₦airaland Forum

***

Banks found her sitting at the edge of the pool wearing a red long sleeved sweater and black shorts that left most of her smooth legs bare. Her knees were bent to her chest and her arms were wrapped around her bare legs, rocking backward and forward on her ass as she stared at the setting sun in the distance. He brought over in a tray the Mac and egg sauce with bits of sardine fish he’d just prepared and placed it on the floor beside her.
She wasn’t startled. She’d heard him exit the backdoor. She turned to watch him sit next to the tray of food, intertwining his legs in front of him. He wore an apron over his sweater and denim trousers. His beard was a couple days old leaving a dark stubble on his fair complexioned skin she wanted to run her hand over. She loved the way he joined her without intruding on her mood. He ignored her admiring the compound as he settled in comfortably.
“The pool guy did a great job…worth every kobo he asked for,” Banks said.
“Yeah, it smells better. It was awful last night.”
“You came out here last night?” Banks looked at her. She nodded. “Lemme guess…to smoke your cigarettes?”
“It was just one cigarette…and… how did you know?”
“I didn’t…It was just a guess,” Banks said. Lade looked away. “Lade, look at me.” He called. He hooked a finger beneath her jaw and turned her face to his. Her eyes were shifty. She watched her scratch an itch on her feet and turned her head away again. Banks removed the tray of food from in between them and scooted closer till their sides were touching. He felt her stiffen.
“Can I say something before you lock me out?” He asked. She shifted away from him in reply. Banks sighed but continued. “Why are you acting like I’ve ever judged you? It was just a cigarette.”
“It was not just a cigarette. It was…I lied to you…by omission…I lied…I snuck out in the middle of the night to…it wasn’t just a cigarette.”
“Okay…”
Lade looked at him, her anger shining through her teary eyes. Anger at herself…and at him for thinking it was okay. “I used the syringe again too! I cooked the last of the H Cindy gave me and injected myself while you were asleep! I needed it so bad, I couldn’t help myself! So, it is not okay! You’re risking a whole lot for me… for us! The least I can do is try!”
Banks sighed heavily. “And what makes you think I expect you to try? This is an addiction. Your own will is against you in the first place, so you’re only going to fail if you try! There is only one way to fight this thing!”
Lade’s look was full of uncertainty. “Which is?”
“Sister Vee called earlier. She’d ordered the drugs you need and they are going to be delivered in three days.”
“And what am I going to do in the meantime? Do you know how badly I need it right now?” She yelled at him and got to her feet to leave.
Banks jumped to his feet too, looking frustrated. “Don’t you understand? Loving me is not enough, you have to commit! Wanting to be in this relationship is just a first step! You already took it! There is a series of other steps you must take! I love you! See how much I’ve shown it! See how far we’ve come! I’m ready to do even more…anything possible…to keep you! You say you love me too! Prove it! Not to me, not to my sister or my friends! Not to Cindy, not even to Sting! Prove it to yourself! It doesn’t matter whether they are rooting or not rooting for us! I’m rooting for you, but it won’t mean a damn thing if you’re not rooting for us too.”
“I hate you!” Lade yelled, sobbing. “I can’t do this anymore! I’m packing my things and I’m leaving!” She ran into the house.
Banks fell to the floor on his ass when the kitchen door slammed shut. He stared at the food on the tray. Had she even noticed he’d made her dinner? Did it smell awful? He took one of the two forks on the tray and took some into his mouth… chewed slowly… relishing the taste…thinking…she had to be kidding about leaving. He forked some more into his mouth.
She was kidding alright. Or maybe, she changed her mind by the time she got to their bedroom. He found her sitting on the floor at the upper side porch overlooking the next building which seemed empty. Her eyes wore a heavy scowl that marked her discomfort. She had an unlit cigarette in between her fingers and was also holding an empty Ziploc bag that had been turned inside out. She was licking it.
Lade looked up when she heard him approach and hid the Ziploc bag behind her, cringing in embarrassment. He’d taken off his apron, she noticed. She suddenly felt the urge to retch and jumped to her feet to run past him into the room and straight to the nearest bathroom.
She opened the toilet bowl, kneeled in front of it and vomited. She peed herself as she did, urine soaking the crotch of her shorts, seeping down her thighs and pooling beneath her knees. Lade finished vomiting and turned to find Banks watching her with a perfectly made-up straight face, albeit raised eyebrows, standing at the bathroom doorway. She got to her feet and went to slam the door to his face.
When Lade opened the door a few minutes later, she found him standing in the same position carrying a change of clothes in his arms. She snatched the clothes from him and returned into the bathroom, shutting the door a bit gentler. Banks heard her sob and listened for a full minute, confused as to what to do. He was conflicted. Should he let her be, or should he go in there?
He knocked and entered the bathroom when he couldn’t take it anymore. He found her sitting on the edge of the tub still in her soiled clothes. She covered her face with her hands when she heard him enter and turned her back to him. His heart went out to her, like it was wont to do. He went to sit beside her and put his arms around her. She turned and buried her face into his chest, sobbing and apologizing. He shushed and consoled her, wishing he could do more…like erase it all.
“Get up!” He ordered.
She obeyed and was surprised when he unbuttoned her shorts and pushed it down her legs together with her panties till they pooled at her feet. She acquiesced when he nudged her hands up and took off her sweater. He turned her around, unsnapped her bra and took it off. He turned away from her to set the temperature of the water in the shower. He took off his polo and his trouser. He took all their clothing and hung them where the shower water wouldn’t touch them. He turned to her, wearing just his bossers and noticed her checking him out.
She caught herself…or rather, recognized the moment the switch in the direction of her train of thoughts began, from half-hazard to uni-linear. Her mind switched from a maze of confusing emotions to focus on him – his lean, hard body and the way his underwear hung low on his hips. She loved that his muscles weren’t bulging, but they weren’t slender either. He probably wasn’t a regular at the gym, still he looked fit. Her breath had hitched and her body was stiffening in all the right places. She felt herself clench when he turned around and caught her. He closed the space in between them and pulled her into a warm embrace that made her body tingle. Moments…she…no they were having a moment. She felt his hot breath on her forehead and looked up at him. He reached a hand behind her for…something. The next moment she knew what it was, warm water. Just the right temperature. She was about to liken it to that rush of blood to the head she usually felt after a fix, but then he kissed her and it felt more like it. She arched herself into him and felt his rigidity poking at her.
They made love in the shower. It began slow and passionate. It felt like they were joined in more than one place; like all the emotions she felt inside oozed through her sweat pores and he understood every one of them as they rubbed off on him, latching on to each and every one of them with active receptors, interpreting every need to be kissed and touched and kneaded, and caressed, and squeezed. And lifted, and backed to the wall. Faster. Harder. Deeper. Needs she didn’t have to say a word to convey. She couldn’t but cry his name when she came, holding on to him like an anchor as she rode the waves upon waves of pleasure erupting within her.
When he finished, he washed her with soap while she stood quivering in his arms. He toweled her body, wrapped her up and carried her into the room. Her only thoughts were of being put to bed and cuddled by him, but was surprised at his plans. He sat her on the bed.
“Get dressed, we are going out after dinner.”
Dinner. She wasn’t hungry. No, she had no appetite. “Where?”
He kissed her forehead. “Don’t worry. You’ll be safe. I’ll protect you.” He turned around and went back to the bathroom for his own bath.

***

Kunle lay back on the bed and watched her breasts swing as she rode him. They were naked on top of the sheets in his bedroom. Her body was petite, her skin soft and sheen with sweat. Her mouth hung open as her steaming glove box pumped and massaged his erection – up and down…up and down. He grabbed both her breasts and squeezed them – soft, succulent C-cups with a hint of sag and dark, distending nipples that were pebbly on the skin of his palms. Cindy. She moaned as he caressed them.
He felt her constricting on him. Tightening her sheath. Cumming silently. He turned them both over and turned her around so she was on her stomach. He bent her knees so her beautiful ass was in the air. He slipped into her quivering, slippery hole and started thrusting hard, with reckless abandon, building momentum towards his own release. He found her sucking her thumb, her eyes closed in pleasure. She started pushing back at him seeking her own pleasure a second time, and when she found it, he came with her erupting into the condom he wore and groaned her name out loud.
They lay back on the bed to catch their breath. She looked sated and curled into him. He reached down to pull off the condom from his rapidly declining erection and throw it to the floor beside the bed. He kissed her neck and hugged her to him, but his cell phone rang distracting them from the post-coital cuddle and he got off the bed in search of it.
It was Taiwo. He answered the call. “Taiwo!” He paused to listen. “Good! I’m coming over immediately!"
Cindy rolled over to face him. Everything dey okay?” She asked, full of sweet innocence.
Kunle stared at her and shook his head. “We don’t talk about my business, ever.”
Cindy shrugged and rolled over to the other side of the bed. She’d heard enough anyway, and she was pretty worried about the outcome. Next thing she knew, Kunle had scooted closer to her.
“Hey, I didn’t mean it that way. There are certain things I can’t tell you about Cindy." She half turned to look at him. He was wearing his best lover-boy look and she swallowed a smirk. “It’s okay, I understand. I don’t need any hassle with Sting either. But, you need to start doing more than follow orders, Kunle. Spencer does. You’re smart too, and you could use some of that initiative of yours to bring Sting results he needs. He’d value your relevance more that way. To do that, you have to let people you trust in on your plans, let them share their own perspectives. Like that Taiwo guy. I’ve never seen him at the workhouse before, so he probably works directly for you. You share your plans with him and you listen to his opinion. If that is what’s been working for you, then you need more of that. I mean, a year ago you were running the errands at the house…washing this, cleaning that, selling marijuana to make your own ends meet. Now look at you…if not for Spencer you’d be Stings’ right hand man.”
Kunle sat up on the bed. Cindy turned to face him fully, propping herself up with her elbows. His gaze fell to her naked torso. The fool was such a breast man; didn’t he have enough of his mommy’s milk?
“Why do you want in, Cindy? It’s been more a full year since…the last time…why now?”
And why would you think I haven’t prepared for that question if I had ulterior motives? Cindy thought. “Because you’ve been clueless and I’ve been waiting for you to figure out what you want. You don’t expect me to show my hand to a clueless man, do you? Not in this kind of city I live in.”
Kunle folded his arms and just stared at her.

***

Charles Anya had just picked his seven year old son from primary school and was on his way to the laundry when his phone rang. He was driving his two year old Ford Focus and his son, Junior was riding sho-gun in his school uniform. Junior looked up from the bananas he was eating when Charles took his phone for a quick glance at the screen.
“Daddy, traffic rules and regulations for safety – do not make or answer phone calls while driving.”
Charles laughed. “Of course, that’s among the worst of bad driving habits… but son, some callers pay more than others. We can’t afford to lose a chance to buy you a new bicycle… buy your mother a new handbag and sexy dress so she can look beautiful at P.T.A.”
Junior made a face but grinned excitedly. “Bicycle! And Mommy in sexy dress…” Charles held up a hand to interrupt him and answer the call.
“Barrister Juliet…! How are you doing…? Well, just driving around with Junior.” He turned to Junior. “Son, say hello to Auntie Jules,” he said, and held the phone to his ears while he watched the road.
“Aunty Jules good afternoon…! School is fine! Yes aunty! Bye!"
Charles returned the phone to his ear. “So, what’s up…?” Charles asked and listened.
Charles pulled up outside Eni stores an hour later. He located the Jeep Wrangler among other cars belonging to customers parked outside. He drove by, recognized Banks behind the Wrangler’s wheels and turned to find a spot to park his Ford while he wondered why they were meeting at the parking lot of a busy superstore.
Banks alighted from the Jeep and waited by the door. Charles alighted from his vehicle and walked over to meet him.
“Mr. Bankole.” He offered his hand for a handshake.
Banks took it with a chuckle. “I try my best not to go by that. It’s quite a mouthful. I thought I told you to call me Banks or Peter.”
“Peter then… I was on my way home with my boy when I got the call from Jules. I had to drop him off at home with his mom before coming. I’m sorry if I kept you waiting.”
Banks shrugged. “I haven’t been here that long myself. Just five to ten minutes. When Juliet said you’d be here in an hour, I delayed a bit at home before showing up.”
“Oh! Okay then my man…so what’s happening? Why are we meeting here, like this?”
Banks sighed and folded his arms. ”Oh my girlfriend is inside shopping. I don’t know when next I’d be opportune to meet you.”
“Okay, so what’s up?”
Banks unfolded his hands and glanced at the shop’s entrance. “I took her...” He gave Charles an uneasy smile but got a blank stare.
“You took her…who?” It was beginning to sink but Charles didn’t dare misinterpret.
“Lade… the girl I asked you to investigate.”
Charles was stunned speechless at that. He listened while Banks filled him in on everything that had happened since the last time they met – from the street fight with Sting on Theresa’s homecoming to the circumstances that led to Lade’s elopement. Charles simply shook his head after Banks’ narration.
“This is…I don’t know what to say, my man. And you got one his boys hurt – probably in the hospital now – in the process. Trust me, if he finds both of you, you’re history and not all the Bankole money in the world can save you my man?”
“I know that! Why else do you think I called for you?” Banks asked.
Charles frowned. “I don’t understand! How do I come in in all this?”
“I have to take him down.” Banks was emphatic.
Charles’ eyes widened in surprise. He put his right index finger in his right ear and rubbed. “There’s got to be bubbles in my ears… did I hear you say you want to…what – take Sting down?” He chuckled in disbelieve.
“That’s the only way my girl and I will ever have a shot at being together without looking over our shoulders. She’s a mess. You just have to look her in the eye to see that. You know how many other girls were there at the lodge…?”
“They aren’t chained to the place, where they? They’re okay with their relationship with Sting – he supplies them drugs while they satisfy his list of clientele. If any of them is dissatisfied, they could try to leave like your girlfriend chose to do.”
“Sting will find us if he has half the resources I hear he has. My family is not famous but we are not inconspicuous. ”
“You could leave the country. Ghana maybe… South Africa… or leave the continent at once…”
“What about my sister or my mother? What about my friends?” A thought occurred to him then.
Charles opened his hands. “I don’t know how I can help you with that.”
“You’re a private investigator. I want enough dirt on him I can take to the police. He can’t do us any harm if we have enough evidence to get him locked up in prison.” Charles laughed. Banks was puzzled by his mirth. “What! What’s funny?”
“There is enough dirt to bury him alright. I won’t have to look hard to find it.”
“Good!”
“That’s not the problem. See Peter, I can bet all my teeth Sting’s got the police commissioner in his pockets. I know for a fact that half the policemen in this city are dirty anyway. I can also bet you our attorney general is a member of a higher echelon of crooks our friend Sting owes his allegiance to. The fact that the governor himself appointed Damilola Lobo as A.G, goes a long way to further sour your pie. So you see my man, ‘taking Sting down’ as you put it is a mountainous task.”
“But not impossible…right? I don’t believe any one is really untouchable.” Banks mentioned.
Charles sighed and scratched his head. He looked at the young man in front of him so full of enthusiasm and couldn’t believe he was about to consider what he was proposing. Why didn’t he bring him something simpler. This could take a month…or a year. And a lot of powerful people would be exposed – guilty by association. Did he want to be that guy who brought them down? His resume would skyrocket… yet his personal security and that of his family…
Banks noticed Lade exit the store, shuffling her feet and looking deadbeat. She had on a simple green gown that stopped at her knees and hugged her figure. She had a shopping bag in one hand and a piece of paper in the other. She scanned the busy lot for him and smiled when she saw him. She walked towards him and was followed by half a dozen shop attendants in uniform carrying cartons filled with her purchases. They had the attention of all the other customers in the lot.
Charles noticed them approaching. “Wow, when you said she was shopping, I didn’t imagine this…this is stockpiling groceries for an underground holiday, not shopping.” He was smiling. “It’s wise…and she’s beautiful…tired from all the shopping, but definitely a beaut.”
Banks got his wallet out and took out his card. “Don’t expect an introduction today. Hopefully I will, after you’ve considered my proposition and agreed to help us.” He wrote down Cindy’s phone number on the back of the card then gave it to Charles. “That’s the number of one of Sting’s oldest girls. She’s willing to help. Talk to her! Then get back to me if you think you can help us.
Charles grinned and took the card. “It’s good to be cautious.” Even more attendants exit the shop with more cartons and join the train. “Woah! With all this you should be good for what… six months?”
Banks smiled at that. He offered Charles a handshake and when it was taken, he said, “See you later Charles. And don’t breathe a word of this to Juliet.”
Charles nodded and left just as Lade arrived with her train. Lade who had seen Banks hand over his complimentary card frowned curiously when Banks’ friends walked away just as she arrived. She turned her scowl to Banks who was still smiling.
“Who’s he?”
“A recent acquaintance. We’ll talk about it later.” He kissed her. He opened the back doors and boot of the Jeep for the attendants to load up. He slipped out three, one thousand naira bills from his wallet and offered it to one of them.
“Recharge card money, for you and your colleagues,” He said to the hearing of them all. They thanked him and returned to the shop. Banks went to fetch Lade from where she’d stood and watched the Charles’ Ford drive out of the lot.
“I promise I’ll tell you all about it, but we’ve got to get going,” he said. She nodded and allowed him to walk her to the front passenger side. He held the door open for her to get in, walked back around to the driver’s side, got in and drove away.

