeze his large frame on the floor of the car and waited for the mob to disperse.

The loaf of bread he had gone through all this trouble for was now squeezed in his large hand. It was just a flimsy loaf of bread, not worth more than fifty naira at the most. Why did everyone have to make so much fuss over it? he hadn’t taken it from the shop of a poor man. He had watched that shop for a full ten minutes. It was a large one, fit to be a supermarket. There were goods worth five thousand naira and above in there, the measly fifty naira bread was an eyesore in such splendor.

It was nothing the owner would miss.

To think the same person had organized this mob to haunt him down and possibly kill him for something that insignificant shook him to the core….but he wasn’t a thief, he was just….unfortunate.

He had tried, he had tried hard and anyone, no matter how stone-hearted would appreciate that. He had reached his breaking point today, he hadn’t had anything to eat in two days and that was just fine by him, but Veronica couldn’t starve and he couldn’t find something to do to get him the needed money on time.

It had killed him to watch his sister writhe and groan in her sleep all of last night having only ate barely a cup of garri, the last thing he could provide, earlier in the morning. She had ulcer, she couldn’t take her medications because she hadn’t had anything to eat. What he fed her was far from ideal for her condition and it was a miracle she was still alive after all of the abuse her system had been put through. He had tried to ask those who lived around them for food or money, but no one would give him the time of day. He was a young and strong man, he could go out and find something to do, but none of them would volunteer to look after Veronica in his absence. They were all selfish people

Even this bread, this damned bread in his hand, was not what she needed, but it was all he could get.

He tried to even his breathing and enable his hearing. Some people were around, they were walking through the parking lot. They were looking for him.

He closed his eyes and muttered a prayer. God wouldn’t let him die today. He hadn’t seen twenty-seven years to die like this. He hadn’t been through eight hard years with Veronica to die like this. She still needed him, she had no one else but him. God couldn’t punish him like this and God wouldn’t punish Veronica like this either.

He waited for some more time, he didn’t know how long passed, but he soon stopped hearing the voices, and then there was silence. Sweet, beautiful, blissful silence.

Patrick closed his eyes and said a small prayer of thanks to God, he could leave now.

He suddenly heard another voice- no, two voices, and they were female. What was going on now? The voices were coming closer and another kind of fear seized Patrick’s heart. Could he run for it? they would see him before he could even open the door.

The boot of the car suddenly opened up and he ducked to hide himself, gritting his teeth at his large frame. Right now, he wished he was much smaller and inconspicuous.

The women were chattering with excitement as they loaded some items into the opened boot, unaware of the stranger in the car. Something about an upcoming birthday party, he was really not interested in their conversation, his mind was running a mile a minute, thinking up all the excuses he could make for being inside their car. He could only pray they wouldn’t scream too loud and attract unwanted attention. There had to be some understanding person in the world today.

He waited patiently as they closed the boot after loading it and made their way to the car doors, “Jesus, I can’t believe I forgot to lock this car.” The first woman spoke once she made the shocking discovery.

“Ha! Sister, why so careless? I hope you didn’t leave any valuables inside it o, you can never trust the people around here, even the so-called security people are very shady.” The other said as they opened the doors and entered the car.

“Hmm, I left nothing of value inside thankfully, don’t mind me and my forgetfulness.” She hissed and reached for her seatbelt.

Just as they moved to fasten the seatbelt, the lady in the passenger’s seat caught sight of the male form on the floor of the car, she peered down at the form inquisitively and let out a loud shriek once she confirmed it really was a man

Patrick suddenly sat up with raised arms, “Please don’t shout, please. I’m not armed, I won’t hurt you please.” He tried to calm the two hysterical women down as the one in the driver’s seat had joined her sister in their screaming match. He knew he probably didn’t look like someone whose words should be taken seriously, but…..for the love of God something had to go right for him today!

“Get out! Get out!” the one in the passenger’s seat said, hitting him repeatedly with her handbag.

He blocked the hits with one arm while he struggled to find the door handle with his other, “I’m going, please don’t scream, I didn’t steal anything.” He begged. Inwardly, he prayed no one else could hear their screams.

