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ritababe:
pls u dnt nid to quote the whole writeup thanks

Rosemary33:
Twelve

“Fola!”

Jamming my car door, I shoved my keys inside my purse and began striding toward the lady that just stepped out of the gate and was hurrying away.

“Fola!” For Christ’s sake! "Hold on– wait!”

What’s going on?

First, it was her gateman lying that she wasn’t home. I would have turned my car and driven to my house had I not decided to take this opportunity to attend to the series of messages and calls I couldn't attend to while driving my husband to the airport where he boarded the airline that would be taking him to Abuja. Now the same Fola that wasn't supposed to be home just stepped out of the house, dark sunglasses covering her eyes– Fola never wore glasses– and a shawl cloaking part of her face as if she was trying to… protect herself from being recognized.

“Fola, it’s me…” Of course, she knew I was the one calling her. My voice was distinct. And she also knew I was trying to catch up with her, yet she ignored me and… now was about to cross the road. What’s going on? What’s wrong with her?

Slowing her gait as she waited for… a taxi? She looked over her shoulder and I knew she saw me because her brows creased and her lips parted as though she wanted to say something. I was close now. A few feet away from her and I thought it was time for her to explain to me why– wha... What? She just turned her face away and… "Fola!” She crossed the road! Almost knocked over by an oncoming vehicle– thank God she escaped that accident.

Watching her hug her bag to her breast, hurrying along the other side of the road and stopping beside a red Nissan Altima whose glasses were pitch black tinted, I saw her flicker glances around as if she was suspecting that someone was watching– I was watching. I felt her gaze settle on me for a brief moment before she entered the car.

As I watch the vehicle thin away, a feeling of foreboding settled in the pit of my stomach as I began to make a mental calculation of what could possibly be making Fola this apprehensive and who it was behind the wheel of the car she just entered into.

Maybe it’s her husband, he’s back and she didn't want me to meet him. But why? I’d known Enitan for as long as I knew Fola. And Fola had never had any reason to be uncomfortable with me around him.

Slipping my hand inside my bag to get my keys, I glanced at the road where the car had disappeared for the last time before heading back to her gate, where my car was parked.

I was already inside, about to drive away when it struck me: Oliver!

It could be Oliver with her in that car and she didn't want me to know. Or she was going to meet him somewhere and didn't want me to stop her.

I thought… she said she’d stopped her relationship with the creep? But he was blackmailing her. Could it be… was she going to see him so they could talk things over?
But that wouldn't yield anything positive. Fola of all people should know that going to meet this stranger would be the most stupid thing to do in this situation. What happens to the police? She should lay a complaint or something.

Anyway, which one is my own? She chose not to get me involved. Shouldn't I be minding my business?

Yet, I felt that she should have at least–Hissing, I dragged my bag from the other seat to my lap and fished out my phone with my free hand. With my eyes watching the road and flicking to my phone in quick succession, I dialed Fola.

She didn't pick up at the first ring but did when I dialed again.

“Fola!” I said. "What is going on? I know you saw me but you left…”

" Sister Chioma.”

“Are you okay?”

Silent

“Hello?”

"He said not to talk to you again.”

"Who said?”

"I am not supposed to speak to you about this or anything at all.”

Now, this was getting crazy. "Fola, who said you shouldn't talk to me?”

I heard a sob escape her throat. "Stop, Chioma! Please.” Another stifled sob. "He’ll kill me if he knows I picked your call.”

Was she alright? What was she talking about?
"Fola, where are you going? Who are you within the car!”

“I can't tell you. Please stop asking.”

"It’s him, right? He is there?”

"You are not supposed to know anything!”

“What?”

“Just find a way to get away now.” Hey, God. What’s going on? "He’s not a good man, Chioma. Walk away now!”

“Fola, you are scaring me.”

I heard her let off laughter…or a sob? Could be a mixture of both. "It's useless, Chioma. He is a man that must have whatever he wants. You are already caught in the web, you can walk away.”

“James,” I muttered under my breath. "It’s James… Oliver is James!”

A brief silence. Then, "Who… I don't know what you’re talking about.”

“Fola, we need to talk– I can help you…”

"Concentrate on helping yourself.”

And she was gone.

What just happened now? Jesus! I must be dreaming. Definitely, because how could I make any sense of this whole thing?

You are already caught on the web… concentrate on saving yourself…

I didn't know the traffic light had turned green and the vehicles before me had moved until the blare of horns from the ones behind me jarred me back to reality.

****


“You have an appointment with him, ma’am?”

“Uhm– no,” I said, trying so hard to hide the growing anxiety inside me. I must be out of my mind to have come here instead of going home to sleep off the sick experience I just had with Fola. But the more I thought of doing the latter, the more panic squeezed inside until I couldn't breathe.

You are already caught in the web, you can't walk away…

Ride or die…

I had placed the pieces together and knew the answer was here.

He is not a good man, Chioma. Walk away, now.

Fola wasn't being dramatic. Whoever was after her knew me and might be out to harm me if things went south.

He is a man that must have whatever he wants…

And I was already caught on the web?

Ride or die…

Only one name was ringing in my head as I was driving. His face– so handsome, yet so evil was obstructing my vision.

“I’m sorry ma’am. You can't see him now,” the secretary said. "No one sees him without an appointment.”

She didn't say he wasn't in. Even if she said that I wouldn't believe her because I saw the car– the same red Nissan Altima that picked Fola up some minutes ago– at the lot.

“Is he with someone?” was it Fola? Were they together?

“What?”

