She couldn’t believe how easy it was to trap the guy into taking her home. As soon they entered his car, his mouth descended ruthlessly on hers. After a while she stopped the kiss and whispered seductively.
“What’s the rush Tiger? I like it slow and erotic, can we go somewhere private?”
He looked at her through narrowed eyes as he said.
“Okay so we could go to my hotel. Yeah, I mean I just figured we could just get down to business here you know.”
He laughed as he pinched her playfully on her buttocks, she cringed and gritted her teeth. Oh what she will do to him.
She plastered a forced smile on her face as she said.
“Oh no I like to be treated well, you know to wake up in a nice bed…”
“Okay, okay, let’s go to my hotel and yes it’s a nice bed.”
He started the car and zoomed off.
She found the silence awkward and tried to make conversation.
“So tell me your name, hot shot”
He laughed again.
“My name? You can call me Jones.”
“Jones… you don’t look like a Jones to me, more like a Matthew.”
He looked her straight in the eye as he said.
“Well I’m not Matthew, I’m Jones to you.”
His breath still reeked of brandy and his touch was electrifying, but she stilled herself against such mundane feelings.
Within minutes he drove into a hotel with its signpost glittering like a beacon, again he grabbed her hand and led her upstairs to his room.
She was impressed with his taste and took some seconds to look around. He was more interested in getting her out of her clothes and into his bed, as they tumbled around in the sheets, her hand slid down into the handbag she had brought closer to the bed.
She was able to pull out a knife and in a twinkling of an eye, she plunged it into his side. All the lust drained from his eyes and was replaced with shock. He groaned and held onto his side as more stabs came, one after another…
At the club, it was all sexiness, debauchery and Naija dancehall music, Nigerian girls sure know how to dress.
We found a table and settled down to order some drinks.
Funmi rushed over to the next table were some guys were lounging idly; it seemed they were her friends because she hugged them and dragged them over to our table. They came over with their drinks and women and Funmi made the introductions.
“Guys meet Cassandra, Madam’s daughter from USA.”
They were really nice and warm, one of the guys she introduced as Aliyu took the seat beside me. He was the only one without a girl and was acting oddly familiar. His voice was also seductive. Did all Nigerian guys have seductive voices? Like they just want to take you to bed.
He whispered in my ear
“My love how are you finding Naija? I hope say Funmi dey take care of you? Do you want to bite something? They have some small chops.”
Then he grabbed my hand and pulled me to my feet.
“Babe dance with me?”
Everyone at the table laughed and I almost died with embarrassment, why the hell was this guy acting as I was here to get a man? A complete stranger, he had said he was a medical doctor, why was he acting like a sexist pimp? I decided to let it pass, to try and be nice at least to avoid spoiling Funmi’s night.
I followed him to the dance floor and in no time, we were gyrating to ‘Dumebi by Rema’ that saturated the atmosphere.
Aliyu dropped his hands to my waist and then in an unbelievable moment squeezed and pressed me to himself. I slapped him twice and backed away, he was shocked for a second before he angrily turned me around to face him, Funmi came over and slapped him too. That was when we saw the punch that hit Aliyu from the back; it sent him flying across the room.
It was Muna, his angry voice boomed over the music.
“Guy! If you ever lay your filthy hand on my wife again, I will castrate you. Na my wife be this, you hear me?”
Bouncers were everywhere and ordered us to leave; Muna linked his hand with mine and gently led me outside to his car, gently rubbing my back.
Inside the car, he took both of my hands and looked into my eyes as he said.
“Babe, I’ve ended whatever it was that was between me and Mirabel or any other girl… Yeah there were lots of them. I had to stalk you on social media, saved your pictures and have been using them as my Display photos.
even though you stayed angry with me.”
I shifted away.
“No please, darling listen. I’m sorry, I really did that, It sent a strong message and all the girls I was messing with… He laughed.
“Majority of them deleted me from their contacts, and blocked me but nothing else matters because I want to be with you…”
I pressed my lips to his and kissed him, I had suppressed this hunger for days, denied myself of what I wanted most.
Just then Mirabel walked up to the car, she was looking quite young and elegant in jeans and a chiffon top, she glared at me and turned toward Muna.
“Muna, can I see you for a moment in my car?”
Muna held me protectively and made to close the car door but Mirabel held it.
“This is ridiculous Mirabel, we talked about this. I told you I need to move on with my life, I nor get time for all these drama now.”
He forced the door shut but the window was still rolled down, and that was when it happened.
A guy in a hooded sweatshirt walked by, his two hands were buried deep in his pocket; he stopped briefly like he wanted to intervene between Muna and Mirabel. Suddenly his hand flew from his pocket like lightening, a black pistol pointed and fired at Muna ‘point blank’; then he took to his heels.
Muna swerved and slumped in my arms.
I screamed as my heart exploded into a million fragments, I pressed my hand to the rosette of blood gushing from the gaping wound on Muna neck.
When I looked up, Mirabel was gone, so were the Nomadic looking Northerners who every one called ‘Aboki’ who sold roasted meat (suya) by the roadside.
Later someone said I never stopped screaming, begging Muna not to die that I loved him. All I remember was trying to dial my Mum’s number with my iPhone, that was sticky and slippery with Muna’s blood. Blood was everywhere, on my face, hands, cloths, the metallic taste of blood was in my mouth.
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