DOUBLE WAHALA

                                               CHAPTER 9.

Henry was startled. He woke up and the pain he felt on his shoulder was overwhelming. He wanted to scream. To make matters worse, the nurse asked how he felt. If she was a male nurse, he would have wrung her neck or given her a punch to die for but he was sure the hospital would give him an analgesic that would lead to his death or worse still, paralyze him for the rest of his crazy life. 

He didn’t respond but gave her a cold stare. She kept questioning and smiling at him. She could just shoot him instead of the smile. A smile didn’t make the world go round or get the right things in life. It seemed she got the message and decided to take a walk but not before she told him to buzz her if he needed anything. 

Her name was Florence. He didn’t give 2f’s, she could go to hell for all he cared.

He was grateful to have survived the heinous attack so he decided to cast his mind back to the event of that day in case there was something he missed. He had been too deep in thought and it was already too late before he could sense something was wrong on the fateful day. 

He remembered that immediately he turned around to find out who it was, it was already late; the assailant had already fired the shot. Well, it wasn’t all too late as the bullet hit his shoulder. Thankfully, it wasn’t his heart or another delicate part of his body.

He didn’t really see the man coz he was in a car; a black jeep was all he knew. He was wearing dark shades; he had a bald head, chocolate skin and there was no hair on his face although he didn’t know if there was hair on his eyebrow. 

He wasn’t plump but he wasn’t skinny as well. Those were the few things he noticed about the assassin who was dressed in black.  

 All this was the fault of that god-forsaken- son-of-a-bitch, Malaki! He grinned inwardly. He hadn’t expected Malaki to go this far but he had woken up the sleeping beast so he had to enjoy the rest of the game. 

Well, he was sure one person would go down for this, most definitely not him. What about Malaki? The nincompoop was sure going down!

The Police came in to ask questions, which of course were too many and unnecessary. His name? What he did for a living? Where he was from?  Who he suspected? Where he lived? Who was he fighting or quarreling with? Blah, blah, blah. 

He never trusted the police because one could never be too sure about what they were up to. Who knew if Malaki had paid them? He gave them lies and excuses about how he couldn’t remember anything about that day, how his head has been aching since he came out of coma and so on. 

Sensing his displeasure, Florence told the Police to excuse her. She needed to attend to him; feed him, ensure he took his drugs and injections. They left and promised to be back later.

Florence simply smiled. It seemed it was her usual practice; to smile. He hoped it was nothing more than a smile. She said she noticed he was uncomfortable with the police; he didn’t listen to her when she spoke of the buzz so he couldn’t have remembered. 

He tried to apologize and appease her. He thanked her for being nice even when she knew he wasn’t kind or nice towards her. Why did the whole world seem like it was on his shoulders? It was the drugs and injections she gave him. Damn! He hated these freaking medics. He should have strangled Florence when he had the chance to do so.

Florence simply smiled at him. She noticed he was always wearing a mean look but what he didn’t know was it made him look bad; bad boys were endearing, and quite frankly, he looked good and sexy to her. 

She loved the scars on his skin and how he always frowned. He always tried to have the African man look which was to be strong, confront and stand firm in the face of trouble, never get emotional or break down in tears, especially in public; have your head and chin up no matter the circumstance; never show weakness and all those other African man qualities. 

Anyway, she wasn’t interested in all that. She saw in him a scared little boy who would do anything to protect himself but failed to realize that his Van Danme act was very silly and rather unnecessary.  

She saw in him a loving person, who would love a woman to eternity and back. A man who could fight for his woman no matter the cost. A man who would be a tiger to tear his woman’s enemies to pieces and be a cat to keep her warm and lick off all the dirt on her.   

She sure was going to make sure he loved her. She’d been studying him for three weeks and fallen in love with him.

Henry decided to hatch some new schemes. He knew Florence loved him and he determined to put it to good use. Within five days of coming out of coma, he warmed up to her and she practically ran to him when she was free. 

He got to know that she was the last born of five children, she loved pasta, blue was her favorite color; she liked the beach and all those tiny details that made sense to women. He told her he was an only child, an orphan who just liked her, he also loved the beach and it made him buy a beach house. She couldn’t stop grinning.

After establishing a measure of relationship, He brought her into his plan: he needed to leave the hospital although the Police was on his tail. 

They could go to his beach house! Bam! She fell for it. He gave her his ATM to settle his bills in the hospital. On the fourth day, she dressed him as a cleaner. He managed to walk up straight till they got out of the hospital premises. As they got out on the street, he had to writhe and stay that way for a few minutes.

A bus parked in front of them.

Two men got down from a bus, hit him on his side and shoulder.

They put a phone in his pocket and snatched Florence from him.

They kidnapped her.

He couldn’t stand up.