“Uhm…sorry,” I apologized. "Please give him my name. Chioma– Mrs. Chioma Ogunka.”

"I’m sorry ma’am…”

“He’ll want to see me,” I pressed on. It wasn’t easy formulating a lie so George could give me the address of this place, and it had also taken a lot of nerve for me to ignore the fear gnawing in my stomach to come here. But now I’ve gotten to this point, I must see him…and Fola.

"Please. Just tell him about me.”

The beautiful-faced lady stared at me for a while– I wondered what she might be thinking this visit was. "It’s important that I see him,” I added, stressing the word, important.
Nodding, she picked up the phone at the table, punched numbers, and waited.

A few minutes later, I was being ushered into an opulently decorated office. The man behind the desk rose to his feet as soon as I walked in, a weary smile on his face.

“Thank you, Gift. You can leave now,” he said and began walking towards me.

My eyes shouldn't move away from his face or I’d lose my composure. Damn, they did move. Down to his shirt that was half-buttoned down. He had no inner vest so I could see cascades of hair from his slightly visible chest. His sleeves were also loose and folded. And the whole of his look was ruffled– as though he’d just come out of a brawl or a sex section with some woman. Was it Fola?

“Hey… I wasn’t expecting you would come to me this soon.”

There seemed to be a pinch of uneasiness in his voice.

“I know you would come but…not this soon. What a surprise.”

He was now standing some inches closer to me. Dangerously closer. I could smell his overwhelming masculine scent. And his unbuttoned shirt– if The situation was different and I wasn’t already married, I swear I would have slipped my hands inside… Jesus! Chioma, not now.

“I knew you hunger so much for me…”

"I’m not here to see you.”

“Oh.” His brows rose as he crossed his arms over his middle.

“Not… in that sense,” I added.

“In what sense, sweetheart.”

“In whatever stupid sense you are nursing. And don't call me sweetheart.”

“Stupid…hmm,” he murmured. "I don't know if what I’m thinking is what you are referring to. But…” he moved even closer. "I’ve missed you. Thought about you throughout the night.” Reaching out to touch my face, I slapped his hand off. "Sorry. We shouldn't be doing this standing. Come sit.”

He was halfway back to his seat before he realized I wasn’t following him. Turning, he gave me a questioning stare, then started walking back towards me.

I had to do it now. I had to ask him… "Where is she?” I started as he got closer. "Where is Fola?”

That stopped him in his stride. "Who?”

“Don’t play dumb, James. It doesn't suit you. You brought Fola here, where is she?”

“I don't know what you are talking about.” Was he… "And who the fvck is Fola?”

Jesus! Was he going to deny this glaring truth about everything? "You’ve met her, slept with her even when you knew she’s married. Now you won't let go…”

He began to laugh. "Jealousy. Is it what this is about?” he had closed the gap between us now. His face was a breath away from mine.

"You think I’m sleeping with another woman– this Fola, and you can't have it.”

"You are out of your mind,” I breathed. I was the one out of my mind as I didn't slap his hand away when he grabbed my waist and pulled me against his body. "There is no woman, Sweetheart. I’ll never desire another woman but you.”

Then without warning, his tongue was in my mouth. What the… I should push him away. I had my hands on his chest so I could do just that, but his tongue– what it was doing in my mouth and my senses, reaching some unreachable terminus near my vulva, was so overpowering. I thought George was a terrific kisser, but the way this man was making a contortive sweep of my mouth volt…

“Chioma… sweetheart.”

His coming up for air gave me the break I needed to reset my brain. Pushing him away, I staggered backward. My breath was as hard as his.

“Chioma…”

“Get away from me!”

“Goodness!” he said, licking his lips. "You are driving me crazy.”

"And you are shameless– pure evil.”

"I know.”

"Fola…”

"I didn't sleep with this Fola.”

Shaking my head at his attempt to deny this again, I took in large air into my lungs. "You can't continue lying. James, I saw the letter you sent to her– threatening to harm her simply because she no longer wants to continue with the shameful affair she was having with you.”
His face creased in a frown but he said nothing.

“Ride or die…” Bingo! That got him.

“Where did you hear that from?”

"That’s what was written in the note you sent her..."

“I didn’t send her any note.” Her. He just admitted he knew Fola. "I didn’t write that!”

“You didn’t? Then why did you save her number with the same phrase?”

“Bleep,” I heard him mutter before he turned his back on me.

"I got a glimpse of that on your phone the day it rang in my husband’s office…”

"It had nothing to do with Fola.”

"Ride or die?” A bitter chuckle left my mouth. "Fola is my church member, James.”

"I didn’t sleep with her! Had not as much as kissed her!”

“You are threatening her and her husband!”

Turning sharply, "I am not…” the rest of his words were lost in the sea of anger I saw in his eyes.

"What are you going to do with me, James?”

"Your time here is up, Chioma,” he said with resignation.

“I know everything now.”

“You know nothing,” he gritted as he walked towards the door and opened it. "I’m sorry I have to ask you to leave.”

“How do I get involved in this? Why did you choose me?”

"I… please, leave.”

I should get out as I couldn't interpret the look I saw on his face. Adjusting my bag strap on my shoulder, I began to walk towards the opened door. "Chioma," he called as I was about to step out. "When I met my wife’s mutilated body, a note was dropped by her side and the phrase, 'ride or die' was written in it.”

This revelation shocked me. Was this him trying to convince me otherwise about him?

"Fola. What do you want with her?”

“I’ll advise you never to contact her again. And…”

“What?”

“I wish it wasn’t you married to George.”