***

Mike’s place was a beautiful, five-room bungalow along 23rd Crescent. All the houses on the same boulevard were alike – a modern house in yellow paint in the middle of a sizable compounds. It was already late in the afternoon by the time Lade and Banks settled in. They explored the house, found a few junk food in the refrigerator, turned on the generator and pumped water. Lade was antsy and itchy by then, and went to bed at the guest room up at the penthouse after a quick snack and a long shower.
It was late the next morning when she woke. She was too weak to get out but she did. She remembered she’d gone to bed in her clothes but woke up in just her panties. She shivered when she heard the electric bell ring and got alert. She noticed her house robe hung on a dresser chair which hadn’t been there the previous night. She got off the bed and went to put it on. A pair of flip-flops were on the floor next to the bed. She slipped her feet in and exited the room.
She walked out the house to the front porch and watched Banks take money out of his wallet and give someone outside the gate and collect a pizza box from the person. Banks locked the gate after him and walked back towards the front porch.
“Pizza for breakfast, how romantic!” She murmured when he arrived.
Banks chuckled. He kissed her cheek. “Don’t be sarcastic babe, we are going grocery-hunting today.” He slapped her butt under her robe and got a glare and a punch on his hand. “Hmm… testy and sarcastic. Trust me, pizza and tea would put you in a better mood for the day. Come on.” He continued into the house.
Lade hid her smug smile and followed suit.

***

Sting’s work house was a coarse, old one story building located in the middle of nowhere – nowhere being the extreme end of Ebutte Metta. It was a mansion compared to the neighboring houses even though the closest neighbors were almost a mile away. Sting owned the three hectares of land surrounding his workhouse. He rented a third to farmers and lined with rubber trees and farmer’s quarters, a second third lined with parking space for MACK truck heads and a garage for auto repairs. The workhouse stood in the middle of the rest of the land. The paint on the walls was old and peeling. A few louvers were missing from some of the front windows. A fish pond was at an extreme close to a cluster of plantain trees. A tower had three plastic water tanks on top of it and there was tap on a little platform on the floor. Cars and trucks were littered at the space in front of the house.
Cindy lit herself a cigarette and waited. She was sitting on a chair under a shade tree at the backyard. The yard was usually populated with Sting’s crew hanging around, waiting to run an errand. Today was different. The yard was unswept, littered with leaves from the shade trees. There were other plastic chairs toppled over and damp from the early morning dew. The garbage bin at the front yard had been emptied but the cans hadn’t been returned to their place. She saw Kunle exit the house and walk towards her with a couple bottles of stout.
“Cindarettes…” He called her jokingly. He arrived and handed her a bottle.
“It was just one night Kunle…stop acting like you know me.” Cindy said, rolling her eyes.
Kunle got himself a chair. “What else is there to know?” He took out a hand towel from his back pocket and wiped the chair before sitting down. “Your name is Cindy. You’re thirty something and still a knock-out; also we both work for the same asshole.”
Cindy stiffened one second, but hid her surprise in the next with a little laugh. She bit off the cap of her beer and took a swig off. It had to be a trap. You don’t carry such opinion about Sting around him for long without him sniffing you and snuffing you out. She’d been around long enough to know him. She also found it hard to believe Sting could be losing his touch.
Still, where was everyone? His crew; his family, as he called them the rare occasions he got so high and sentimental. “Where is everyone?” Kunle shrugged. “What do you care? Everyone’s got a life outside here, so they got a right to be elsewhere?”
Cindy rolled her eyes at him.
Kunle chuckled. “There was a party last night…to celebrate...someone got Mandy yesterday… Sting wasn’t back yet. The boys hadn’t heard about Spencer being in the hospital and Lade running off with that boy toy of hers. Sting and I had a few at a bar somewhere and he was definitely drunk when we got back…”
“…you were with him alone?”
Kunle nodded, looking proud of himself. “Any way, he blew up and told everyone to get off his property, including the poultry farmer boys that came to join us. You know how he is when he is really mad at something.”
“Wow… so it’s just you and him… and the guys at the security post of course, but they’re not important. They have to be there…”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
She looked genuinely excited and proud of his achievement. “It’s like the rise of the foot soldier. Spencer’s at the hospital. Sting needs a new wing man, even if it’s till his little brother is back on his feet. You’re available…” Cindy tittered. “It’s a long way from dealing, or supplying and collecting, or pimping or whatever errand you used to run for him. Whatever you’ve been up to, you’ve been very smart about it.” she said nodding knowingly at him.
Kunle stared at her, but because her tone was light and she was smiling good-naturedly at him as she spoke, he preferred to take it as a joke. His laugh was as hollow as it sounded. “For a minute, I thought you were saying I planned it, or drove the car that hit him.”
Cindy narrowed her gaze. “I’ve been here longer than you Kunle. I know you. You don’t back out once you got an inch in…don’t kill someone this time. Be the temporary wingman you are, but then get ready to step back in line when it’s time and Spencer is back.”
His smile was long gone. If looks could kill… “Like you said, it was only one night. You don’t really know me either.”
Cindy shrugged and tossed her cigarette. She took out a packet out of her denim trouser pocket and pulled one out for herself. “Would you like?” She asked him. His eyes were like mirrors. She could see the axle and wheels turn in his mind and wondered if he’d always been too easy to manipulate.
Kunle took the offered cigarette.
“Do you have a clue, as to why Sting wants to see me?”
Kunle shook his head. “No…he’s angry. I bet he wants to know what you know about Nicky. The both of you were kind of close when she was around. She must’ve mentioned”
Exactly what she’d assumed. Cindy leaned back on the chair and lit her cigarette.

***

The sound of angry footsteps woke Andy from his sleep on the couch in the sitting room. The TV was still on the channel he was watching the previous night before sleeping. His gaze fell to his phone on the side stool beside him. It was blinking. Messages? Missed calls? Threat calls from someone he’d knocked off the street with a car the previous night? He wondered if the car could be traced back to them. So many people knew Banks owned a red Mercedes convertible. No time. The angry footsteps entered the sitting room and he sat up to see Vanessa with a scowl on her face heading for the front door.
Banks was quick at her heels. “Vanessa stop! I’m talking to you!” He followed her into the sitting room. He noticed Andy sit up on the couch with a pillow on the arm. Vanessa stopped and turned to face her brother.
“I told you she either leaves or I do! You chose her!”
“It’s not an either-or situation, Vanessa! I brought her here! This is my house as much as it’s yours, so neither of you is leaving until we talk!”
Vanessa takes a step towards him, so angry. “How could you, Peter? What did you bring her here for?”
Andy knelt on the couch, the same question on the look he gave Banks. Banks took a deep breath and exhaled. His voice was calm and assuring when he replied. “Sister Vee…her name is Lade. She is a person, just like everyone else in this room.
“Fine! Lade! Whatever! You’ve not answered my question.” Vanessa folded her arms, looking at him askance.
“She has agreed to quit the drugs, and I am going to help her.”
Vanessa rolled her eyes, “Yeah right,” she said with a voice dripping with sarcasm. “That’s exactly what we saw her doing in your bathroom – quitting.” She chuckled.
“What was she doing?" Andy asked.
“None of your damn business Andy!” Banks bit in before Vanessa could reply. He turned to his sister. “And why would you enter my room without knocking? How many times have we…”
“You seriously want to take that route Peter?” Vanessa’s eyes widened in angry surprise. A couple steps got her closer to his brother that she couldn’t perceive his morning breath. It wasn’t awful, just morning breath.
“I didn’t see anything but a girl sitting on the bathroom floor leaning on the tub. Weird yeah, but still… she wasn’t smoking or shooting anything.”
Vanessa’s brows knitted even more. “I can’t believe you’d lie to defend her. You forget I’m the one who woke you up to see what I’d already seen.”
“What did you see?” Andy asked again, getting more curious by the moment.
“She had her belt around her arm and an empty syringe in the other hand. Her eyes were…closed…almost like she was resting. She saw me enter but must’ve been too…weak to hide her things. But by the time I returned with this my fool of a brother, she’d hidden the syringe only God knows where.” She turned to Banks who was downcast. “At least you saw her struggling with her belt buckle. And I saw the purse she forgot in the kitchen. I saw all the cash and drugs she has inside it. If the police were to raid this house right now…” Her voice was steadily rising.
Banks sighed and lowered his voice. “Cut her some slack Sister Vee! You won’t understand, but these past few weeks has been tough on her… on the both of us…” He went to sit on the arm of a single cushion. “She is in the middle of a transition.”
Vanessa gave him a frustrated look. “Look at your face – messed up again after last time. Since you ran into her, you get into fights with nasty people I can only imagine. That is her world, Peter! This is ours! And it doesn’t include guests that shoot drugs in our bathrooms… You need to come to terms with that.”
Banks shook his head and got to his feet and turned his back on them. He didn’t notice Lade eavesdropping from a hidden corner out at the hallway. He was lost in his thought.
“I just wonder who wants to solve the drug problem… you or her.” Vanessa contiued.
He turned to face his sister. “The both of us… her resolve to quit may be weak right now… but so what? That’s why it’s called an addiction. Do you know what it means to run away from your love-vendor?”
“Should I?” Vanessa replied. Banks sighed again, giving up on the argument. There was no convincing his sister.
“We could enroll her in a rehabilitation center,” Andy suggested.
Banks shook his head. “Too public! Sting would be looking for her. I won’t take that chance… Moreover, I want to be able to see her… watch her progress. A rehab center would restrict our interaction.”
“But that’s your best bet,” Vanessa said. “Trust me, you don’t know jag about curing an addiction. There are medications for withdrawal symptoms. Also, there is cognitive behavioral therapy to help modify the patient’s expectations and behaviors related to the drug use and to increase skills in coping with life stressors. If you really want to do it, you have to do it right.”
Banks kept silent but gave her a look that pleaded for something. Vanessa resumed frowning. She knew that look. He always wore it when he wanted something from him, but she had no clue. “What?”
“Maybe you can help,” Banks finally said.
Vanessa’s eyes widened in realization. The frown turned to a scowl. “Help her?”
“Truth is, we are hiding from her…boss. I understand there are medications that can help the cravings when things get nasty until things start to get too awful to bear.”
“No bloody way Peter! Have you lost your mind? Those aren’t exactly OTCs you’re asking for. If I get it from the hospital drug store, questions would be asked – questions I'd rather not answer.”
“You’re talking as if I’m asking you to break in and steal the hospital supply. Fine, I’ll buy it off the internet. Only I won’t know if what I’m buying is genuine and the side effects…”
Vanessa was aghast and beside herself in amazement of what she was hearing Banks say. “Damn you! This conversation is over! My head is aching and so I’m returning to my room to get me a bathe and some sleep. By the time I’m out, she better be gone or I’ll call mom and tell her everything!” Vanessa made to storm past Banks but he caught her by the arm stopping her.
“Sister Vee…!”
“What? What about her love-vendor? He’s her dealer, right? What if he traces her here? You’ve got a very public profile at school.”
“She’z rat, Peter!? Lade said from behind them with a voice so drawn out, Banks could barely recognize it.
They turned to see Lade standing at the doorway that lead into the hallway. She is leaning on the door frame to her left. Her face flushed in the parlor lights and while her eyes were glassy, she looked tired and lethargic. “Sister Vee is… raat,” She drawled. “If Sting trazez oz to diz plaze… That wud be… be my worst nightmar. Your moda wud hate me worz than she’ll hate... who I am!” She swayed on her feet like she was drunk but righted her balance. “I’m a danger to you… to all of you.” She looked at the other two.
“No Lade. I can get an army truck to station outside.”
Everyone was surprised.
“For ‘ow long? Eh? Sting will still shoot hiz way in. He haz the rezourzez. I know tha’ much. Please Peter. I told you laz nat but you din’t listen. Is tooo dangerous to stay here.”
Her words were a reasonable slur. She was definitely high. There was no denying what he’d known since the beginning. Banks tried to keep the pity he felt out of his face. His heart ached with pain. He felt like an ancient man who came home from a long day at the farm to find his personal shrine trashed and torn down – like your virgin fiancé got raped while you were away. Surprisingly, disgust is not what he felt. All he could remember was the Lade who he used to worship before life happened to them. He shook his head in confusion. He was torn between the safety of the home he'd known a long time, and the rationale behind her reasonableness. “Where else can we be safer? If Sting can trace us to this place because of my notoriety, then he can also find us at my studio.” He asked closing the distance between them.
Lade shook her shoulders. “I don’t know either. Anywhere but here will be a good start.” Her reply was a barely audible whisper. She noticed Vanessa watching her closely. “I’m sorry,” she said scratching an itch on the crook of her arm. “I don’t know why…I…I... I couldn’t help myself… I needed to…I can’t explain it.” Her voice broke and Vannessa looked away.
Banks pulled her into his arms and she wept on his chest. He rubbed her back. “It’s okay Lade. It’s alright.”
She stopped crying. “I’m zorry Peter. You know am not uzually like dees… weepy idiot, making a full of myzelf in public.” She looked up at him with red eyes and wet cheeks. Banks gave her a tentative smile and wiped the tears with both his thumbs. “It’s alright. You’ll be better soon. I promise you.” He hugged her and whispered in her ears some more.
Vanessa and Andy exchanged uncomfortable glances. Andy shrugged and sat down with his back on them. Vanessa was moved with compassion even though she still couldn’t fathom why he had to choose this one. She hadn’t known the extent of affection her brother felt for Lade right until this moment. She was floored by it. Peter was risking his life willingly to be with someone who wasn’t worth it. Well, ‘probably’ not worth it, because who knows tomorrow, right? Times change; people change with it too. However, she knew her brother wasn’t one to knowingly make reckless decisions. Did he have his own reasons for being with her, or was he allowing passion and sentiment to shroud everything else?
“You can stay at Mike’s place at the Island while you both figure it out.” She said without giving second thought. Banks and Lade released each other and turned to look at her with surprise on their faces. Andy did too.
Vanessa continued. “He’s at Abuja right now and won’t be back for a while; something to do with his job. The place needs a sitter anyway cos I’m too busy between the chores here and work. I’ll give you the master key and the address.”
Lade didn’t know the place, so she looked at Banks to check his reaction. Banks was frowning hard. “Where’s the catch?” He asked his sister.
“No catch. Just don’t bring in thugs to thrash the place.”
Banks looked at Lade who had a hopeful look in hers. He returned his attention to Vanessa. “So, what made you change your mind?”
“You don’t have to double check everything, Peter. When have you ever asked for my help and I refused you. You obviously need it now more than ever… And while I’m at it, I’ll buy the drugs you will need myself.”
Banks’ face broke into a relieved grin. “Mike’s place is perfect,” he said to Lade. He walked to Vanessa to hug her. “Thanks Sister Vee,” he said, “I knew you’d come around.”
“I didn’t. I’m not getting any more involved in this than I already I am, the reason being that you both go way back. The only thing I want to hear is that she’s getting better.” Vanessa extricated herself away from the hug and walked past him towards the hall way. She stopped beside Lade and said, “go remove your purse from my mother’s kitchen table,” without looking at her. She continued her exit from the sitting room and headed for the stairs.
Lade looked at Andy who turned away too late and stare at the TV to hide how awkward he felt. She looked down at the lush carpet till once again, Banks was beside her. He kissed her forehead and lifted her face to his.
“Shee hatz mee,” she mumbled. “They bot hatz mee.”
Banks smiled with all the reassurance he could muster. “They would come around. You’re an awesome person Lade. With time, they won’t help but see past all this bullshit and notice that.”
Lade nodded and put her arms around him. He was so good for her self-esteem. “Ah love you. Av ah tod you that?” she whispered out of Andy's ear shot, but Vanessa who had stopped at the top of the stairs to eavesdrop heard everything. She rolled her eyes and continued up the stairs.
“Not lately, but we won’t be here if you didn’t.”
She nodded, leaning some more into him and put her arms around his back. He was so rock solid and warm. She held him for a full minute loving how he let her like he had no better place to be or thing to do than to be held by his junkie girlfriend... his... She was his girlfriend indeed. Lade blinked at the thought.
“I’ll have to pack a few things. We’re leaving after breakfast. How about that?” Banks said finally.
Lade nodded. “Thank you.” For a whole lot more than she could mention in that moment, her drugged mind thought. They released each other and left the sitting room hand in hand.

Sorry for the delay. I'm on a work trip, socializing prior to a quarterly meeting, and there is quite a lot of distractions here. Nevertheless I promised, and even though my glo network is weak, I intend to fulfill my promise, so here it goes...


CHAPTER NINE


Andy drove to the Bankole family house despite Lade’s protests. It was the sensible thing to do though. Banks needed first aid and Vanessa had a kit. Moreover, home seemed the safest place to be that night with what they’d just done.
“Should we… shouldn’t we… uhm… I’ve got Cindy’s number crammed.” Lade turned around to face Banks. She was standing at the balcony with a glass of wine in her hand. Banks was sitting on his mother’s recliner with a half-filled glass next to a bottle of Chardonnay on the coffee table in front of him. “We could call her…find out what is happening…what Sting is up to.” She turned to face him. His handsome face was bruised, but the wounds were clean. Damn her hands for shaking too much. She would have done more than just plaster the little gash on his left temple and the right corner of his lips.