He finally managed to push the door open and stumbled out of the car rather haphazardly, still clutching the loaf of bread like his life depended on it. The two women simply ignored him and the one in the driver’s seat started her car.

He fell onto the gravel and watched the car zoom off without the back door closing properly.

He watched the dust it left behind for a while, rather dazed at what had just happened. Nervous eyes turned left and right to determine if anyone had witnessed the embarrassing incident, once he was sure the parking lot was fairly empty, he let out a small sigh of relief and stood up.

He wiped the gathering sweat off thick eyebrows and let out a deep sigh as he dusted the back of his trousers, but the sound of laughter halted his movements almost immediately. Was someone laughing at him?

He turned around swiftly to find a fairly old woman with a head full of salt and pepper hair, laughing boisterously. Her head was thrown back and she had wrinkling hands upon her chest as her opened mouth exposed gleaming white teeth. He furrowed his brows at her, wondering what this woman found so funny.

He noticed her appearance; she was dressed in a pair of plain, black trousers and a lemon green chiffon top, on her feet were simple, nude colored sandals that made the yellow polish on her toe nails pop. She looked regal, nothing like the kind of woman that should be around here. Small things stood out in her appearance, like the gleaming ring on her finger; he was no expert in jewels, but he was certain that had to be some authentic diamond. Even the simple, silver chain around her gazelle-like neck had a turquoise pendant that probably cost something.

He watched her continue to laugh for a while, unable to move, not just because he thought her laugh sounded beautiful, but he really was interested in knowing what had her laughing this hard.

She finally quelled the laughter to look at him with mirth-filled eyes, one hand came up to her left eye to wipe a tear that had escaped from it, “Oh my goodness….oh, heavens! I haven’t laughed like that in ages boy, you are a delight.” She said and then resumed her laughter in light chuckles.

Okay, so she had apparently been the sole audience in that brief scene, but why was she laughing? Why wasn’t she berating him or acting cautious around him like others would? Why was she openly laughing at him? He was easily twice her size and much younger, so, he was in a good position to hurt her if he really was a bad person. Her laughter intrigued him.

“That…..whatever just happened there, that was hilarious. What were you doing in a stranger’s car?” she asked

He wasn’t sure if that was a rhetorical question or if she truly expected a reply from him, what did she think he was doing there? Listening to the news on radio?

He shook his head at her and turned around to be on his way, tired of being the unwilling source of some lady's amusement. Veronica would be waiting for him, he had no time to stand here staring at people whose mental condition couldn’t be determined.

“Wait, wait please. Why so much in a hurry?” the woman called after him as he began walking, but he ignored her, choosing to move a bit faster, “Wait boy, I have something for you.” She spoke up.

Those words stopped him in his steps and he turned back once again to find her approaching him. This time, she was reaching into a small sling bag he hadn’t noticed. His brow cocked in interest, what was she reaching for?

She finally got to where he was standing and smiled at him, her smile was as beautiful as her laugh. She was a very pretty woman, no doubt about it, “I just want to thank you for that scene today, I honestly haven’t laughed that good in a while. Here, please take this for your troubles.”

He didn’t notice the money in her hand and didn’t look down to acknowledge whatever she was handing to him as his face remained on hers, until she took his free hand and put the paper in his larger palm.

He finally looked down at it and his eyes widened at the sight of five pieces of one thousand naira notes. He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen this much money. For the first time since he saw the woman, he finally found a purpose for his vocal chords, he shook his head vehemently, “I’m sorry ma, I can’t accept this. I don’t need your free money, thank you.” It pained him greatly to speak those words especially as he did in fact need any form of money he was given at this stage, but he didn’t know this woman from wherever.

She shook her head at him, “Whoever said it was free money, you just provided me with priceless entertainment, this is a small token of my appreciation. Take it” she patted his arm and turned to leave, but he followed her.

“No, ma. Please, take it back, I really don’t need it.”

“Young man, use it to buy yourself something to eat. I don’t think that tiny bread you have in your hand can sustain someone as big as you are.”

Her mention of his bread took his eyes back to the item that nearly cost him his life less than an hour ago. It was now totally squeezed and barely resembled something fit for even a dog. He frowned, he would have to straighten out the bread somehow before he got home.

“Madam….”

