Cracked Sources (B01 E11)

With a shaky feel he dipped his hand into
his pocket to reveal keys hitting each other in their bunch to make a non-uniformed
sound. He approached his door staggering – his attempts to hold himself steady
proved weaker with each step he took.

Anna surfaced from the corner where she
had been waiting for him: she had watched him keenly for a while without much
substantial reason – Either to know if truly he was drunk, or to gauge how much
he was drunk. We’d never know for sure.

“You’re
a darling Anna,” He said to her, she had placed him comfortably on his
bed. She reasoned if he truly was as drunk as he appeared to be because of how
fluent he sounded.

“You’re
capitalizing too much on the luck that you’re invisible,” She
said. She stood from where she crouched, to take her leave. He held her hand to
stop her half way, they had swung pass his,
“What are you doing Andrew?” She asked him.

 ***

“I
really hoped I was wrong, and that this was one of those rare cases where I
make a mistake because of my issues at home, but it wasn’t Mr. Sanni,”

“How
much exactly are we talking about?” He asked Patrick
earnestly.

Patrick shook his head as though
pronouncing the amount of money, would case his jaw to break under its own
weight.

“Nine
hundred and thirty-five million, eight hundred and seventy thousand naira.
That’s close to a billion naira, stolen under his watch.”
He finally answered the question.

“What
could he need such amount of money for?”

“I
have no idea” Patrick shook his head.

“Mr.
Patrick Sir, you’re needed immediately at the audit unit.” A
tall lanky young man interrupted them – Mr. Sanni thought the young man to be
one of the best dressed youth he’d seen in a long while. Immediately they left
the conference room, Patricia walked in, and went for the corner of the
conference table where both men had sat. She sat on Mr. Sanni’s exact position,
and stared at the camera facing her direction. She gave it a thumb on sign. The
person at the receiving end of the camera feed gave his as well.

***

It was morning. Andrew was now awake. He
touched the side of his bed, he wanted the feel of warmth but he got none. He
sat upright and stared at the blank space, “An
intriguing wet dream I suppose” He consoled himself, he wondered how
much drinks he had last light, everything seemed hazy.

He let out a loud yawn that followed with
a body stretch. His eye caught a familiar sight – The black pantie on his music
amplifier.

“Baby
are you awake?” Anna called from down the stairs.

“To
hell you Beatrice” he muttered and rushed to get it. As he
held it in his hand, instinct set in and he impulsively began to inhale the
pleasuring odour that emanated from it – It was his fetish.

“Baby?”

“Yes
I am,” He pulled off his nose mask to hide. “Perhaps it wasn’t a dream after
all,” He thought.

Anna pulled up to him immediately she
entered the room, he drew her even closer to his side, he ignored the tray of
tea and buttered bread she brought with her.

“Why
have you so silent and acting shady?” She teased him.

“Planning
how best to saying sorry for my bad behaviour last night”

He trickled his fingers up her thigh,
into her womanliness. With each moan she gave out, he mentally sang her praises
for the ease with which he pumped-in finger after finger through his loose
shirt she had on. After a while, he swiftly made changes to their position,
with her face down, he pumped in continuously and hard from behind, as she let
out decibel after decibel of high note moans.

He turned her over – she was now on top.

As she was riding the mood to swift
bliss, her eyes caught sight of a strange looking clothing in between the
ruffled bed cover and blanket. She pulled it and out came a bra. She
immediately stopped grinding.

“Did
you have sex with Beatrice when I left you both two nights ago?”

Andrew was silent. She could sense his
recognition for the bra she held in her hand.

“A
little quarrel and you run into the arms of the next available female. Okwaya?”
she asked in her dialect, getting off him, and adjusting herself.

Andrew is still silent, his gaze fixated
on the bra calling out to him to smell it.

His phone suddenly started beeping. He
picked it up to read, mainly to cut the awkward questions he was getting from
Anna. He saw an important message from the man he met last night, and started
to dial the number back despite Anna’s warning that he desists from making a
call when she saw him pull the phone to his ear. In a mixture of anger,
sadness, and the realization that Andrew didn’t hold as much regard for her as
she thought, Anna dressed up, and left while he still was on the call.

***

‘Ding dong! Ding dong!’ the doorbell
rang. Without any reply, manual knocking was applied

“Anna,
it’s me. Open up”

“I’m
coming.” Anna finally responded, she was trying hard to
wipe away her tears as she approached the door.

“What
are you doing here Mark?” she asked after
her door swung open.