They had come out to the balcony after the dinner Andy had prepared. Andy had gone to his room afterwards and this was the first either was broaching the subject of their elopement since they got back.

Banks watched Lade a bit, his bruised face expressionless. Her face flushed at the attention. She broke her gaze and looked at something else, as she felt goose pimples on her neck and arms. She seemed restless and he knew why. He shook his head. “No…not yet. Maybe tomorrow.”
She turned to stare out again. She heard him move and looked over her shoulder to see him get up from his chair and walk up to her. He leaned on the balcony backward next to her. He seemed hesitant. “I don’t know how else to ask you this…” She scratched her neck and shifted her stance uncomfortably.
“Are you okay?” Banks asked.
“Mhmm…” She looked him in the eye for a second and looked away. She had broken a sweat under the night breeze. “Why do you…Why do you ask?” Banks shrugged. “Nothing, I just want you to be okay.”
She looked at him with shifty eyes. “I’m fine... depressed maybe. I’d have been better if we were at your studio with all those paintings around to distract me, but you insisted on bringing me here.”
Banks’ eyes lifted slightly. She was trying to change the topic. “Let’s not bring that back up. We’re here now, and we are safe…for tonight. It’s going to be one day at a time baby, but I promise we’d figure it out.” He took her free hand in his. Her palms were damp. She withdrew almost immediately, like she’d just realized.
“I’ll like a bathe, then I’d call it a night after that…Are you coming?”
“I’d stay out here for a bit longer. I’m not yet sleepy.”
Banks nodded. “Okay…” He was reluctant to leave her by herself but there was nothing else to say so he left for his room. Lade stayed up for a long time but retired to Banks bedroom suite, changed to her night clothes and slipped into the bed beside him.
Lade woke up the next morning with a splitting headache, an itchy neck and a dry throat. Banks was snoring lightly beside her. He either had pills to blame, or he wasn’t much of an early riser. She needed to drink water badly. That and a long, warm shower. A fix would be a surer fix though.
She slipped out of her side of the bed careful not to wake. She sat for a moment reflecting on the first night they’d spent together. She’d never thought it would be uneventful. Okay, the circumstances weren’t in favor of… she felt… empty. She remembered Cindy’s purse in her bag and shook her head as if willing the thought away. Her cravings were urgent this morning. The empty feeling would only get worse, she knew, unless she…just one last time. One last time, then try to quit. There was an unused syringe in Vanessa’s first aid pack. All she needed was a lighter and a spoon. There had to be one in the kitchen. She took a look at Banks sleeping with his bruised face and her eyes got misty. Just one last time.
Musa threw the gate open and waved Vanessa good morning as she drove in. Vanessa greeted him through her window and directed her car up the driveway to pull up behind Banks Mercedes parked outside the front porch. She alighted, still wearing scrubs, retrieved her overnight bag and a grocery bag full of fruits and marched off around the house for the kitchen entrance. She was dragging her red, ALL-STARS kicks-encased feet and looked in need of a hot soak in the tub and a long sleep.
Vanessa walked past the pool yard and got in to the house via the kitchen door. She dropped the grocery bag on the table and would have continued straightvto her room, but she noticed the black, smooth leather purse tottering over the extreme end of the table. It didn’t look like any she’d seen with her mom. Susan never used purses, and it definitely didn’t belong to her. Neither of them had been home last night or this morning. She took it and weighed it in her hands. Her curiosity got the better of her. She unzipped it and took a look inside. Her eyes grew twice its size and her lower jaw dropped open. She was looking at a thick wad of one thousand naira notes and… Indian hemp wrapped in white paper and a brown powder in Ziploc bags – three grams of each at least. One of the ziploc bag of heroin was half closed…meaning someone here just… there could be only one explanation.
Vanessa turned to the door that led to the hallway which connected the rest of the house frowning in suspicion. She looked at the rest of the long kitchen surface. She found the lighter on the table, a swab of cotton wool and a table spoon were in the sink. Vanessa’s breathing became long and deep and her face bony. Her chubby face didn’t look so friendly when she was angry. She stormed out of the kitchen in search of Banks. How dare he bring his junkie friend to their house?


***

Cindy used the snifter to draw a thin line of coke away from the little dump left on the tray. It was the fourth one in the last six hours. an ashtray on the dresser table next to the coke tray was filled with ash and at least fifteen cigarette butts. She wore a red, long sleeve night gown. She reached for the syringe on the tray with the brownish liquid in its compartment and smiled in anticipation. She had prepared it when she woke from her nap (wasn’t long or deep enough to call sleep). She made a fist with her left hand, found her favorite vein (the one at the crook of her left arm) and shot it all in. Her eyes rolled up and she threw her head backward sniffing and exhaling through her mouth. She lost her balance and gripped the dressing table with her free hand to steady herself. She slowly slid to the floor with her eyes closed and waited for it. Silence. Peace. Five seconds. Fifteen seconds. The feeling kept heightening. Thirty seconds. She was feeling raptured now. She leaned on one limb of her dresser chair and dropped her head backwards on the chair. The calmness washed over her slowly. Dulling her aches. Quieting her thoughts. Relaxing her frayed nerves. Serenity for the moment. She allowed her mind to float away. Her body went limp and her muscles relaxed. Drift.
She heard herself snore from faraway. Like she’d left her body, and was… drifting; a panicky thought. However, footsteps close by distracted her.
“Cindy!” A male voice called in an audible whisper. Cindy started. Her heart missed a beat. The voice was familiar. His voice.
“Cindy, are we set?” The male voice whispered.
Cindy frowned. The question was strangely familiar. She’d been asked this question…once…when? Cindy felt her face recoil in horror. No wonder the voice was familiar. It was de ja vu. No, not de ja vu. He wasn’t back. This wasn’t happening. She was dreaming it. Again. She used to dream it every night for three months after it happenedy. She thought she was past it.
“Dennis!” She called back.
“I’m here!”
She heard him behind her and whirled around to see him step out of a dark corner and walk towards her.
It was the dream alright, but she felt awake. She could feel her hair whip across her face as a little gust of harmattan wind blew in from the open windows in her bedroom although she was so gone into the dream to do anything about it. Her heart beat longingly for him. She wanted to brush the hair of her lips to open her mouth and warn them about the imminent disaster. She couldn’t, trapped in the nightmare - a helpless watcher. She tried to speak but no sounds came out. A play thing for de ja vu, bound to experience the harrowing event again. Tears welled both her eyes as she watched.
Dennis walked to her and hugged her briefly. He felt as slim and fit as he was. A lawn tennis champion in his university days, he still played the game as a hobby. His reading glasses helped him see clearer at night, she remembered. “I wasn’t sure it was you. But I’m glad you chose to come.” He took her light luggage from her.

Cindy looked around. They were outside the lodge. There was no one else along the street at that time of the night. She was surreptitious.
“Where is your car?” She asked him.
“Just down the road. I couldn’t risk parking so close to the lodge.” Dennis pointed in one direction without looking. Cindy looked and noticed the headlamps of an approaching vehicle in the distance.
Cindy whimpered in her…sleep…trance…hallucination. Once more she tried to open her mouth and warn them but remained the dumb onlooker to the most familiar and traumatic event in her life.
Dennis was speaking. “I’ve made all the arrangements. We’re leaving for Ghana first thing tomorrow. I got your passport in my office drawer at home.”
“Dennis look!” Cindy heard herself say.
Dennis followed Cindy’s pointed fingers. The vehicle was much more closer now. Dennis was startled. He took Cindy’s hand and they began walking towards his car parked a few yards ahead. They didn’t make it halfway when they noticed a second set of headlamps turn the corner ahead of them. They panicked and broke to a run. They had barely made it to the car when the vehicle behind them when the vehicle behind them pulled up. Dennis unlocked the Ford Jeep with its remote key and went around to get to the driver side. She was torn between herself. She should've told him, but she was a coward. She wouldn't be able to bear his face when he realized she'd betrayed him, but all Sting had promised was to negotiate an arrangement, which meant Sing was open to an offer.
“Get in!” He shouted. He opened his door and was about to enter when he noticed that Cindy had stopped. He could see her face thanks to the headlamps of the vehicle that had just pulled up behind her. She was staring at him as if her limbs won’t move any further. Dennis frowned at her. “What is wrong? Why won’t you…?”
Cindy’s voice was subdued. “He just wants to talk.”
“What?” He asked dumbly; it was slow dawning on him… or he just didn’t want to believe what his ears were telling was telling him.
“He said he knows where your mother stays…he said he’ll kill her… and your little sister if I don’t…if I don’t…”
Dennis eyes widened finally. “Jesus! Cindy!” He saw a lone figure alight from truck behind them. He had a handgun in his left hand.
The second vehicle arrived and pulled up beside them. Sting was behind the wheels. “You both going somewhere?” He asked with an easy smile.

Dennis was dumbfounded. He stared at Cindy with disbelief. He suddenly broke into a run, heading past Sting’s truck. A shot rang out and he felt the sting on his left leg which crumbled under him at his next step. He heard Cindy screaming amidst the pain blur in his head.
“What are you doing? You promised you won’t shoot him!” Cindy shouted at Sting. “I don’t have my gun on me…plus he was running away and we haven’t gotten to talk yet, have we? So where was he running off to?”
The warm liquid which was his blood bathed Dennis' feet and he felt it go gummy in between his toes. He gritted his teeth at the pain and reckoned he won’t be alive for long, judging by what Sting just said. He heard the footsteps approaching. He turned face in their direction and saw Sting almost above him, with the others a few paces out.
Sting laughed at the terror in Dennis’ eyes. The guy was clutching his bleeding leg. Tears glistened in his eyes and he shook in fear. “Please,” Dennis begged him.
Spencer and Cindy arrived.
“I warned you. Yet here you are eloping with my girl.” Sting growled.
“Please. I’ll leave town. I swear. I’ll never come back… just…”
Sting nodded at Spencer who aimed at Dennis’ forehead and shot him. Cindy screamed…
… And jolted awake stifling hers. She choked when she heard shuffling feet at her bedroom door. Then the knocks came.
They weren’t knocks as much as they were blows on her bedroom door. One round of heavy pounding on her door was enough to serve the purpose though for she was awake the next instant with one thought in her mind – Sting. He’d come for her finally. Cindy was on her feet, grabbed her robe from her dresser chair to cover herself with and shuffled towards the door. She stopped to clean the corner of her mouth and eyes.
“Who is it?” She asked.
“Kunle! Open up!” A male voice said from the other side of the door.
Cindy blinked in surprise, then remembered… Spencer had been in an accident. She opened the door and saw Kunle standing there. She stood aside for him to enter the room. Kunle walked past into the room looking around.
“This is a surprise,” Cindy said, leaning on the doorway.
Kunle turned to find her watching him suspiciously. “Been a while I came in here.” He sat on her bed.
Cindy looked around her room. “I haven’t changed anything. So it can’t be that different.” She closed the door behind her but remained on her guard.
“I mean the feeling, not the look. Been a while…”
Cindy nodded still not moving from the door. “What are you doing here Kunle?”
“Cindy…” He sounded soft. He stopped himself and grimaced. He got off the bed like he was clamoring out of whatever reminisces suddenly washing over him and hardened his expression. “Get dressed… Sting wants to see you.”
“Where?” Cindy wasn’t surprised.
“Where else? Go on…take a bathe… I’ll wait right here…”

Gamesound:
ah ah... what's happenin, "Of All The Stories In Nairaland"..............

Work happened. I sincerely apologize. A publisher contacted to express his interest and make me stop the updates. Just went through their deal and it isn't good enough, so much I'd rather publish it myself and put it up for free. Anyways, I've been on the road all day and my brain is scrambled right now, but I promise to put up chapter nine and ten tomorrow. I'd be good once I get some sleep. Thanks for the understanding, I won't let y'all down again.

tobex23:
Lol, I knew I couldn't be wrong, nice story you've got here. And your description is on point. Waiting for more update, wouldn't be bad if one drops tonight though.

Too bad, I have to focus on my script deadline. I'd take time off tomorrow morning to update. Sorry.

tobex23:
And the way you describe the sex, the drugs, I can't help but doff my hat RESPECT.......

I was told ur not a good writer if your not honest with your descriptions. Especially since dis is not a fantasy story.

tobex23:
wow!!!
Johnnysprugeon! This is a wonderful story.
I was feeling heal today. Thanks to your story, I feel better much, you write well, and smooth.

Mr Lobos, why does that name sound so familiar with that of a drug dealer in Power?

Lol yea, the movie inspired a lot. Ghost, his friend, dia choice of women. That was a very well written story. Tried to get the script but they turned my request down. Guess it's too soon.

I'd be back with more updates guys. Thanks as usual for all your encouragements and comments. Thumbs up to the ghost readers as well.

Back to my script. See y'all tomorrow.

***

Andy had gotten in behind the wheels from where he watched the headlamp of the vehicle approaching in the distance opposite him. It was long past thirty minutes, but he was close enough to hear any commotions in the compound, of which there had been none. Only one other vehicle had driven past since Banks entered lodge and it had come from behind him. He’d had jitters, the magnitude he’d never thought he’d ever find himself having. He’d called Tunde who for whatsoever reason didn’t pick his call. But that car had disappeared down the curve ahead. Hopefully, this was a passer-by. As it got closer to the building, he realized it was a Hilux truck and it was slowing down. It stopped just opposite the gate and killed its headlights. Andy dialed Banks’ number only to get network busy. He almost hit the wheels in frustration but stopped himself before his hand hit the horn button. He tried Banks’ number again

Spencer alighted from the car and frowned at the car parked a few blocks away. He couldn’t make out the model of the car for it was dark already. He was in a hurry to meet up with Sting anyway. He went to the back seat and took out a school bag. The plan was to leave the bag with Cindy to distribute to the rest of the girls. He carried the bag across to the gate and heard a cell phone suddenly ring out. The gate opened just as he got to it. He was surprised to see a stranger exiting, digging for a ringing phone from one of his trouser pockets. No, not a stranger, for he seemed familiar. It was when Lade exited after him with a light luggage that Spencer recognized him. He was taken aback. They both wore the same surprised look on their faces. Like they’d just been caught red-handed. Like when he had been caught with his hand under the Reverend’s fourteen year old daughter’s skirt in the dark barn behind his father’s house when he was fifteen. Spencer threw a glance at the car parked ahead and put two ‘n’ two together.

But that was all Banks needed. He’d recovered from his shock a lot earlier with the realization that it had been too much to hope he’d get in and out of a compound owned by Sting without confrontation. He saw his chance when Spencer turned again to frown at the car. Banks swung a heavy right fist at Spencer’s face and felt his nose cartilage crack on impact.

Spencer staggered at the unexpected punch but stayed on his feet, his surrounding disappearing briefly in a mirage of blinding stars.

“Lade! Quick! Over there! He pointed Lade to the car. Shock and fright had numbed her brain when she saw Spencer. Banks’ shout sent jolts through her brain enough to will her legs to run towards the car she now saw parked down the street before she could think of it. All her mind could think of was that there was no going back now. She was in this now and would be running from Sting for the rest of Sting’s existence or her life – whichever outlasted the other.

Spencer got his bearing at the sound of running feet and turned in time to see the sucker punch coming. Experience kicked in. He leaned back enough for Banks to miss his second and punched back catching Banks square on the jaw. His vision got clearer with every split second.

Spencer head-butted Banks and wrestled him to the floor and got astride him, felt him try to dislodge him from underneath, tightened his knees and rained the blows on his face. Lade was forgotten in that moment. Revenge for his broken, bleeding nose and humiliation on the other night overtook anything else.

Andy was afraid the commotion the fighters were making would attract others. He leaned over to open the front passenger door to Lade who’d just arrived at the car. He turned on the inner light of the car and nodded at her. She seemed relieved to see it was him. She got in and gasped when she noticed Spencer on top of Banks.

“Oh my God! I thought he was right behind me!” Andy shook his head and looked at her. Despair was painted all her face. She looked at him and saw anger in that brief look – anger directed at her, it seemed to her. “Someone will hear soon enough, and then it’ll get worse,” she said.

Andy grunted in agreement. He turned the key in the ignition. The engine started. He pumped the gas and the engine revved. He turned on the headlamps.
It was the sound of the engine revving and the headlamps that broke Spencer’s concentration. He looked around and saw the headlamps bearing down on him.

Banks, who had spent a better of the past minute parrying blows even though a few had connected, recognized his opportunity when it finally came. He’d felt Spencer’s thighs slacken when he turned and didn’t wait another second. Decorum to the wind; this was a street fight and not a wrestling match. Banks grabbed Spencer’s balls through his loose chinos trousers and squeezed his nuts hard.