Her sudden stop made him pause in his words, she turned around and looked him up and down with a sudden gleam to her eyes. She walked up to him and gave him a thoughtful look, “How old are you young man?” she asked.

He furrowed his brows, what sort of question was that? Should he give her the correct answer? He briefly considered lying to her, but her elderly status and the fact that he most likely wouldn’t see her again after today, changed that thought, “Twenty- eight.” He replied cautiously.

“Perfect!” she beamed at him, “I’ll tell you what, Mr….?”

Her pause sought an answer, and he supplied her one without a thought, “Patrick.”

“Patrick, what a lovely name. I’ll tell you what Mr. Patrick, if after some days you still feel guilty about getting free money from an old lady, come by my house or call me and I guarantee you, I will give you a job worthy of this pay. Do we have a deal?” she asked

He watched her scribble something he assumed was her phone number and house address on a sheet of paper, his mind still in a haze as to what exactly was happening. Was she implying an actual job perhaps? This was almost surreal.

She finally finished writing whatever she put down and looked up at him, she handed him the paper, but he made no move to collect it from her, “Go on, take it.” she urged.

He slowly reached out and collected the paper from her, still giving her a wary look. He looked down at what was on the paper and sure enough it was a phone number and house address. She lived in Garki, how did she get here all the way from Garki?

“I look forward to your call or visit.” She said.

He took his eyes away from the paper long enough to watch her leave. She went to a small, but undoubtedly expensive car. From his vantage point, he could tell it was a Mercedes- Benz, he couldn’t say the model, but it looked new. She pressed a button on the key and the car unlocked.

She turned to him one last time to drop a final compliment, “And Patrick…”

“Ma?”

“You’re a very good-looking young man, any woman should scream with joy if she finds you in her car.” She said, her head tossed back once again in laughter even as she ducked to enter her car.

Patrick just stood in the parking lot, staring until she started the car, gave him one last wave and drove off. He gave the events of the day one last thought before slipping the paper in his hand into his back pocket.

That act reminded him of the money in his hand, five thousand naira. He could actually use this to make some decent food for himself and Veronica for the first time in weeks. He grinned at the money, but his face fell when he remembered the bread in his hands.

A feeling of disdain passed through him at the sight of the bread, this damned loaf of flour had nearly cost him his life today…. And still, it led him to meet this woman. He frowned at the piece of bread and tossed it away in anger, today, Veronica deserved to be fed like a princess and the measly piece of bread simply wouldn’t cut it.

Thank God for Miracles

your use of grammar is highly commendable; the story already got interesting even before it started, i will be following keenly.

Rockyrascal:
your use of grammar is highly commendable; the story already got interesting even before it started, i will be following keenly.

Lol, and you had to quote the entire post ehn

micxwell:

Lol, and you had to quote the entire post ehn

my bad

How did I meet this beautiful story.

Ride on OP... You're really doing well

Safarigirl... Please update.

*sorry for the late update. The next part was in my system and the system has been acting up****


Ideally, the morning after what was possibly, the best night she had spent with any man, should have welcomed her with the rays of the sun hitting her face. She would let out a cute yawn, and then smile at the memory of the night before, while cuddling deeper into the warmth of his embrace.

At least that's how they wrote it in the romance novels.

She had read a record number of such novels, and none of them featured a loud, insistent banging at her door.

Adunni rose out of bed as fast as lightning, when the knocking wouldn't stop. Patrick was right next to her, he was so alert, it was like he hadn't been asleep when the knocking started.

Who the hell was that and how did they get past her security man? She shared a look of confusion with Patrick, "Are you expecting anyone?"

She shook her head, "No one who knocks like that."

She slowly got out of bed and tied a robe around her form. It was only when she began walking, that the familiar tingle between her legs rocked her frame, reminding her of just what she had gotten up to last night; at least something corresponded with the scenarios painted in books.

She would have been fighting back a mischievous smile, if that damned knocking wasn't setting off all the wrong buttons in her neurological system.

"Who's that?" She asked as she neared the front door.

"Adunni open the door"

What the hell? Kenneth? Did this man not understand when he wasn't wanted? Why would he show up to her house at this time, in this manner?

"Kenneth, why are you here?