Spencer’s screamed like a banshee ghost just come alive. He jerked off Banks, but not quick enough. Banks scrambled to his feet after Spencer not letting go of his balls. Spencer threw Banks a punch in a weak attempt to dislodge him. Banks held on and only squeezed some more. The next series of screams died in Spencer’s throat. He lurched, and bent over Banks’ grip like he was going to vomit. He squealed instead. His jaws fell open as short gasps escaped his mouth. His eyes were red and wide open like he was seeing a trance. His pain was so much it was telepathic. Banks winced and shuddered involuntarily. He released Spencer’s balls and kneed him on his stomach.

Spencer had only one thought in his mind which was to get away from his opponent. He staggered on weak knees, still bent over, into the path of the approaching headlamps of the Mercedes. The car didn’t even stop. It hit him straight on. Spencer got thrown to the side of the road and rolled into the ditch.

Multiple startled cries only meant they’d been discovered. Banks’ blood froze. He turned to see a few girls from Lade’s compound who were watching from the gate. It was Spencer’s screams that had brought them out he reckoned, as he began to run after the Mercedes. Andy braked long enough for Banks to catch up, open the back door and jump in, before hightailing it out of the street like their lives depended on it, a vice grip on the wheels.

Lade climbed into the back next to Banks sprawled in the back seats catching his breath. He sat up to make space for her to seat in. He tried to smile to reassure her in her frightened state but failed. His face was raw and bloody from the beating Spencer had given him. In dim lights in the car, she could see his shirt was dirty

“You’re not going back,” he croaked.

Lade’s eyes misted. She nodded in agreement. She wasn’t going back, she repeated in her head. She wasn’t really clear on where she was going but she shared his resolve. He believed in her enough to risk his life fighting goons and killers. She wasn’t going to let him down. She reached for him with her right hand, her fingers trembling. Banks took her hand in his and squeezed it. A temporary calm encapsulated her anxiety. She sank back on the seat feeling like, maybe they stood a chance.

A tiny chance. She left her hand in his staring ahead, welcoming in her head whatever the future held – for the both of them. Life may have been cruel in the past, but time heals, or so they say – even if the clinic was a long drive.

Then, they heard a knock on the door. They both froze. Fright leaped into Lade’s eyes. She saw Banks sit up and signaled him to enter the adjourning kitchen. Banks obeyed immediately. He got to his feet and tip-toed out of the room. He was amazed at the contrast. It was tidy and fully equipped. Unlike the bedroom. He noticed the adjourning restroom, ignored it and listened.

He heard a second knock on the door and heard Lade ask with a clear voice. “Cindy, is that you?” Someone responded. Next, he heard the door unlock and parted the curtains to peep. He saw Lade open the door to peep outside.

Lade looked past Cindy’s shoulder to look at both ends of the corridor. Cindy’s lips widened in a knowing smile. She had a purse.

“Nicky,” she began. “Are you hiding something in there?” Her voice was teasing.

Lade rolled her eyes at Cindy and opened the door wider for Cindy to walk past her into the room. Lade locked it after her and went back to her packing without sparing her a glance.

Cindy saw Banks standing by the door into the kitchen but didn’t acknowledge his presence. Her gaze swept the room and saw Lade zipping up her small luggage. Cindy walked over to her just as she slung the bag’s strap over her shoulder.

“Are you sure you want to go with him?” Cindy asked.

Lade nodded and finally looked up at her, unable to hide her apprehension further.

Cindy smiled at her. “I knew you’d be brave enough to do the right thing. Come here.” They hugged each other. Cindy released Lade, then unzipped her purse to show Lade its contents. Lade gasped and rubbed her nose, throwing a quick glance at Banks who watched them from the kitchen doorway. Cindy zipped the bag and handed it to her. Lade hesitated and scratched her nose.

Cindy shrugged. “Call it my send forth gift. Anything you like.”

“But I can’t! It’s too much. I may not need it, since I’m…”

Cindy interrupted. “For… con…contingencies, right?” She smiled at the word. “For just in case… Look, it’s a crazy world out there, and I’m happy for you…” she shrugged

Banks walked towards them. “It’s okay Lade,” he said. “Take whatever you think you may need. We’ll figure it out later.”

Lade nodded. She couldn’t hide the relief and gratitude on her face as she took the purse from Cindy. It was almost embarrassing, but she was with her friends.

“Hopefully, she won’t need it.” Cindy said to Banks who nodded.

“We need to go while we still can.” He looked at his watch. It’d been almost thirty minutes since he left the Andy at the car.

Lade hugged Cindy again, looking like she was going to break down in tears. “You can come along, you know. You too can leave all this and start a normal life.”

Cindy chuckled and gently pulled away from the hug. Her smile was a sad one. “That route for me has come and gone. People like me can’t change anymore. Anything else will be pretense.”

“That’s not true,” Banks interjected. “We all can change. It’s just easier not to.”

Cindy smiled wistfully, recalling memories she’d rather not share and shook her head as if to shake them away. She took a step forward in Banks direction and hugged him. “You’re a good man, Peter,” she said. “I know you’d take good care of her. Good luck.” Banks nodded. She turned to Lade whose eyes were swollen with tears already.

“This life is shit Cindy!” Lade said. “Just stay alive! It’ll be better for both of us. I know it deep in my heart.”

Cindy nodded “Better for you, I pray. You’re so much better than this and you’re lucky to find a guy who sees you too. the real you. Now, it’s time to go, Nicky. Let’s not waste any further time on talk. We’ve been lucky so far.”

Her last hug with Lade was brief. Cindy watched her exit the room. The tears rolled freely now, and she didn’t bother holding any of it back. Finally, this was something she could remember with pride. Assuming she survived long enough to see the end of it. This was just the beginning of it. She sat on Lade’s bed and scrolled through her cell phone. She found it – Danny’s picture. He was so roguishly handsome. The tears resumed.

“I’m not a coward,” she stuttered in between fresh sobs. Presence of fear is common sense. It isn’t the absence of courage. But she knew it wasn’t entirely true. When she’d needed to show her courage she had been too afraid to do the right thing.

Cindy shook the depressing thoughts out of her head. She’d done something good today even if it came nowhere close to making up for what she’d done in the past.

***

Lade’s eyes were glued to the TV screen watching A NIGHT OF A THOUSAND LAUGHS; an annual, local comedy show which featured the best comedians in the country. Only, Lade’s face was drawn. She didn’t find the artiste’s antics funny as he gallivanted around the stage. She picked up the remote from the floor beside her and switched the channel. The next was cartoon. She switched without a second thought. The next showed a pastor preaching. The next was something even less interesting. She sighed and turned it off.

She got up and stretched, yawning. She was wearing a yellow, long sleeve sweater and black jean shorts that stopped mid-thigh. She went to pee in the bathroom, limping. There hadn’t been any fracture, just a little swelling were a ligament tore. It’d heal at its own pace, the doctor had said. She flushed the toilet, rinsed her hand in the sink and came out to ransack her table top refrigerator for something to drink when she heard the knock on the door.

It sounded quick, yet timid, different from Cindy’s loud knocks which she’d become accustomed to. She frowned. Then it sounded again, a bit more urgent. Lade limped into the bedroom filled with trepidation. No, if it was Sting or Spencer, the buzz would already be in the air before they got to her floor. It had to be Cindy checking up on her again.
“I no sabi which day wey you turn nurse Cindy…” She pulled the locks. “I am an adult and capable of…” She threw open the door. “…taking care of myself.” The last part was a whisper. The shape of her mouth had become an incredulous 'O'.

Banks smiled at her. “Of course you are! May I come in?”

She pulled Banks by his shirt into the apartment, took a quick glance at the corridor behind him to ascertain it was empty and shut the door after her. She turned to face him. He was looking around the room. It was untidy as usual but that was the least of her troubles.

Banks turned to look at her more closely and frowned at the almost healed bruises on her face. She couldn’t even meet his gaze. Banks covered the space between them and wrapped his arm around her. She was slow in stepping out of his embrace before he locked her in. He felt her body wrack in silent sobs and relax against him. Her warm tears wet his neck. Banks planted soft, placating kisses on her locks, relishing the perfume of her shampoo. He kissed her forehead, then her temple, then the top of her eyes and trailed down to her left, salty cheek, then the corner of her lip.

She turned her head to capture his lips in hers and kissed him back. It was as hot as the last time. She whimpered when he bit her lower lip softly. She breathed him in and could only find out that she wanted more. She pushed him away and stepped back, almost stumbling, and frowned in confusion.

Banks ignored the question in her eyes and reached to touch the bruise on her cheek. “Sting hit you.” It was more of an assessment than a question.

‘It doesn’t matter,” She replied. “How did you find me?”

Banks stepped closer again. She stepped away. He gave up, or at least pretended to. “Your friend Cindy…”

“Cindy!” Lade was surprised.

“Yes, she found me and I came… as soon as I could.”

Lade turned to limp back to her bed. She sat on it, her face clouded by a thoughtful frown. Cindy had gone to look for Banks? Why? How? Okay, she’d told him a few things about the guy the other night she OD’d and yet she of all people knew how dangerous this was. She looked up and found him watching her intensely. Anger perhaps, and lots of concern.

“You shouldn’t have come,” She said. “It is risky and you know it.”

“Well, what was I to do? I had to, Lade. I had to see you again… to tell you…” he walked over to her bed and got down on one knee in front of her, taking her hand in his. He could see the fear and anxiety in her eyes as he did this.

“These past few days,” he continued. “…have been like…like I’ve been disconnected from myself. I’ve needed to tell you that, I don’t care what they say you’ve done. I don’t care what you’ve done Lade. I’ve been in love with you since as far back as I remember. I can’t deny that. I can’t overlook that. I love you. And it’s like my mother say; it is deep and dark… and dirty maybe… but I’ll gladly go there with you, as long as you feel for me the same way I feel for you. All we need is for you to give us a chance to start over, and I’ll do all in power to show you how it was meant to be… how it is supposed to be. Please come with me. I’m not afraid to help you if you’re willing to try.” Tears crept into his eyes as he spoke. His sincerity made the room so suffocating despite the fan.

Lade couldn’t help but start sobbing, her head falling low. Banks got off his knees and sat on the bed beside her. He took her arms in his, “please,” he said again and again. Almost despairing at her reluctance to leap at his suggestion. Olives. That was the shampoo’s fragrance. Nostagia threatened to break him.

Especially when she pulled away from him and looked him in the eye searching…

She saw sincerity. And fear. Uncertainty too. Yet he seemed resolved like there was no other way forward. In truth, this was the only way forward if this was what she wanted. Was it? How far can your feelings take you? Cindy’s question haunted. Nonetheless, she knew this was it. Her chance was knocking. She wasn’t going to die in some crappy hovel, a coke, brain-caked LovePeddler, owned by a drug dealing fiend who hit her and gave her no say in her own life. She used to be a normal university student once upon a time. Before shit hit the fan. The sweetest part of it all, it was the guy she actually loved who was asking. The only man who knew her well enough and still gave her the one thing she didn’t deserve. Respect.

She pushed Cindy’s question far from her mind. Wasn’t it still Cindy that went to find him? “I’ll pack a few things.” She said simply.

Banks pulled her into another hug, sighing in relief. Lade hugged him back, too frightened of the rest of it. A nagging anxiety tugged at the back of her mind that she said, “Now my life is in your hands, Peter. Strangely, I feel good about it.”

Banks released her from the hug and looked at her finding only the mirror image of his own sincerity. Lade got off the bed and went to the ward robe, took out a small travelling bag and started packing a few important clothes. Undies first. A few stay-at-home clothes. The toiletries and deodorants on the dresser table.

Banks settled back to watch her pack. He couldn’t believe he was going through with this. If anything went wrong now, they’d be in soup. He could lose her for good. What next now? Where would he take her? His mother was out of town. His studio was vacant. But they’ll be much safer at home, that is if Vanessa would be accommodating.

Vanessa! Now would be as good a time as any to call her and warn her he was bringing home a guest – Lade for that matter.

***

Banks took his time to get his answers right (or so he thought) even though he finished in record time. Composing himself was the harder part, but he organized his thoughts and emotions enough to focus on the questions on his papers. He couldn’t afford to flunk such an important paper regardless of the circumstances. He was out before anyone else though, without so much as a glance at Jennifer. He got into his car and drove off to find Cindy.

They talked. It felt good talking to someone who knew Lade too; not in the light the whole world saw her in, but up close, personal. They swapped stories about her… she told her the good ones anyway and he didn’t ask about the ugly ones – the ones Charlie told him at Barrister Juliet’s office.

Andy called just as they were about to leave and they had lunch while they waited for him to arrive. Andy entered the eating hall just as they finished. Cindy left for the ladies room while Banks updated him. Andy didn’t waste any time in making his position clear. He repeated a thousand and one reasons why Banks shouldn’t go looking for Lade, reasons Banks had already considered. He was single minded though and wouldn’t listen. He’d go alone if all Andy came to do was to nag him.

It was almost dusk when they drove past Lade’s apartment building and pulled up three blocks away. Cindy was in the back seat while Andy was in the shotgun seat.

“All that is left now is to convince her to leave with you. I could go up and try, but…”

Andy didn’t understand until he saw Banks nod at her. He jerked around in his seat to face Cindy with an incredulous look on his face. “So that was the plan all along. You lure him up into that building where your boss or his boys are waiting for him, then what?”

Banks sighed. “Relax Andy!”

“Unbelievable! We are about to enter the property of a love-vendor to steal one of his girls and you ask me to… especially when it smells so much like a fucking trap! Have you forgotten how to think? Send her to bring Lade down if she’s serious.”

Cindy rolled her eyes. “That was what I was trying to explain,” she said.

Banks grabbed Andy’s hand and tried squeezing the sense in. “Lade is not aware of all this! Do you understand, Andy? It isn’t her friend’s place to convince her. It’s has to be me. So yes, I’m going in there to see her and talk to her into coming with me. Yes, me!”

Andy pulled his hand from Banks grasp, sat properly in his seat and looked out the window without another word.

Cindy announced that she’d go in first just so as not to be seen with them. She gave Banks directions to Lade’s apartment and promised to meet him there. She alighted and they watched her walk back and enter the gated compound.

“Did you bring the gun at least?” Andy asked.

Banks shook his head. “I didn’t want her to know where my studio is.”

Andy sighed. His discomfort was unnerving.

Banks noticed three young ladies exit the same compound dressed in short, tight clothes that covered the essential parts but suggested a lot. They all headed in the opposite direction, talking as a group as they walked.

“This is crazy, Banks. No, worse, suicide! If anyone sees you…”

“I know.” Banks cracked his door open. Andy sighed and opened his too. “No, Andy you’ll wait here.”

If eyes could shoot daggers, Banks face would’ve gotten as pockmarked as an amateur's dart board after target practice. “The hell I am! I won’t allow you go in there alone. What if something goes wrong?”

“It’s just a lodge for his girls. No guys around. And it’s almost dark, I think I can slip around on my own.” Banks raised his hand to halt the fresh burst of arguments Andy was about to burst into. “We need a look out Andy, so shut it and stay! If I’m not back in thirty minutes, call Bayo and Tunde to help you figure it out.” He alighted and looked around. It was quiet. Just bushes around. The next house was quite some distance ahead of them. Maybe he’d get lucky and get through this half-baked crazy idea of his without a hitch.

Banks shrugged at Cindy’s puzzled look. “My friends are… fond of me.” He sighed. “You’re right,” he continued. “I don’t know why you are here. Did she send you? How is she? Where is she?”

Cindy was overwhelmed by his earnestness. “She didn’t send me. I have to come on my own because I am worried. She is at home. She is…” She hesitated.

The books seemed too heavy all of a sudden. He placed them on the top of his car. A gust of harmattan wind blew the cover page of the book on top open. Banks turned them around so that the books’ spines were in the way of the wind. He turned to catch her eye.

“She is what?” He hoped he didn’t sound half as anxious as he felt.

“She is… she’s hurting.”

Banks was astonished. “Hurting!” He repeated the troubling word.

“Two days ago, I came home from… work… and went to her apartment to see how she was faring. I found her unconscious on the bedroom floor. She had… she had overdosed on heroin and was dying.”

Banks jolted from the news. “My goodness! Which hospital is she in now?”

Cindy sneered. “Hospital ke! Sting doesn’t let us go to hospital. He brings a doctor to give us home care.”

Banks shook his head in disgust. He looked at Cindy and wondered at her motives for seeking him out.

Cindy knew mistrust when she saw one. She also knew where this one is coming from. “I know what you are probably thinking - that this is a trap.”

Banks shrugged. “The thought crossed my mind.”

“Well, it’s possible. It’s also possible that I care about Nicky… Lade as well. She is a good person… better than the rest of us. She deserves a better life, and while she has something better to run away to…” She faltered as her emotions became unhinged. “Don’t you think she should while she still can?”

Banks blinked in surprise. Here it was from another pair of lips. A smile tugged the corner of his lips. It was confirmation; love wasn’t blinding him. Someone else close to her really saw her for who she was. Somebody somewhere shouted a warning, interrupting them. Suddenly, all the students hanging around at the back of the lecture building got to their feet and entered inside while talking among themselves. Banks looked down at his wrist watch and sighed.

“Listen, Cindy…” he turned to the building’s back entrance to see Jennifer waiting for him.

“You have exams to write.”

“My finals. After this one, I’m free of this place. Will you wait for me to finish?”

Cindy frowned at the idea of hanging around campus.

“It won’t be long. Two hours tops, and I’ll be out.”

“Is there like a cafeteria, or somewhere I can wait? I don’t really like the idea of waiting out here for two hours.”

“There is a youth friendly center just behind the Etisalat building. All you have to do is write your name… or any name at all, they don’t ask for identification… on a registration book. You can…” He digs for his wallet and slips out a thousand-naira note. “…have a drink or play a game or watch a movie… anything that catches your fancy.”

Cindy declined the money, wished him good luck on his exam and left to follow his directions to the etisalat building.

For the first time since that awful night, he had a genuine smile even as he watched her walk away. It was rueful, but with a tinge of hope. He turned to go join Jennifer with Dr. Rose’s books under his arms and a spring on his step.

Jennifer noted his light hearted smile and nodded. “You’re going to see her again?”

“Yes, after the paper.” He took her hand in his.

“Will you take Andy at least, just in case?” Her major worry was for his security. Banks put an arm around her shoulder, nodded and together they walked into the building with the rest of their class for the last time.

***

Jennifer exited the back of the Achebe Auditorium, a three storey lecture building donated by the Chinua Achebe Foundation two years ago. Jennifer walked past the cars parked in rows of which her HONDA ELEMENT was one and continued across a tarred lane towards the large cluster of shade trees opposite. She wore black knee-length peplum dress with long sleeves made with lace and had a white Gucci school bag.

There were stone benches under the trees and a study group was immersed in their final revisions. Jennifer exchanged greetings with them and found herself a vacant bench. She looked at her wrist watch before opening her bag and taking her GALAXY tablet and browsed for her notes. She soon found her final summary of the semester work and started reading up.

“Excuse me,” a female voice interrupted her from behind. She looked up to see an older girl who wore fitted yellow top and blue jean trouser. Jennifer frowned when she didn’t recognize her. Cindy smiled and walked around the stone bench to sit next to her. “Sorry for interrupting,” she said.

Jennifer shrugged. “How may I help you?”

“I’m looking for a guy. I hear he is in your class. Those girls sitting over there said you would be able to help me locate them.”

Jennifer followed her pointed hand and saw a group of girls at a car lot at a neighboring lecture building. She felt perplexed but tried a smile. “Does he have a name?”

“Yes, Peter.” When Jennifer didn’t act like she recognized the name, Cindy quickly added. “I understand his friends know him more as Banks.”

Jennifer raised her eyebrow. “Oh! I haven’t seen…” Just then they both saw Banks’ Mercedes convertible turn the corner of the building and park at the edge of the car lot. Hip hop music was playing at a low volume but everyone close by could hear the bass effect. The roof slid close and the music was switched off; the engine too but the driver stayed put.

“Hmm, you students get money o!” Cindy muttered.

Jennifer frowned at her. Whoever she was, she obviously didn’t know Banks well enough. “Why do you want to see Banks?”

Cindy hesitated. She looked at the red convertible again and narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Is that he?”

“You haven’t answered me,” Jennifer replied.

“I have a message for him, something… personal.”

Jennifer eyed her. She looked harmless enough. Moreover, Banks could take care of himself alright. She had promised herself she’d stay off his case.

“I was going to say hi to him anyway, come…” She said despite herself.

They both got to their feet and walked towards the convertible.

Cindy had never felt tense walking up to a guy before. This was the guy that hadn’t hesitated to take on Sting, Spencer, Kunle and Ben to protect Nicky… and he drove a convertible, how awesome! She took in deep breaths to calm her nervous state and walked behind Jennifer. Her mind wandered as to what her guide’s relationship was with the guy. She’d suddenly seemed protective of him.

Banks saw them through his side mirror as they approached his car. He didn’t recognize Jennifer’s friend. He alighted and went to open the back door to take out a few text books. Jennifer and Cindy arrived just as he shut the door.

“Jenny, hi!” He greeted.

Jennifer’s head was tilted and her eyes riveted on the books in his arm instead. She read out the title that caught her attention. “Dave Kobrenski! DJOLIBA CROSSING! I never knew you had this book.” The shared a half-hug.

“It’s not mine. Borrowed it from Dr. Rose two months ago for my project proposal - the rest of them too. I’m returning them to her after the exams.”

Jennifer took it from him and looked at the cover before giving it back. “So, ready for your finals?”

“It’s just Art Methods and Rhetoric. A two-credit unit course.”

Jennifer smiled. “I’m glad one of us is optimistic which means I’d sit right beside you."

Banks laughed. "As if you haven't crammed the entire note into that photocopier brain of yours."

Jennifer chuckled. "Don't I wish you are right. How are you doing?”

“I’m fine.” He replied off-handedly. “Who is your friend? I don’t think I’ve seen her before.”

Jennifer eyes widened in remembrance and turned to Cindy with an apologetic smile. “Sorry…”

Cindy shrugged. She offered Banks a handshake. “Hi, I’m Cindy. I’ve been looking for you all over campus.”

Banks’ blood ran cold and he did a double take. “Cindy? Uhm... Lade’s friend?” He asked. The hope in his voice was unmistakable.

“Who is Lade?” Cindy asked looking puzzled.

Banks flushed in embarrassment. Jennifer felt awkward standing there. Of all the assumptions to make…

“Wait! You mean Nicky, right? Yes! I am so used to calling her Nicky that I forget her real name is Lade.”

Banks looked relieved. “Of course it is! This is a pleasant surprise!” He had his easy going smile out now.

“Really? You don’t even know why I am here.”

Banks’ smile faded the next instant. Of course she was her for Lade. Had she sent Cindy? Was Lade in trouble? He looked at Jennifer, uncomfortable that she was listening in on the conversation. Jennifer understood the look even though it had been brief.

“I think I should excuse you guys. Banks, I’ll come get you once the invigilators arrive.” She squeezed his arm and patted it, walking away with her head high and the early sting of tears in her eyes.

CHAPTER EIGHT


The wharf guard on duty that early morning was Mensah. He was up on his feet with sweaty brows pacing the entrance into the gate. He looked at his wristwatch and puffed at his cigarette like he was choking for it. Three a.m. They were supposed to be here already. In a few hours, he'd sign out and hand over to his successor. More so, he needed that money for his sick son. The shrill ring of his cell phone startled him so much his cigar dropped. He took out his phone and answered it.

“You’re late today,” Mensah said, frowning at his shaky voice.

“We are only two minute out,” the soft voice that could only belong to Spencer mentioned. All Mensah heard next was the end tone. He looked at the phone screen with a scowl, lit another cigarette and waited.

Fifteen minutes later, a white van marked in German words and a green Mercedes 190 was parked between two rows of large containers just come in from sea. Kunle was behind the wheels of a tractor with a forklift waiting. Four others including Ben waited beside Spencer who unlocked one container and threw its doors open. The container had a lot of cartons sealed off with tape. Spencer stood aside and supervised while Ben and another of the group produced jack knives from their pockets and cut off the tapes with vertical swipes. Spencer moved in with the tractor and scooped a cube of three cartons (three rows on three columns), reversed and turned to deposit the load at the open rear of the white van. He made five similar trips, loading the cartons into the back of three white vans altogether. He reversed the tractor towards another row of containers and alighted. He checked his wristwatch and hurried to join the rest of the group. Spencer locked the container and they all dispersed into the vans. Wheels up, they drove for the gate in a convoy.

At the gate Spencer in the lead van passed Mensah a fat, brown envelope and drove off while Mensah locked the gates after the last had exited the yard. The three vans got to an intersection on the road and turned in different directions.

There were three lines of coke next to a half filled Ziploc bag containing more cocaine and a thin hollow bamboo stick about three inches long on a silver tray on Sting’s office desk. There was also a phone, two empty bottles of beer. Sting was leaned back on his chair with his legs crossed on top of the desk. He was staring blankly with half closed eyes out of the window at the just dawning day. His cell phone rang. He swung of his desk and placed an unfinished beer bottle on the table. He took out his phone, pressed the answer key and raised it to his ear to listen.

The report was short and straight to the point and got his eyes wide. “You better keep him in your sight till I call you, Khalifa I’m coming myself.” He ended the call.

He picked his bamboo snifter and bent over the plate to do a line. He put the plate into his topmost drawer and opened the lowest one to take out his nine millimeter gun. He took out a carton of bullets from the same drawer and shut it. He checked the clip on his gun and found it filled. He opened the carton, took out an empty clip and began to fill it with bullets.

He called Spencer when he was done. “Where are you guys?”

“At the garage, transferring the goods.”

Sting checked his wristwatch and nodded. “Khalifa called. When you’re done at the garage, send Kunle to me. Tell him to bring his gun.”

“Okay Sting.”

“Don't forget to take something to the girls tonight.”

“No problem Sting. I’ll call you when we get to the warehouse.”

Sting ended the call, pocketed the refilled clip and left his office.

I'll like to take time out to thank you again for reading and commenting. Work calls, but I'd be back by my lunch break with the next chapter. I love y'all.

***


Cindy inserted the key into the lock of the backdoor into Lade’s apartment. She had taken a spare the previous night when she was leaving. She wanted access into the house without having to call for its owner. And for good reason.

Cindy entered the house and locked it behind her. She walked across the balcony at the back into the kitchen and on into the adjourning bedroom.

The instant Cindy saw Lade, she knew something was wrong. Lade was sprawled on the floor somewhere between her dressing table and the bed, lying still on her back with her eyes shut. Her house robe was parted lewdly showing her panties and bare thighs. Cindy saw the thin leather belt was coiled loosely around her upper arm and gasped in panic. Cindy’s bag dropped from her hand to the floor. She hurried closer, muttering a silent prayer that she still be alive. She saw the syringe at the foot of the dressing table and there was no further mistaking what had happened.

“Lade!” Cindy called sounding apprehensive. She kicked Lade’s foot.

No reply.

She stooped over Lade’s body and shook her. Lade’s skin felt hot but was dry and her breathing was very shallow. Her fair-complexioned face had a bluish tinge on her lips. She stifled a sob, paused to look around the room and collect her thoughts. She had to call Sting to send for the doctor, but first she had to try to revive her.

She blinked back the tears stinging her eyes. She tried to lift Lade into her arms but was unsuccessful. Lade was limp and heavy. She exhaled. Drag her then. Cindy grabbed Lade by both arms and dragged her across the floor towards the adjourning kitchen. The linoleum folded under Lade’s dragging body but Cindy went on nonetheless. Slowly but steadily, they got into the kitchen and on into the bathroom.

She pulled Lade under the shower nozzle on the tiled bathroom floor. The toilet bowl was closed as always and a roll of tissue papers was on top of the toilet’s water tank. Cindy stripped Lade of the house robe and went to turn on the shower and water sprayed out of the nozzle down to Lade’s semi-nude body. Cindy went to kneel beside her and cradled her head in her arms.

The water fell on them both and on to the nearby water cistern. Cindy looked down at her friend’s unconscious face in her arms. Her tears began to roll freely.

She shook Lade roughly. “Nicky, you’re too smart to die like this!” She shook her some more. She thought of going out to call the neighbors for help but clamped down on the idea. Help in what capacity, other than be first-eye witnesses to a hot new gossip? Moreover, Nicky wouldn’t want that. She slapped Lade’s face.

“Wake up Nicky!” Another slap. “Come on!” And another, getting harder with each successful hit. She laid her down on the tiles and started pumping her chest with both hands, stopping only to blow air into her nose only to start the sequence all over again. She stopped after the fourth round and sat back on her heels, sobbing in helpless despair.

A full minute went past. Suddenly, Lade’s head shot up, gasping for air and choking at the water she breathed in instead. Cindy quickly moved in to cover her from the spray. She felt Lade panic and make a weak attempt to fight her off. Cindy stood up to turn off the tap then scooped a wheezy and shivering Lade into her arms. She massaged her heart through her still hot skin while Lade tried to get her breathing back to normal.

Lade opened her eyes finally and Cindy smiled. Her pupils were drowsy, narrow slits.

“Cindy,” she managed weakly.

“You stupid… very stupid girl! You have so much going for you! Why would you want to kill yourself?” Cindy was scowling already even though her eyes were still misty from crying.

“I’m… cold.” Lade slurred her words.

Her skin still felt hot to Cindy. The girl needed a doctor. Time to call Sting. She helped Lade back into the bedroom, tucked her into the bed to sleep. Cindy found her cell phone in her purse and walked into the kitchen to make the call.

***

Lade pulled the Ziploc bag open with slightly shaky hands. The brown powder in it was almost finished. She frowned. The bag had been full three days ago. Cindy must have taken some without telling her. Why, she’d gone on a length sermon in the morning about how she was doing too much. Sneaky hypocrite, she was.

She winced at the throb in her right temple and rubbed her head with one hand. It would be enough for one more fix. She took the large plastic spoon which was on her dresser table and tapped some of the powder into the spoon, after which she lifted the transparent bag to her eye level to ascertain what was left and caught her image at the dresser mirror. The dark rings around her eyes had faded but her eyeballs were sunken, her cheek bones were visible and there was dried scab at the corner of her mouth where Sting had slapped her. It would definitely leave a scar. Nothing some serious make-up won’t cover. She sighed. She hated make up. She looked thin and unhealthy in her house robe. Her collar bones were a bit more visible than usual.

Sting had almost raped her. She tried to push the thought out and failed. The dreaming was over. There was no way Peter will love her now. This was all she was. A LovePeddler. Okay, a little better than a call girl like the others, but still, what was the difference if Sting chose not to be so gracious anymore? Even the underworld where she’d been useful as an errand girl and a snoop now knew who held her leash. She had no skills other than tricks of her trade.

The rest of the brown stuff couldn’t be more than a couple pinches anyway. Why save it for later? She upended the bag into the spoon and threw the bag away. The spoon was filled up more than usual, but she could handle it. She felt like her heart was slowing down. She sat on the chair beside her and bounced her knees in unconscious anticipation for her high. She got out her lighter and a used syringe from one of the dresser drawers. There was a cup of water on the table.

Lade placed the spoon on the table, careful not to spill any of the heroin. She took the lighter and chucked a blue flame out of it running it over the needle for a few seconds. She dropped the lighter and drew water from the cup with the syringe which she pushed into the spoon enough to cover the powder. Her hand shook a bit when she lifted the spoon and spilled a drop on her lap. She muttered curse. Again, she took the lighter, chucked up a blue flame and held it under the spoon such that the tip of the flame didn’t touch the spoon but the heat from the flame was enough to dissolve the already dissipating brown powder under the water. Soon, it was all dissolved. She reached carefully for her ash tray which was also on the table and took a cigarette butt smoked clean of all nicotine and dropped it on the clear liquid on the spoon. Her hand shook again from holding the spoon steady for too long, but managed not to spill anything this time. She took her syringe and stuck the needle into the filter end. She drew all the liquid into the syringe using her thumb to pull back the chamber. It seemed fuller than usual.

Lade was sure she could handle it. Why not? The usual wasn’t doing it for her anymore. The fix she had that morning had faded long before noon. She wanted to be high and stay high. That way, she wouldn’t have to think. She wouldn’t have to remember.

***

He was sitting at lunch at a corner inside PARADISE KITCHEN watching the quiet street outside absent-mindedly while Tunde, Bayo and Andy argued next to him. They were all picking at the last of their lunch out of courtesy for Banks who hadn’t gone through half of his. There was no need to bring it up. They knew what was up with him.

A text message vibrated on his phone. He took out his phone, read the message and pushed away his plate. He took his bottle of water. “Be right back guys,” he said and got to his feet to exit the restaurant ignoring Andy’s questioning glance.

He went out to where his Wrangler was parked next to Tunde’s car among a few others in the lot. He read the message on his phone again. It was from Barrister Juliet and simply said CALL ME ASAP. That meant news – his ignorance was becoming annoyingly monotonous. Any added news he could act on was indeed welcome. He made the call and listened to it ring till it got picked on the other end.

“Hello Jules!”

“Hmm… you sound… eager…”

“How do you mean?” He frowned. He wasn’t in the mood for her psychoanalysis.

“Like you’ve been waiting to hear from me…”

Banks forced a half laugh. “Shouldn’t I? It’s been a week since we talked.”

“Abi!” She paused to talk to someone else for a moment, then she was back on the phone. “Okay, how about lunch?”

“I was in the middle of lunch with some friends when you called. But I can break out. I think they are done anyway.”

“Well, call me back when you’re free. I’ll tell you where to meet us.”

“Us?” He frowned with apprehension.

“Oh… the private investigator I hired… He’d bring you up to speed himself.”

Banks eyes widened at the prospect of something new. Anything would do. “Awesome! Thanks!”

“Don’t thank me yet Peter.” She didn’t sound like she shared his excitement. “This is just a heads up… none of it is good.”

Banks zoned out at that, wondering what could be worse than what he already knew. He remembered the gun hidden safely at his studio. He heard Juliet call his name over and over on the phone and returned his attention to the conversation. “I’ll call you back in five minutes. Let me deal with my guys.”