"Is he with you? It's his car parked outside, isn't it?"

He had some nerve questioning her about who she invited into her home, especially considering he had no right to even be here.

She had given him enough leeway, it was time she addressed Kenneth with the firmness his consistent stalking required. Perhaps, she had been far too mild all this time and he had interpreted her civility for acquiescence to his advances.

She flung the door open, her face fixed in a scowl, "Who the hell do you think you are, knocking on my door so loudly, Mr. Agbo?" She asked coldly.

"You don't know who you're messing with Adunni, that man..” he pointed aggressively past her, “… that man you have in your house is not who he says he is."

Adunni scoffed, folding her arms across her chest. Kenneth looked rather disheveled, his face was a bit flushed, as he spoke, "Jealousy is an ugly look on anyone, Kenneth, especially you"

He shook his head, "This isn't jealousy, Adunni. This is facts. That man….Patrick or whatever, he's not who he says he is, he's a fraud and I have all the information you need to prove it, in this document" he said, as he waved a file at her.

She glanced at the file. He had to be out of his mind, if he thought this attempt at discrediting Patrick would sail. Kenneth was so desperate, he could have come up with anything to get Patrick out of his way, "Oh?"

"The man was a nobody five months ago. He lived in some uncompleted building and had nothing, until his life was transformed, by your mother"

The mention of her mother, caused the smug smile that had been dancing on Adunni's lips to falter. Her mother? What did Folashade Oche have to do with any of this? "What are you talking about, Kenneth?"

"I am talking about Patrick Umeh being a fraud, a lowlife opportunist who was pulled out of the dregs of nothingness by your mother, and given the task of making you fall for him. You were setup Adunni, by your mother, and he was in on it. She created a grand plan to get you to fall for that man, in a bid to hook you up with someone. He's just a puppet. The car and the house are not his, he got them from your mother, his current job was secured for him by your mother. He is just a really good actor, he's not the man for you or anyone at all"

Adunni couldn't find the words with which to respond to such accusations. She was mortified by the mere possibility that all of this had been a grand scheme.

Kenneth used her silence to further solidify his case, "Look…." He began, as he opened the folder in his hand, "I have pictures of him, with your mother, in your family house, look how comfortable they seem. Just look at these" he stated, as he turned the pictures to her.

Adunni felt her eyes water, she took a shaky step back and shuddered as she felt her breath seize. No. This wasn't true. Maybe it was just a coincidence that he happened to know her mother. He had never mentioned her, even when she spoke of her fondly, he acted like he had no idea who she was and was genuinely enraptured by fond tales of her mother.

"Adun, who is it?" The topic of their discussion emerged from her bedroom, his voice laden with concern.

Adunni was far too immersed in her state of shock to respond to him, but Kenneth wouldn't miss the chance.

“The man you tried to steal her from.”

Patrick’s features hardened at first, at the sight of Kenneth, however, before he could give the invasive man a retort, he noticed Adun’s shaky form. His brows furrowed in concern, “Adun, what’s the…”

“Is it true?” she asked, before he could finish.

He seemed even more confused by her question, as he cocked his head to the side inquisitively, “Is what, true?”

She suddenly snatched the pictures from Kenneth, “This…” she said, as she shoved them in Patrick’s face, “This…” she showed him another picture, “…this…” and another, “…all of it…” she finished, as she tossed the pictures at his now stiff form, “..is it true? Have you been playing me all this time?”

Adun was not sure what she expected, but the brief silence, and the pure shame that clouded his features told her all she needed to know in that moment, “Adun, listen, I know what it looks like…”
Kenneth scoffed loudly, “Oh please…”

“Stay the Bleep out of this, okay?” Patrick thundered at him, with a sharp glare. Kenneth frowned, but applied wisdom this one time, and kept mute.

“Adun…”

“I don’t want to hear it. You lied to me, you deceived me…did you even…do you even like me, or did you just say all of those nice things because it was within your pay?”

He shook his head , “No, I never…I didn’t think…” he paused, as though the reality of his actions were only just awning on him, “…everything I have said to you, since I met you, I have meant, Adunni. I swear to you.”