“Okay! Don’t forget your check book though!”

He chuckled and ended the call.

Thirty minutes later, he drove into the parking lot outside ADEWOLU HOUSE – a thirteen storey office building in the middle of Adewolu avenue off Airport road. Banks found himself a spot to park and alighted. There was a busy restaurant and a quiet stationery shop at the ground floor. He headed for the lobby instead.

He rode the elevator to the law chambers at the topmost floor, alighted and was directed to Barrister Juliet’s office by the receptionist at the floor’s lounge.

Barrister Juliet’s office was small but not cramped. There was a low hum of the air conditioner which sounded like an overhead drone hovering annoyingly close by. The floor was tiled. The furniture had class and the papers and books were either neatly stacked on her desk or shelved at the cabinet hung on the wall.

She was behind her desk typing on one of two laptops on her sturdy table. A middle-aged man in a dark gray suit and no tie sat at one of the chair in the office reading a PUNCH newspaper. He was balding and had ring on which said he was married.

Barrister Juliet looked up from her laptop at Banks’ entrance and smiled.

“There you are!” She closed her books and put them in a drawer. The bald man looked up from his newspaper at Banks as he walked in to seat opposite Juliet at her desk.

“I’m sorry. Traffic was a drag at the bridge. You look good.”

Juliet frowned and pulled at the left lapel of her suit consciously. “That’s a first.”

“Well, never say I never paid you one.” Banks replied, turning to take a good look at the man in the gray suit who had returned to his newspaper.

“That’s Charles Anya, the Private Investigator I mentioned. We met at an insurance scam case a year ago. Three lorry heads went missing from a transport company’s fleet. The company pressed its claims and the insurance people called Charles to investigate. Turned out the CEO knew all about its sale at Asaba.”

Banks turned to give a second look, this time with a bit more interest than earlier. “Come, sit closer.” He pointed at a vacant chair beside him.

Charles got to his feet. He was tall and looked younger than Banks had earlier imagined. He took off his reading glasses as he sat next to Banks.

“I’m Peter Bankole,” Banks said offering him a handshake. “Call me Banks if you like.”

“Peter will do,” Juliet interjected. “I don’t know where you picked up that awful nickname… Makes you sound like an arrogant bastard.” Juliet was in informal mode which meant she was pleased they were getting along.

“They are all just names, right Charles?” He looked at his wristwatch like he had better things to do than pining away at the studio, thinking about Lade. “Anyway, what have you guys done with the little information I gave about my friend Lade?”

Juliet and Charles looked at each other. Juliet nodded for him to go right ahead.

***


Lade stood by the window with dried tears on her cheeks as she stared out at the neighborhood outside. She’d woken less than an hour earlier to a swept, empty apartment. She had taken a long, soothing shower and now felt better than when she first woke up. Sting’s doctor had recommended eating plenty of fruits and left a couple tubes of a funny smelling ointment which was essentially a mixture of arnica, chamomile, witch hazel and water which she’d mixed with some quantity of her body cream to be applied religiously as instructed.

She wore a loose long sleeve shirt that partly covered the bum shorts on her waist and held a lighted igbo in between her left index and middle finger looking out at the neighboring houses and their occupants home for the evening and going about their various activities, oblivious of her. However, she was absent minded. Various thoughts flitted around her head as she smoked and stared, not even bothering to dwell on any of them. She was on her feet at least even though she leaned more on one.

There was a knock. She turned to frown at the door taking an even longer drag.

“Nicky, you don wake?” It was Cindy’s voice.

Lade sighed and limped to the door to unbolt it for Cindy to enter from the corridor outside.

“Nicky you smoke too much these days.” Cindy had a shopping bag.

“I don’t!” Lade sounded defensive. “I just… I don’t know.” She sighed and offered Cindy the rest.
Cindy declined with a look which said yeah-right-give-me-an-excuse. Cindy left for the kitchen while Lade bolted the door after her. She just felt as awful as she looked and the weed helped her relieve the edginess. Or maintain her constant woozy state. If misery loved company, the drugs became her new best friends. It seemed she was trying so hard to lose touch with reality – her reality. Everything hurt. The daylight hurt her left eye. The harmattan season was slowly creeping in and the dry wind made her joints stiff and her cuts unbearable. Her body still hurt from Sting’s beating, but none of it hurt like the memory of her humiliation in front of Peter’s friends. She wished she could rewind time, and since that was impossible, she simply wished she could stay high and forget and was doing her very best to achieve that.

Cindy dumped the shopping bag in the sink. She was beginning to fear her friend would harm herself but said nothing. Nicky was melancholic more often than not, but she’d never seen her utterly depressed. She hadn’t left her apartment since Sting brought her unconscious body home on Monday. Today was Wednesday, but she doubted Nicky knew that or even cared enough. She was indoors either smoking igbo and drinking beer or snorting coke or worse shooting heroin, and was asleep the rest of the time. She heard Lade limp into the kitchen.

“What are you doing?” Lade asked.

Cindy forced a pleasant look to her face and turned to see her hovering. “Soup… Guess which?”

Lade shrugged and decided to sit on a stool. She puffed at her hemp, her eyes half closed in delirium.

“You seriously need to slow down, Nicky. I never seen you do it this much. You could hurt yourself.”

Lade sighed and blew out all the smoke, releasing whatever negative feeling she held inside alongside it. She was silent for a while as Cindy went about preparing her cooking ingredients. “I won’t see him anymore now, will I?” She suddenly asked.

Cindy was silent for a long time. This was the first Lade was bringing him up since she woke up. Peter Bankole. She’d googled the name on her java phone’s opera mini browser and… boy, was he a catch or what?” Tears welled her eyes for her friend but she held them back. Not that her friend wasn’t good enough for a guy of his class, but Sting was going to feel threatened by that and do stupid things.

“Why do you think so? Of course you still can!” She found herself wanting to believe herself. At her age, and upon everything that had happened to her, Cindy was still a romantic at heart.

Lade shook her head taking care not to hurt herself. “Not after all this! Not after the stories Sting told him about me.

Uh-Oh! Sting had what? Cindy realized that a lot must have happened that night which she wasn’t aware of, none of it any good.

“I’m making pepper soup with goat meat and I’ll need all the help I can get. When I’m done, we’ll eat, and then we’ll smoke and talk. Huh?”

Lade nodded. “Okay, what do you need?”

She sounded a bit better. “How about you begin with all these dirty utensils while I cut the meat up?”

Lade frowned. “Dirty utensils!” Even if hers was the untidiest bedroom on the planet, she still abhorred a dirty kitchen. But she was indisposed these days and that was the excuse enough for her negligence.

***


Banks had retreated to his studio where he spent the weekend to his mother’s utter dismay, who after much argument on the phone sent his sister over (just like he knew she would) with a flask of plantain porridge. Vanessa freaked out at his battle-busted face. She set off in a tirade of questions followed by endless nagging about his choices which, after enduring, Banks exacted a promise that she wouldn’t inform their mother as to the true state of his health. He was fine really, but for a busted lip and a few bruises. She went in search of the nearest pharmacy, bought a pair of scissors, cotton wool and cleaning chemicals for his wounds, an ice pack for his lumps and drugs for the pain, which he refused to take in the end. He had a small wardrobe at the studio, so changing his clothes wasn’t much of a problem.

Andy and Jennifer arrived Saturday afternoon and were surprised to find him studying. Jennifer was sitting for the very same exams and joined him for a bit. Andy found something to do on his laptop and made himself scarce. Neither mentioned Friday night. Bayo, Idara, Theresa and Tunde appeared much later with enough take-out bags from a fast-food for everyone and drinks. Only Chika was absent. They all had an excuse to stay until Banks shooed them all away around midnight.

Sunday was spent sleeping and revising - and missing Lade who had left the shorts and top she’d been arrested in. He remembered the semi-nude sketch of her he’d made and got it out to stare at it all afternoon, sniffing her top like a lade-ophile while he was at it. He started painting her that evening but fell asleep around one a.m out of exhaustion before he even got her face done.

He left the studio on Monday to dress properly for his interview with African Arts press scheduled for the early afternoon, and the first of his two final exams which was scheduled for evening. Driving home, he realized that after his weekend recluse, he was still no less shaken to the bone, or less baffled by his run in with Sting and close brush with death.

How had Lade gotten herself entangled by this thick web of Sting’s bullshit, he asked himself for the umpteenth time. The girl that used to be his picture of virtue was now… how has the mighty fallen, indeed? However, he was curious rather than disgusted by Sting’s stories. It was utter madness, he knew. He’d been shot at for the first time in his life. He now had that gun stashed away at a place he was sure no one will find. Only Andy knew where it was for he’d seen Banks hide it.

He wondered if she’d call him when she got her phone back today. He doubted it. Sting would surely seize her phone like the overbearing and domineering person he was. Still, he wished to see her, if only to ascertain that she was alright. Thoughts of the brief moment they’d shared together were like a continuous picture slide on his mind, one replacing the previous while he kept enough presence of mind with him to make it home safely.

Musa got the gate at record time unlike him, but he didn’t notice that. Neither did he acknowledge his greetings. His mother’s AVIATOR was in the garage next to his sister’s KIA RIO and his JEEP WRANGLER. The SIENNA was absent, but he was taking no chances. He’d rather not face his mother in the mood he was. Hence, he pulled up outside the porch but walked around the building to enter it via the kitchen.

Vanessa looked up from the vegetables she was chopping when he entered and was surprised to see him.

“Hey!” She greeted trying to look concerned.

“You didn’t go to work today?” Banks asked.

“It’s my day off. You decided to come home after all.”

“I was always going to come home. The Mercedes needed serious washing. I’d probably use the Jeep.”

“How are you feeling?”

“I…I’m fine, just hungry. Any left over from last night? Is mommy home?”

“You hesitated…”

“I’ve told you a million times that I’m not your patient Sister Vee! I need food! Sister Vee, food!” He snarled in his impatience

Vanessa fixed him a look. “And I’ve told you a million and one times that I’m not your housewife! There is jollof rice in that pot and salad in the fridge. Mom and Sarah left before I woke up?” She managed to say without snapping at him even though she was vexed at his tone.

Banks found the pot and helped himself to a heap of brown rice and two lumps of fried meat. He located the salad plate and cream in the fridge and retrieved them including a sealed bottle of table water. He dumped all the remaining salad on his plate of rice and poured some cream on top. Vanessa screwed her face in disgust. She went to wash her hand at the sink and continue her cooking. Banks put the plate in the microwave and set the timer. He found Vanessa watching him. He frowned at her.

“What?”

“I can’t believe all this is about that hooker girl?” Vanessa said.

The blood drained out of his face which mirrored the sudden surge of anger he felt inside. But he controlled himself, turned his back on Vanessa and sat down on a kitchen stool waiting for his food to warm. Vanessa added the last ingredients into her okro soup. She washed her hands again at the sink and went to take up the vacant stool beside Banks.

The microwave dinged and Banks rose to retrieve his sizzling dish and sat back down to eat. After a long period of silence punctuated by sounds of cutlery on dish, Vanessa resumed.

“I remember the one time I met her,” she said, “back when we lived at Ibadan. You had been ill and had missed a lot of classes in school.” Vanessa reminisced.

Banks frowned trying to recollect.

“And she brought copies of her class notes over to the house and helped you study for… a test or an exam, can’t remember which now.”

Banks eyes widened when he remembered and he smiled at her. “I thought you were kidding, you really remember her.”

Vanessa rolled her eyes at him. “You kept smiling like an idiot even after she’d left. I could tell you weren’t dating her then, else I’d have seen more of her.”

Banks had a dreamy look on his face. “I wish. Apparently, I was too popular with the girls in school to date only one. She preferred being just friends with me, according to her, because she didn’t want to compete for my attention.” Vanessa laughed. “It was a foolish excuse, I know now. I should have… I should have…” He shook his head, lost in his own thoughts.

“Too bad, the one you actually liked got away,” Vanessa said casually.

The dreamy look was gone replaced by a scowl. “Yeah,” he replied finally and sighed.

Vanessa went to check her cooking. She turned the soup with a spoon, tasted it from her palm. She looked satisfied. She turned off the gas burner and returned to her stool at the kitchen table. Banks hadn’t touched his plate in her absence.

“Now, all that… I’m sure you realize is water under the bridge. The Lade I understand her to be now is definitely not the same girl I met years ago.”

“I know, Sister Vee! But…”

“But nothing, Peter! If one finger touches oil, it’s only a matter of time before the rest of the hand is soiled. Disgrace to one of us means disgrace to all of us. Mom has sacrificed a lot to bring us this far and the future depends on you! Remember that the next time you decide to get a new scar on your face.” She patted his arm and left the kitchen. Banks scooped a spoonful of rice and chewed on it thoughtfully.

***


Lade moaned when she woke. Both temples hurt. Her head felt heavy. She opened her eyes to double images of a familiar room she recognized a few moments later as hers; one black eye anyway, the other was swollen shut. She heard the TV and turned in its general direction. The sudden entry of the TV light into Lade’s black eye made her whimper in pain. She shut them again. Her lower jaw was ached stiff. Her nose too – like she’d been with Mayweather the previous night at his favorite spot and come up under the weather. Far beneath the weather, if that was possible. She could still feel the rawness of her cheeks from the numerous blows Sting had given her the previous night. The rest of her body ached as she tried to prop herself up to her left side on her left elbow. She gasped at the pain and fell back on her pillow, her face weak and twisted in agony.

She heard the footsteps enter from the direction of her kitchen and opened her eyes again avoiding the TV consciously. Cindy noticed her trying to sit up and hurried to sit at the edge of the bed. She forced a smile to her face. “Hey! You’re awake! Doctor Lawal said you’d be in a matter of time. He just left.”

Lade made to speak but only managed a croak.

“I’ll get you water.” Cindy said and hurried back to the kitchen.

Her throat was dry and still hurt from being choked by Sting. There had to be marks. Her mind cast back to the previous night. She recoiled in horror at the memory. Jerry had given her a place and time to meet him – LOUNGE-UNO, a bar at APAPA - she’d in turn given the information to Sting.

She had waited up so late at Sting’s office at the workhouse until they’d returned around midnight, unsuccessful. Jerry didn’t come anywhere near that bar. He’d skipped their rendezvous. Why?

“This night too cold jor… I’ll be there baby,” She’d promised Jerry in her sultriest voice. With Sting, she’d quickly added in a warning whisper and quickly ended the call, not sure if Jerry had heard her. She was alone in Sting’s office when she took the call but wasn’t sure there weren’t eavesdroppers outside the door. She’d never betrayed Sting before. There was always a day one.

Spencer had his own explanations for Jerry’s absence at the tryst which, even though not true, still reflected negatively on her – her reckless rendezvous with Peter at ROSA’s BAR and the resulting showdown. Now, everyone knew she was Sting’s bitch. Including Peter and Friends. She’d never seen Sting as mad as last night.

Cindy re-entered with a glass of water. Lade raised herself up a bit and drank the water, one slow gulp after another. Cindy placed the cup on the floor beside the bed. Lade fell back to the bed and drifted back to sleep before Cindy returned.

CHAPTER SEVEN


Jerry stared at the phone at the unfamiliar number calling in. He was at one of Jimmy’s hideaway houses on Tin Can Island along the Porto Novo Creek. This beach house which sat on a little clearing at the edge of the Island once belonged to a Portuguese family in the late nineties. They’d put it up for sale when they left the country at the start of the millennium. Jimmy had been at the peak of his power then and Jerry had had a bright future. Now, a great man was dead, no thanks to Sting. He screwed his face as he thought of the man.

His revenge plot which had been sanctioned by Mandy had failed. Now, he was in hiding at the only place he was sure no one will find him. This was Jimmy’s private hideout. Not even Mandy knew where he was.

It was a one-storey building with a basement dug into the soft ground. Tin Can Island was under populated, but by the slummiest ghetto in the city. The roads were inaccessible in the rainy season and the poorest people lived there and were very loyal to Jimmy who had brought them electricity. No way would a stranger cross over from Apapa in search of Jimmy’s man. Jerry would hear of it first.

Sitting at the upper porch of the one-story old building, eating dinner – yam and egg sauce which he’d bought earlier at the community’s little market – and listening to the crickets and toads enjoying the moist evening breeze floating over the creek flowing by a few yards away, he had half a mind to ignore the call. His popular line had been thrown away, and only a handful of people knew this number. He had given this one to his suspicious parents, Mandy and a few other people who he’d felt he still had future dealings with when he planned to go AWOL. It’d been a week since he arrived here and he was doing fine screening his own calls.

But he was lonely. He looked at the number when the call ring ended. He’d dial it back after dinner he decided. It had to be someone who he had thought he would want for something.

“He didn’t answer.” Lade reported to Sting. She was sitting on one of the chairs in Sting’s office. They had waited till Monday evening after she got her phone back from the drug law agents. Sting was standing by the window smoking a Cuban and not looking too pleased. Kunle was sitting on another chair watching the both of them.

“All I’m hearing are excuses.” Sting growled. He turned to Kunle. “Call Spencer and see what he has found.” Kunle took his phone out of his pocket but Sting’s growl stopped him. “I meant you should beat it, boy! Get out of here!”

Kunle was up fast and out, giving them both one last confused glance.

Sting went to lock the door. He returned to Lade, an unreadable look on his face. “They expect me to punish you, you know?”

Lade nodded with a sigh. “I was afraid, Sting. I swear I called you first. Those other women in the cell, they…” She stopped. She didn’t like to remember the women. “I had to do something. They allowed me one call before they took my phone into evidence. But when your number didn’t go through, I had to think of an alternative to get out of there. I didn’t want to spend the weekend with those women.”

Sting grabbed her throat angrily and started strangling her. “And you happened to have fresh boy’s number?” Lade cried and choked while trying to plead. “You swore that night, that that would be the last time! I’ve got a busted nose and he has my gun! And you want me to believe he was just an alternative!”

“He was!” She cried. “I swear it!”

“Liar!” He released her. Lade grabbed her throat and spluttered worse than a badly oiled generator engine. “You think I’m blind?” He shouted. He grabbed her arm and shook her savagely till she looked woozy. He left her to stumble and fall to the carpeted floor and began pacing. “What haven’t I done for you, Nicky! I thought we had an arrangement! I hear them say I treat you special, and maybe I do! Any of the other girls do this, I’ll probably be using my belt on her back right now to remind her her place!” he ranted. He stopped pacing and glared at her. He walked to her and pulled her up to her feet. He pushed her to his desk.

She whimpered. “Sting, what are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” He leered as he pulled the hem of her dress up to her waist.

Lade recoiled at his touch. “Please, don’t!” she begged trying to wrestle the hem of her dress down. She tried to squirm away, but he trapped her between his long legs.

“You break your part of our arrangement, I plan to break mine.” He slapped her hand away and pulled her pants down to her knees panting like a bunny in heat at her creamy, bare thighs. “It’s been what- three years? I must say I’ve missed this.”

Lade covered her face in shame and tears streamed down her face. Sting stopped and frowned at her. “What is this? Crying like I’m about to rape… you used to want this! You used to enjoy a good Bleep.”

“Beat me! Use the belt… anything but this… please Sting!"

Sting took a few steps back and scowled at her in silence. Lade took her hands down hesitantly and looked at him through misty eyes. It was obvious – something about her had changed. She usually took whatever punishment he chose to dish. Anything but this? She was his bitch damnit! He would usually do whatever he liked and she would take it.

Fresh boy had happened.

“It’s fresh boy, right! You bleeped him, right?” Lade’s flinch told him all he needed to know. She looked down at the carpet. She’d always been a bad liar. His anger was back in full momentum. She’d help him deal with Jerry first, and then… he’d have to decide.

“Call that damn number again!” He shouted and stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind her.

Lade drew her white cotton panties back into place and smoothened her dress down laps as a sense of foreboding wormed its way up her mind. She didn’t like the look in his eyes before he left. Something really bad was going to happen… to her… to Peter. Peter. She wondered what he was doing.

The phone rang on the desk. Peter. She took it to look at it, knowing it couldn’t be him. It was Jerry. She sighed. It was time to get to ‘work’.

Sting wiped his bloody nose with the back of his free hand as he limped closer to Banks. His groin still hurt a bit. Spencer, Kunle and Ben got back to their feet and went to stand with Sting, their faces swollen from punches. Sting held his aim steady at Banks’ face.

“You know,” he began, “I tried to stop and wonder. What gave you the balls to fight me? Why? Why would you do it? When you knew I could do this…?” He fired above Banks’ head.
Lade and the rest of the girls screamed in fright. Tears began to stream down Jennifer’s cheeks. Chika held her. Banks slowly opened his eyes which he had closed at the shot, surprised that he wasn’t dead. He hadn’t been shot – yet. The hurt in his head was from the blows and not the bullet.

“Shoot him boss, and let’s be done with him!” Kunle spat with hate.

“Sting no! Please!” Lade shouted.

Sting laughed. He was suddenly enjoying this. “A few seconds ago, you thought you were dead, abi?”

“Sting!” Lade called. Sting turned to her. “Shut up, bitch! When I’m done with fresh lover boy here, then it’d be your turn.” He turned to Banks, his ugly face screwed up further with anger. “There is this guy, once upon a time… his name was Johnny.” He turned to Lade. “Nicky, you remember our friend Johnny? I think we should tell fresh boy here about Johnny.”

Lade looked alarmed and that got more chuckles from Sting. “Johnny… you really shouldn’t… they don’t… they don’t want… they don’t want to hear about Johnny… we could just leave them alone.”

“No, I think I should tell him some of your exploits. I think he should know buying you ajeboh dressing doesn’t change who you are.”

Lade cringed at what was coming.

“Johnny was a… well, a pharmacist, like me… though our kind of drugs aren’t NAFDAC approved and would land you in big trouble if a policeman caught you with it… you get the jerk. Well, Johnny had a much bigger turf than I and that was hurting my business… making it tough to expand my client base. I wanted to ‘talk’ to him about giving it all up to me, but he was a big man and it was hard to get him alone. Well, your friend Nicky was the perfect solution. You see, she’s mine and does anything I ask… I don’t think you want to know why, so don’t ask… anyway, I asked her to get me some alone time with our mutual friend Johnny.

“She did it brilliantly. She seduced this untouchable big man in a matter of weeks and fixed him an appointment with me, without his knowledge of course… he wouldn’t have showed up otherwise… after fucking him so well he slept off…”

Lade looked up and found Banks staring at her in shock. Tears of humiliation welled up her eyes. What had she been thinking? She’d been a different person for a very long while now. What made her think she would go back to being as she used to be - even if Sting allowed it, which he wouldn’t?

Sting was saying… “… She opened the door into the hotel room to let me in… well, he finally lent me his ears, but I wanted more than that… I told him I wanted everything – his suppliers, his clients, everything. The stupid guy said it would be over his dead body, as if his death would be a problem. He overestimated himself and fell for my sexy, brilliant… LovePeddler… his mistake… his loss… my gain…” He walked even closer to Banks, his voice an audible whisper. “I bought her… I trained her… I own her…” he pressed the gun to his chest. It was still warm from just being fired. “You want to take her from me with you fancy clothes and fancy parties at fancy houses? You have lawyers and friends to rescue her with?” He sneered.

“I’ll go with you Sting! Please! Just leave him alone!”

Sting whirled around to see Lade walking to him. Banks took advantage of the distraction. He knocked the gun out of his hand and it clattered to the floor. Sting quickly dived for the gun, but Banks was quicker. He kicked Sting on the face and retrieved the gun before Sting recovered. Too bad Ben, Kunle and Spencer had left their guns in the boot of the truck when they rushed out to the rescue. They were taken aback.

Lade was astonished; Banks’ friends too.

Banks pointed the gun with shaky hands at Sting who was slowly getting to his feet. Sting spat blood and chuckled.

“You know how to shoot? You ever shoot a man before, boy?”

“It’s easy,” Banks replied, “when the person I’m to shoot is you!” He steadied his hand and was going to do it, but saw the deer-caught-in-headlights look on Lade’s teary face. She shook her head in warning. “But not today,” he said relaxing. ”I want you and your guys to leave at once.”

“Are you sure?” he started to approach him. Banks pulled the trigger making sure to aim above his head. Sting backed away quick.

“My father was a policeman which means I grew up around guns. Now move! All of you!”

“You’re dead meat, fresh boy!” Sting said.

“Nobody is dying today, unless you chose to. I’ve got a lot of witnesses that would say its self-defense and they won’t even be lying.” They heard sound of sirens approaching in the far distance. Someone had finally called the police.

Sting spat some more blood on Banks’ t-shirt. “Dead meat,” he mouthed and turned to walk towards the truck. “Come on boys, let’s go.” Kunle, Spencer and Ben followed him. Lade started after them to Banks’s surprise.

“Where are you going? Lade wait!”

Lade turned to Banks. Her heart pounded at the choice she was making. It was the right thing to do, she assured herself. He couldn’t get involved in this mess. Just one nights out with him and… And this…

“I’m sorry!” She said. “I can’t… I can’t get you involved in this.”

Sting chuckled as he watched Lade approach. “She’s coming with us to plead for your life! I wonder what she would do for me this time!”

Banks watched as if in a daze. Lade’s body wracked in sobs as she let Kunle manhandle her into the truck. The rest of them entered after her and they drove away.

There was sudden pandemonium. Banks turned to see that everyone at the party had exited the house and were in a hurry to get to their cars and drive away. They’d all seen what had happened. Nobody wanted to be around in case someone had called the police. Tunde and the rest of the girls exited the compound and walked towards Banks, Andy and Bayo.
`
Andy turned to Bayo. “Take Idara home… Tunde… Theresa shouldn’t spend the night here…”

“Am I mad? She’s coming home with me!” Tunde replied.

“Good…meet Banks and I at CRASH after.” Andy returned. He looked at Jennifer and the expression on his face went soft. “Take your cousin, and stay home till you hear from me.”

Banks looked at the gun in his hand and returned the catch sighing. He stuffed the gun in his pocket turned to walk with a slight limp in the direction he’d parked his car.

Andy called out to him. “Banks!”

Banks turned to look at them with a frown. “What! Y’all go on ahead! I’m fine!” he continued his painful walk. His head was down, his hands went into his pocket and his eyes seemed far away

“He doesn’t look fine to me,” Idara observed. “And he plans to drive?”

The thought startled Jennifer into action and she went after him. She didn’t know Banks to be suicidal, but then, she hadn’t seen him get into a fight or hold a weapon not to talk of firing one. This was a night of firsts just because of a girl that wasn’t her.

Andy turned to the rest of them just as Theresa came out. She’d been playing the hostess, keeping everyone assured and allaying their fears although she’d been frightened herself. Tunde hugged her “Guys, we’ll need a very good explanation for tonight, but first let’s get out of here. Bayo, help me with Chika.” He shot off after Jennifer.

Bayo turned to Chika with a weak smile. “You’re coming with us I guess.”

Chika glared at them. “No freaking way! I came with Andy and Jenny, and I’m leaving with them.”

“Suit yourself. You always do.” Bayo replied shrugging. He took Idara’s hand and left for their car while Chika went after Andy.

“What happened?” Theresa asked Tunde.

“A lot! You’re spending the night at my place.” They heard sound of police sirens approaching. “We’ll have to hurry.”

Theresa put on a stubborn look . “I’m spending the night in my house. I haven’t even unpacked.”

“But the police…”

“I’m the one that called them. I’ll tell them I mistook the party bangers for gunshots because I didn’t order any. Or I can tell them, they’ve got the wrong location.”

Tunde hesitated.

“Come on babe! This is my place and I just got back! I miss my bed and our privacy! Your dad is going to make sure I sleep in the guest room and that wouldn’t do – not tonight. I… I need you.”

Tunde agreed reluctantly. “Let’s get everyone safely out of here.”

In the meantime, Banks had reached his car and was getting in when he heard the footsteps approaching. He stepped back out alertly and reached for the pistol in his pocket but stopped when he saw it was Jennifer. He scowled at her.

“I need to be alone, Jenny.”

She ignored him and stretched out her hand to him. “Give me your keys! I won’t let you drive. Not in this mood!”

They heard more hurried footsteps approaching and looked to see Andy approaching them while Chika was a stone’s throw behind. Andy saw Banks and Jennifer frowning behind him. The sirens were getting closer. Andy turned to find Chika behind him and stopped, irritated at her presence.

“Why are you still here? I asked you to leave with Bayo them.”

“I care too! I’m coming with you all!” Chika replied.

“No you’re not!” Jennifer returned.

“Neither of you are! Jennifer take your cousin home! I can’t stand the sight of her tonight!” Banks said firmly.

His friends were surprised by his vehemence. “We don’t have time for this for crying out loud!” Andy was impatient.

Jennifer grabbed Chika’s arm. “We’ll call them in the morning,” she said, “Let’s go.” She dragged Chika to her ELEMENT parked close by. Banks entered the driver’s seat and started the car. Andy entered the front passenger seat beside him, before they reversed out of the gates and zoomed off in the opposite direction from the sirens which had now gotten close.

***

Lade was almost at the gates when she heard footsteps following. She was beginning to feel strung out. Her nerves were shaken and still shaking. She turned and was surprised to see Jennifer coming after her.

“I just want to talk,” Jennifer said quickening her footsteps.

“Go away! You’re the last person I want to talk to!” She saw Idara walking after them behind Jennifer and continued out of the compound on to the street outside.

“Great!” She didn’t have any money on her, she remembered. She blinked away the tears and stopped to think. She could borrow a phone and call Cindy to pick her up somewhere.

Jennifer crossed the gate after Lade. “Just hear me out,” she said, “I’ll like to explain.” Lade turned to her as she arrived. “What could you possibly say you all haven’t already said with your eyes?” Lade barked glaring at Idara who arrived at that point. “…you thought you could have him for the evening and to your surprise, he brought me along? He told me a lot about you, you know?”

Idara frowned at Jennifer. “What is she talking about?” Lade and Jennifer ignored her.

“Did he also tell you about the conversation we had last night? I didn’t come here for him. None of us even thought he’d show up.”

“Yeah, right!”

Idara chipped in. “See Lade, there are no problems here. It’s just that it had been a while Banks brought a date along to our outings. We didn’t even have a hint he was seeing someone. The guys did and didn’t mention it to us, but we don’t have any problems with you. There is no reason we can’t all be friends.

Lade nodded. “It’s the most important thing in the world - getting along his friends. Else they may not approve of me.”

“That’s a wrong way to see it.” Idara replied, surprised at her perspective.

“Is it? Why don’t you ask your friend here if she’s in love with him!”

Idara shook her head. Who did she think she was, coming here to spin such trash on Jennifer? “What are you talking about? You don’t know a thing about Jennifer or any of us! How dare you slander my friend in front of me?” She asked looking at Jennifer who looked away in embarrassment. Realization slowly cleared her clouded mind like a drop of petrol melting a tough ball of drying shoe gum.

Lade sighed. “You’re right, I don’t know you. Judging a stranger is easy. Being wrong about them is even easier. I’m sorry.”

Jennifer shrugged and folded her arms. “There is nothing to apologize for? If he’s with you, then we are all cool with it. Just come back inside and let’s change this horrible first impression you have of us.”

Lade almost agreed, but just then, she caught the white HILUX driving by slowly out of the corner of her eyes. She turned and saw Sting leaning out of the front window. She stumbled, feeling sudden faintness. Idara held her to keep her from falling.

“Are you alright?” Idara asked and followed her gaze to the truck.

Lade nodded, but it was obvious she was not. Her knees shook. She bent forwards to clasp them and steady herself. There were others in the dark interior of the car with him. The dealer back at the party was the only connection to Sting’s sudden presence which made sense.

Sting leered at her as the truck pulled up in the middle of the street. He said something to the rest of the truck’s inmates and alighted alone. He smiled when Lade began to back away.

“You know him?” Jennifer asked.

Idara sensed trouble and ran back inside to alert Banks and the rest of the guys while Jennifer remained with Lade trying to make sense of the whole puzzling situation. Who were they to her?

“Well! Well! Well! Finally…Here you are with fine fine ajeboh girls…” There was a drip of sarcasm in his tone which wasn’t lost to Jennifer. “You surprise me a lot these days Nicky!”

Nicky? Jennifer frowned and looked at Banks’ dumbstruck date. “Who are you? And what do you want?” Jennifer asked.

Sting gave her a sidelong glance, still smiling. “Is she a prospect?” He asked Lade who turned to Jennifer with a warning look. “Stay out of this if you love your life!” Her voice dripped with fear.

Jennifer gave her an ARE-YOU-BEING-SERIOUS-RIGHT-NOW frown. What was this – a movie? She turned to look for Idara and noticed that she’d disappeared – to find help she hoped. She had a mind to do likewise but she couldn’t leave Banks’ friend on her own with this man.

“I heard of what happened at the house this morning and sent Tunji to bail you.”

Lade shook his head at him, pleading with him with her eyes not to talk about it. “They dropped the charges and let me go and… I… decided to take the rest of the day off.”

Oh! He must be her boss, Jennifer reasoned. But what was this talk about bails and charges. Did Banks’ friend have police troubles? One puzzle followed the other…

“That’s not exactly what Tunji said. The charges weren’t dropped till another lawyer arrived on your behalf. I didn’t know you had access to other lawyers.”

“Sting, please… can’t we talk about this when we get back? I can explain!”

“Answer me, you stupid bitch!” He roared. “Who bailed you?”

Lade almost folded up. Jennifer stepped back in surprise not used to such violence.

“I… You know it was my first time! I… I waited too long… and I was afraid! Your number wasn’t going through… I didn’t know when you’ll get back… I had to call someone.”

Sting scowled at Jennifer. “So you had girlfriends to call. Where the other one go?” He asked Jennifer.

Jennifer stepped further away from them. His eyes were cold and angry and for inexplicable reasons, she was afraid.

Sting smiled and returned his eyes to Lade. “I never knew you had such a nice looking girlfriend. When were you planning to introduce her? Does she…?”