She felt a tear drop down her cheek, as she shook her head. A part of her wanted to believe him, he looked so contrite, scared even…but, he had lied to her, and this was probably another lie. Maybe his fear was borne out of the fact that his cover had been blown, and he would now lose his means of livelihood, more than the possibility of losing her and their relationship, “Get out.” She said quietly.

“Adun…”

“Pack up your shit, and get the Bleep out of my house Patrick, before I call security on you.” She spoke firmly.
The pain in his eyes was palpable and almost convinced her to let him stay and plead his case, but the ache in her heart couldn’t deal with his continued presence. He looked like he wanted to say more, appeal to her emotional side even, but he must have thought better of it, as he hung his head, and made his way back to the bedroom. She watched with bloodshot eyes, as he walked out some minutes later, fully dressed. He set his gaze on her, but she quickly looked away from him, intent on not falling into the spell he could weave with one look.

Her gaze remained on the floor, as she heard the door open, and then shut. Adun closed her eyes tightly, and forced herself to remain rooted to the spot she was in. The silence in the room was only broken by Kenneth’s voice, “I understand how you must feel right now, Adun. It can be very traumatizing, knowing something we thought was real, isn’t after all. I want you to know, that I’m here for you, if you need to talk about it.” he said, his voice dripping with all the faux concern, he thought she really cared to hear.

Adun shot a glare at Kenneth, “What are you still doing in my house?” she asked, her words filled with derision.

He seemed genuinely surprised to hear her question, “I was only offering…”

“Offering what? Have you not offered enough, Kenneth?” she asked, her words dripping with spite, “Please, get out of my house.” she stated. He remained unmoving for some seconds, far longer than Adun could stand, “Get out!” she screamed. It was enough to jar him out of whatever zone he was stuck in, and have him moving right out the door.

Adun shut it with a loud bang, and locked the door with an aggression that was clearly transferred. She turned around, placing her back to the now locked door, and slid down to the floor, letting her tears pour out.
Of course it was too good to be true.

This kenneth just deserves two by two for head sha. See as the Werey spoil the mood

safarigirl:
*sorry for the late update. The next part was in my system and the system has been acting up****


Ideally, the morning after what was possibly, the best night she had spent with any man, should have welcomed her with the rays of the sun hitting her face. She would let out a cute yawn, and then smile at the memory of the night before, while cuddling deeper into the warmth of his embrace.

At least that's how they wrote it in the romance novels.

She had read a record number of such novels, and none of them featured a loud, insistent banging at her door.

Adunni rose out of bed as fast as lightning, when the knocking wouldn't stop. Patrick was right next to her, he was so alert, it was like he hadn't been asleep when the knocking started.

Who the hell was that and how did they get past her security man? She shared a look of confusion with Patrick, "Are you expecting anyone?"

She shook her head, "No one who knocks like that."

She slowly got out of bed and tied a robe around her form. It was only when she began walking, that the familiar tingle between her legs rocked her frame, reminding her of just what she had gotten up to last night; at least something corresponded with the scenarios painted in books.

She would have been fighting back a mischievous smile, if that damned knocking wasn't setting off all the wrong buttons in her neurological system.

"Who's that?" She asked as she neared the front door.

"Adunni open the door"

What the hell? Kenneth? Did this man not understand when he wasn't wanted? Why would he show up to her house at this time, in this manner?

"Kenneth, why are you here?

"Is he with you? It's his car parked outside, isn't it?"

He had some nerve questioning her about who she invited into her home, especially considering he had no right to even be here.

She had given him enough leeway, it was time she addressed Kenneth with the firmness his consistent stalking required. Perhaps, she had been far too mild all this time and he had interpreted her civility for acquiescence to his advances.

Thanks for the update. It is just when Patrick wanted to confess that Kenneth came. Witches dey for this Life

Thanks for the update ma’am

Thanks for the update. Please come and continue, this suspense is too much.

ifyken:

Thanks for the update. It is just when Patrick wanted to confess that Kenneth came. Witches dey for this Life

Why do you guys behave like this. Why quote the whole thing? Stop occupying unecessary space

Babe wey don fall, don fall.