Whatever was going on, Jennifer couldn’t stand to listen to them anymore. She turned to run back into the compound and collided with Banks who was exiting the compound in full sprint. She gasped in fright then noticed it was Banks. “Oh Thank God! Banks…!” She pointed at them. She saw Andy and the rest walking out of the house in the background while Banks took in the situation at a glance, but missed the Tundra. Lade was at the brink of tears and was shaking as a leaf, towered over by the ugly man from the bar who had threatened his life. Reckless bile replaced his fear for her and he walked towards them, everything else forgotten. His hate for the man who abuse his girl and reduces her worth in public with so much ease was so complete. The man had desecrated and was always acting like he owned his shrine. Who the hell did he think he was?

Sting was shocked to see Banks as realization that he was wrong dawned on him. It wasn’t the ajeboh girls that bailed Nicky. It was him. Of course it was him. She had his number and had called him. If she had his number, then worse, she had been seeing fresh boy at his back, despite express orders. He turned an incredulous gaze at Lade who shrank away but not before he threw her a dirty slap on the cheek.

The dam broke within Banks. The walk seemed too long even though he was just a few paces away. He charged at Sting with fists clenched. He saw the surprise on Sting’s face just before he knocked Sting off his feet with a heavy punch. He didn’t feel the pain in his knuckles. Lade shouted at him to stop, but he was past caring. Sting tried to stand but he kicked him in the stomach twice and again at the groin. Sting grunted in pain and grabbed at his crotch. The adrenaline was pumping. He heard Lade and Jennifer shouting the warning too late.

Kunle, Ben and Spencer pulled him away from their boss. Banks parried the first blow from Ben, but Spencer swiped him clean off his feet that he landed flat on his back. The first kick to his head had him dizzy. He raised his hands to protect his head and took the rest on his sides.

They weren’t too many though. Andy joined the fight without second thoughts. Tunde hesitated and Bayo pulled him back. “Watch the girls! Theresa! Don’t ruin this party for her” Tunde nodded in ready agreement. He’d never had to fight in his life. He got out his phone to dial his father but changed his mind. He hesitated as he thought of the consequences. Tunde pulled all the girls but Lade with him back into the compound and closed the gates after them. Andy had pulled Spencer and Ben off Banks. He broke Ben’s nose with his first punch which made him stagger off. He got a cut to the lip from Spencer and gave as good as he got with his second swing. Spencer was going to have a black eye in the morning, he was sure. Bayo found a stone on the floor and struck Kunle with it. Kunle doubled over and Bayo started to kick the shit out of him. Banks went to join Andy’s even match with Spencer while Bayo went to keep Ben busy…

Sting was still down, no longer disoriented although his eyes were still closed. Who knew fresh boy packed a mean punch? Either the boy didn’t know who was dealing with or he was a reckless fool who hadn’t learned to distinguish between a bluff and a threat. Sting had a lot on his plates, and the boy was becoming a bug. Maybe he should shoot the boy, teach Nicky a lesson about attachments and move on with his life.

Lade saw Sting sit up and get to his foot. She gasped when he pulled the pistol from behind him and screamed.

The gunshot stopped them all. Tunde and the girls were all peeking at the situation from behind the gate. Banks’ blood ran cold in an instant but still heaved with the excitement. He turned and found Sting holding a pistol to the air. He froze when he brought it down and pointed it at him. His friends moved away from him. The only other sound heard was of Lade sobbing.

Gotta get back to work (script in progress, deadline in the horizon) but I'll be here in the morning with the next chapter.

Have a happy new week ahead meanwhile, and thanks for the comments and ghost-reading.

PS: I'm an editor, so I know there is nothing like a perfect story. I hope to get more reviews as time goes. Goodnight!!/

***


Jennifer wished she was in her room doing something meaningful on her laptop. She was depressed and if not for the fact that the party was for Theresa she wouldn’t be here. Definitely. She watched Theresa and Tunde dance to Rihanna and Future’s L-O-V-E-E-E-E. The girl was tipsy and crazy dancing all over Tunde. Half a dozen others in the pool house at the extreme end of the yard were watching too. Tunde couldn’t match a quarter of her dance moves, but who cared. He was enjoying the dance even better than their onlookers. Theresa looked happy. Bayo and Idara were making out close by. They’d been sharing a cigarette, but now their unfinished wine glasses were on the table which contained three bottles of champagne and glasses belonging to others, Idara was on Bayo’s lap lip-locked and giving a sensitive Jennifer a show. Jennifer sipped her SMIRNOFF and wished she knew what it felt like.

Her eyes caught Andy watching her and tried a smile. He shook his head at her.

“You’re going to hurt yourself this way Jen,” Andy leaned in to say. He was sitting next to her at a table they’d colonized for themselves. Chika was dancing with someone else.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not. You’re brooding.” Andy replied.

“No, I’m not, I’m thinking of something,” she replied.

“There they are!” Jennifer heard a voice that could only belong to one person in the world and her heat missed a beat. She raised the bottle to her lips and suddenly the beat was all to hear. No one was talking anymore. She drained her glass and turned to see what the distraction was about.

The talk in the room resumed before she sighted him. And her. And the way their hand were linked as they walked towards them. The pain in her heart wasn’t a figment of her imagination. It was physical.

“She’s beautiful!” Andy whispered from beside her and quickly replaced the amazement on his face with a grin when he noticed the queer look Jennifer threw him.

Idara and Bayo had ended their make-out session. Theresa and Tunde had stopped dancing while Chika was returning to their table. “Banks my man! Finally!” Tunde shouted above the music and walked to meet him halfway. Theresa threw Jennifer a quick, puzzled glance and went after her boyfriend.

“Look who I found,” Christina quipped.

“Hi Tina!” Tunde greeted. “Hope you’re having fun at the party!”

“It’s awesome. Thanks for the invite!” They all knew she and her sister hadn’t been invited, but so were about half the people present.

Banks took Tunde’s hand in a warm handshake after which they pulled each other in for a half-hug so that both their right shoulders touched and their free hands clasped the other’s back. He was excited to see Theresa.

“Wow, you’re still as thin as a stick!” He joked as he hugged her and kissed her cheek.

“And you’re still a jerk!" She returned the hug. “Mmmm! I missed you!”

“Hey! I’m right here!” Tunde snarled and the three of them laughed.

“How was the tour? Was it worth missing tests week?”

“Definitely! Do you know the kind of contacts I made? It was really crazy! But I fitted right in, you know! Loads of fun! I’m glad to be back with you guys though!”

“Yeah, right…doesn’t sound like you missed us at all,” Banks replied. He saw her eyes look past him at Lade and turned to Lade. “This is our hostess and her boyfriend.” He didn’t introduce her but Tunde could hazard a guess. Lade shook hand with them.

Banks recognized most of the others who were at other tables in the pool house with them. They all attended the same school. They were all eating meat and drinking and gossiping. Some acknowledged him with either a nod or a wave and he returned their acknowledgements as Theresa led them to the table were the rest of their inner circle was waiting.

One by one, they all threw unconscious glances at Jennifer who had a plastic smile on her face. It was easy for Lade to figure out which of them was Jennifer. When she did, it was hard to understand why Bank didn’t fall for her. What his criteria were for choosing her over Jennifer escaped her? She’d expected Jennifer to be… what?

“This must be the VVIP section, Theresa! I can’t believe it’s the whole gang! What’s up guys?” Christina broke the silence. She had a smug smile on her face.

Chika rolled her eyes at her. “Hey Banks!” She greeted. “I thought you weren’t going to show as usual!”

“I’m here now! The party is complete!” Banks punched his clenched fist with the folded knuckles of everyone at the table. Tunde brought them two chairs, (a silent message to Christina to beat it) and set it beside Idara and Bayo. Tina and Chika could never be managed at the same table. Banks signaled Lade to sit down. Lade did, as observingly silent as a newcomer. Banks sat beside her while Tunde took one of the open champagne bottles on the table and filled their glasses.

Banks turned to Lade. “These are my closest friends in the whole world.” He mentioned their names one after the other. Idara complimented her dress. The rest grunted simple ‘hellos’ accompanied with waves, nods or smiles. It was surreal. Jennifer’s ‘hello’ was a little better than a croak. Idara and Chika were curious while the guys seemed suspicious and uncomfortable.

Chika darted an evil eye at Christina who stood behind Lade and Banks openly gloating at Jennifer. “So, who’s your new friend Banks?” Chika asked.

“Yeah, you’re yet to introduce her.” Theresa entered looking at Idara and Jennifer for support.

Andy’s discomfort increased. As if introductions were necessary… She looked like an escort to him even though she wasn’t strung out.

“My college crush! Her name is Lade. Guys, she’s the one I told you I ran into the other night.”

It was Lade’s turn to look as surprised as the rest of the girls. She turned a puzzled stare at him just like the other girls had turned to their boyfriends. They had talked about her? What had he told them about her? Was what he’d told them part of the reason for their discomfort?

Jennifer had no one but had turned to Andy, her faithful correspondent and had to remind herself to shut her gaping mouth. She was shocked. Now she understood why Banks had seemed reluctant to date her even after promising to try. His college crush was back in his life, and boy, was she hot or what?

Nobody had said a word for a full minute. By now, Lade was alarmed. Her cool was gone and she was fidgeting. Her left fingers shook in a slight tremor and she clenched them on her laps below the table. “What’s going on Peter?” She had to ask. “Why are they all silent and staring?”

“I don’t know babe…” Banks turned to his friends puzzled beyond belief. This was fast turning into a disaster. “Come on, guys? Is this a new hazing idea or what?”

Chika spoke in an angry tone she thought was low enough. “He mentioned a girl and you didn’t think it wise to let me know?” She asked her boyfriend.

“Will you shut up Chika? Don’t you see we are embarrassing her?” Andy retorted. They turned to see that the rest of the pool house was quiet as well and staring at their table.

Lade had had enough. She pushed her seat back and got to her feet. Banks grabbed her hand but she slapped him off. “Don’t even think it.” She warned and walked away from the table and out of the pool house with all eyes on her.

Banks turned to look at his friends, his own anger now uncoiling. He reached for his wine funnel but held the narrow neck too hard it broke in his hands and spilled champagne on the table and his clothes. All the girls at their table gasped.

Jennifer shot up from her chair at first to take care of his visibly bleeding fingers, then changed her mind. “I’ll go find her,” she said and headed towards the exit.

“I’ll come with you.” Idara got off her chair and went after Jennifer who was ahead with longer strides

“Oh Gosh you’re bleeding.” Theresa shouted on seeing the blood on Banks' hand.

“I’ll be fine.” Banks grumbled. He took Lade’s glass and drained the contents. He reached for the bottle of champagne and some blood dropped on the table.

“The first aid kit!” Tunde ordered. Theresa hurried out to get the first aid kit.

Banks licked the small, bleeding cut on his thumb and glared at Chika. The rest of the guys gave her disapproving glances too.

“Great! Of course, the fault is entirely mine! As if all your girls weren’t dying to ask the same questions!” Chika shouted in defiance. She shrank when Andy half rose from his chair in her direction. “I swear, one more word from you tonight, babe, I’ll…” He stopped himself. He sat back down and steeped his fingers in an effort to control his anger. Tunde and Bayo were as quiet as dead mice.

Christina smiled at this and received a scowl from Chika. “And you! What are you smiling at?” She asked.

The rest of them turned to look at Christina. “My sister would be looking for me by now. I’ll see you later Banks.” She tapped his shoulder and got a curt nod from him. She left the pool house like she was escaping, her head full of gossip.

***


The smell of grilled meat was so strong but couldn't mask the scent of Indian Hemp. Lade had a sudden crave for a smoke and steeled herself to be responsible. She was surprised she’d gone all day without a fix. She hadn’t even thought about it until now. Now looking around, she was sure someone in the dark, partying crowd had something. She pushed it to the back of her mind with effort.

Security lights were on everywhere, bathing the yard with illumination even though there were blind spots. The yard was filled with even more people. Banks and Lade were found before they made it to the pool.

“Look who finally decided to show up!” Christina shouted from behind them. She was one of Banks faculty members at school.

They turned to see Christina looking ravishing in her bikini cups and pair of shorts over her bikini pants. She had a plate of grilled meat

“Tina hi!” he hugged her with a huge grin on her face. “Wow you look marvelous!”

“Yeah? I could say the same of you. There’s this stupid rumor you’re strictly keeping to your studio these days, but here you are.”

“I wasn’t going to miss Theresa’s homecoming for the world.” Banks replied. He turned to Lade. “Babe, this is Christina, twin sister to my first girlfriend in art school.”

If Christina was surprised he’d called the pretty girl beside him ‘babe’ she didn’t show it. “He asked me out first, before mistaking her for me, then settled for her.” She was shaking hands with Lade who was amused at the story.

“Ouch! That’s an old grudge, Tina!”

“Well, she dumped you. So, I already called it even. Although it doesn’t hurt to remind myself what an A-hole you are with the ladies.” Her grin and pleasant tone never diminished. “I’m kidding.”

“I know, but guilty as charged. This is Lade, a very old friend of mine who I ran into recently. We’re still in the haze of reunion.”

Christina chuckled. “I can imagine. I love your dress, Lade. Lovely earrings too! My ears envy yours!”

“I’m pleased to meet you Christina! Any friend of Peter is a friend of mine.”

She called him by his real name and with affection, Christina noticed. Did they just have sex before coming? Did Chika and company know about her? There was only one way to find out. She closed in to whisper in his ears. “She’s gorgeous… but heads up, Jennifer is here too. Alone.” She said with a knowing smile.

Lade saw Banks shrug at her and wondered what his ex’s twin sister just whispered into his ear.

A quiet public declaration… Christina understood what the shrug meant. Showing up with this one without any outward concern towards Jennifer’s presence or perception could only mean that one thing. She clapped her hands giddily. She’d envied Jennifer and was neither friendly with her or Chika. The only reason she was here was because it was Theresa’s party and all the ‘who-is-who’ were here too. Yes, she would love to see Miss Aloof, Rich and Talented, and her loud-mouthed cousin humbled a bit.

“I saw Andy and the rest by the pool shed. Come, I’ll lead you to them.” She had to be there for the introduction.

Banks and Tina talked about the progress they were making in their school final project as they made their way through the crowd of partiers who were almost all in their twenties, just like inside. More of the ladies had bikinis on and most of the guys were bare-chested. They were either drinking, smoking, eating grilled meat or any possible combination. Theresa’s pool was Olympic-sized and there were a lot of swimmers splashing around. A few had floats while the rest were experts. Nevertheless there were a couple life guards around.

There were a lot of semi-nude, nubile bodies with titties bouncing as they danced with hard-bodied men to the music playing in the yard. Banks perceived the Indian Hemp and looked at Lade. She seemed to be looking around to recognize someone. He squeezed her hand. She gave him a nervous smile and for the first time, he wondered if it had been a great idea to bring her here. She’d just gotten out of drug law custody that morning.

These sorts of parties always involved rich, care-free girls and guys looking to have fun which always involved excess alcohol, cigarettes, and drugs if someone had a dealer’s control number. Someone almost always did.

Taiwo was one of Sting’s men who stayed at the Akoka area. Taiwo had been contacted by one of Theresa’s cousins who schooled at UNILAG – where he operated from. He’d been to numerous house parties and was known by some of the invitees present who he’d sold to at one time, one party or another.

He sat among eight clients at the darkest corner in the yard whose idea of fun in that moment included smoking skunk or snorting coke. He didn’t bring any heroin. He didn’t want to risk a client overdosing and setting the attention of whatever authorities that would be brought in on his trail. His sharp eyes roved through the crowd in search of the familiar face of a customer he’d served elsewhere. The party was almost coming to close and he still had some skunk and pills he’d have loved to dispense before he called it a night.

That was when he saw her walking past towards the pool house – which was off limits for most of the partiers because it had been set aside for the hostess’s inner circle. Nicky. He was sure it was her. She was tall and had dreads like Asa, the Yoruba international singer. He had almost had her once.

Wait! Hadn’t Kunle called him an hour ago to say she was missing and Sting wanted everyone to be on the lookout for her? Here she was on his turf, walking with two strangers, acting like she was one with the crowd. Well, wasn’t that what escorts do – walk with strangers? Any other night, yes… tonight, the information made him no better. Whatever she was up to, the boss was pissed at her. Sting or any of his henchmen were to be contacted immediately she was spotted.

Whatever the hell was going on! He didn’t have a direct line to Sting else he’d have by-passed Kunle. He had to call Kunle. Kunle would get the credits, but that was how the job worked.

Taiwo turned to one of his customers – the one nearest to him – and tapped his shoulder. The guy was holding a tube and blowing marijuana smoke through his nose. The customer gave him a morose look. Taiwo pointed at Banks through the crowd. “You sabi that guy wey de waka with those two babes?”

The guy shook his head slowly as if afraid he’ll lose his bearing and returned to his bong.

Taiwo chuckled. They guy was half-stoned, plus the lights in the place were very low. He wasn’t to be blamed. Taiwo took out his phone and placed a call to Kunle.