Las las Mama Shade's hook-up don work

Wonderful update... Thanks a lot

Btw, if anyone quotes another update just to reply it here, this full Nairaland won't contain our fight oo

Thanks for the update

Jsaviour:


Why do you guys behave like this. Why quote the whole thing? Stop occupying unecessary space

I am sorry I will change it immediately

Safarigirl, is the story complete anywhere yet.

Counter24:


Babe wey don fall, don fall.

Las las Mama Shade's hook-up don work

True talk.

Jsaviour:
Safarigirl, is the story complete anywhere yet.

No

This is the only place I'm posting.

Folashade looked out of the window curiously, as the black Lexus parked in her compound. She recognized the car to belong to Adun, but her daughter hadn’t informed her she would be coming over to visit today.

Once upon a time, she had told her she could drop by any time, but Adun was a stickler for schedules and plans. She would never come by, if there wasn’t a scheduled meeting. Seeing her car drive into the compound on a Sunday afternoon, was rather surprising.

She left the window, to go over to the door, just as she noticed her getting out of the car. She was on her way downstairs, when the doorbell rang. She went to the living room, as she heard the housekeeper rush for the door, and open it.
She could hear her express surprise at Adunni’s presence, and her daughter gave her a rather curt response.

Adunni finally made her way into the living room, looking a bit more disheveled than she usually would. Folashade cocked her head to the side, as she noticed that not only was Adun breathing a little harshly, her eyes seemed swollen, most likely from crying. She stood to her feet in concern, “Dunni, what’s the problem? Why are you here? Have you been crying?” she asked, her voice coated in worry.

Adun marched up to her, and reached into her purse for an item, Folashade was curious about the envelope she retrieved from her purse, “I don’t know mother, can you explain what this is about?” she asked, as she pulled out some pictures from the envelope and handed them to her.

Folashade could feel her heart drop in her chest, as soon as she spotted the first image. Still, with shaky hands, she took the pictures and looked at them, one after the other. Her gaze drifted to her daughter, whose eyes had begun to water. Folashade sighed, “Honey, I was only trying to help…”

“Help?!” Adunni thundered at her, “By manipulating me? By meddling in my life? How do you think it helped me?”

Shade shook her head, refusing the idea that she had manipulated Adun. She had done nothing a caring mother wouldn’t do, and from all of the feedback she had gotten, things had been going well, how had she come about this information? “No, never!”

“You set me up, mum!”

“I did not…” there was no way to fully explain this to Adun, there was no way to tell her she had done this for her best interest, “…Patrick is a good man, a great man who was simply down on his luck and needed some help…”

“So you helped him, and in exchange, he could help you by creating a whole farce of a relationship with your single, lonely daughter?” Adun asked snidely.

“I did not!” Folashade defended, “I enrolled him in school, gave him a place to lay his head, a car to drive and how to meet you, I had no part to play in the rest of your relationship.”

“Relationship?” Adun asked, she chuckled a bit maniacally, “There was never a relationship. I just fell into a well-orchestrated trap.”

“Don’t stand there and pretend you have no feelings for the man, Adunni. He makes you happier than anyone I have ever seen you with, the way your eyes would light up when you spoke of him, the only other man that pulled that out of you was your father…”

“Do not mention dad in the same sentence as your little minion, mother.” she warned, “You’re not even remorseful…”

“About helping you find love? No! I did what I had to do as your mother, and I would do it again, because I know the kind of man Patrick is, and I’m selfish enough to want him for my only child.”

“Maybe you should keep him for yourself!”

Folashade moved before she could stop herself. Her hand swung, almost on reflex, and hit Adun against her cheek. The sound seemingly louder than it should have been. The shock on Adun’s face, mirrored that of Folashade’s, as she felt herself grow cold in disbelief of her own actions, and her eyes widen, “Adun..” she began shakily, “…sweetheart, I’m sorr…”

Adun didn’t wait for her to finish her words, she turned her back on her mother and stormed out on her. That was as far as their conversation would go.

This update is too short ooo. Please do something about it. Thanks

So sweet but the update was shot kinda make it longer next time

Thanks for the update ma’am

Thanks for the update
Abeg u no need update fast o cos dis one short like me�

Nice one... But please it is too short.

Thanks for the update,more grease to your elbow

Thanks for the update, hope we gonna see an update today