Cracked Sources – B02E08

Dimeji stood confused for a while; he looked around but couldn’t see
anything substantial to make him remain a second longer on this floor –
Everyone knew the 18th floor was the uncompleted floor used for sexual
escapades during working hours – Imagine his confusion when Imelda repeatedly
assured him it was the same floor she was talking about when she said she had a
surprise for him. He had finally exhausted his patience; the edges of his
Italian suit pants were already hitched by the dusts of the earth. He turned to
go, but stopped when he heard his name.

“Uncle
Dimeji,”
Imelda called again softer.

Moments like this she hated why her voice sounded too sweet and
tender, because they usually failed to pass across her full emotion. When he
finally stopped she jerked with joy: She couldn’t wait to show him the office
space Andrew just gave her this morning.

Dimeji didn’t seem to appreciate the office space even after he learnt
major repairs had been commissioned for the floor. Imelda tried to calm his worry
– “Things are still going as planned,” she
insisted. Andrew gave her the floor to ensure they had unrestricted privacy, if
she played her cards right she could be in charge of everyone who found his or
herself transferred to this floor as soon as the renovations were completed.

Dimeji still had his doubts, but his words were corrupted and
constantly clouded by her hands; they played with his tie all the while she
explained. They progressed to his upper collar button now, and he quickly
surrendered to the woman power – Even though what she received from Andrew
wasn’t what they had initially discussed, he had to agree with her that it was
a step in the positive direction, he could only pray she doesn’t mess it up. He
gently removed her hands from his white starched barrister shirt and set her
back by two steps, he pulled the tie off himself: She had fiddled with them for
too long, and had started a reaction in his body he couldn’t suppress any
longer.

***

The increasing sounds of a heeled-shoe told him it was a woman headed
his way, and as he felt, he didn’t mind the extra company; three hours alone
had added nothing to his life other than a higher blood pressure brought about
by burdened thoughts of why Akin would drop him at this crucial moment when he
was already very close to the goal.

He understood blood was blood, but couldn’t understand why he had to
be sacrificed by Akin in this manner – His license as a practicing lawyer was
heavily threatened – Akin sold him over and he couldn’t take it.

“Malik!”

He quietly looked up at the sound of Ramon’s beautiful voice calling
his name. He didn’t expect to see her, but could still flash her a smile,
without making noise over the fact that she had been trying to make a fool of
him for all the weeks they’d been working in the same building. He heard the rumors
about Andrew’s betrayal and had been expecting her to switch over to Akin’s
side ever since the news went viral; imagine his surprise when he found out
what brought her here.

Ramon was here for business, she wanted to form an alliance with the
one person she knew now hated everyone at the firm as much as she did now. If
there was one thing she could count on Malik for, it was his resolve to
perfectly get back at whoever tried to take him and his loved ones down, and if
his many attempts to woe her back since she got back into the country didn’t
prove that he still loved her, then nothing would. Anyone who would want to toy
with their feelings was living in a dreamland if he or she thought they’d get
away with it – She could count on Malik to get her revenge on all her enemies.
They were still not getting back together, and not even Malik’s announcement of
his undying love for her at this moment would change that, at least for now.

***

Patricia staggered momentarily but soon found her comport. She
understood Andrew was still angry at her for not protecting Anna from getting
knocked, and worse, for not telling him the moment she found out. She pushed
him back with great force, “I’m sorry,” she
forcefully pleaded. How was she supposed to stop a grown woman from having sex
inside a government prison? No matter the amount Andrew offered her for her
services, that was far above anyone’s pay grade. She recalled his threat, she
wondered what he’d do to her now.

Andrew was really fuming with anger. Ever since he found out about
Anna’s condition he’d been thinking of what to do with Patricia: She had failed
him in her foremost responsibility of protecting Anna from any form of harm,
including self-inflicted ones like her present condition. He believed Anna
didn’t know what she was doing, and would in a little while regret keeping this
pregnancy.

“I’m sorry,” Patricia pleaded
again, her voice had softened more, perhaps the sudden realization of the kind
of damage done caused her tone to lighten. She agreed to give Andrew the time
he requested to process his pain and know what next to do with their
relationship.

Agnes ran into the office evidently shedding tears. Andrew initially
wanted to transfer his aggression on her, but held back the moment he noticed
her tears; his approach changed like the wind flow. “Talk to me.” he commanded. Patricia brought her water to
calm her husky throat that suffered from grave weeping. They both wondered what
made her cry this way. Each time she tried to talk, more tears submerged her
words, she couldn’t help herself, her heart was very heavy.

“Mr. Sanni
is dead,”
she finally managed to let them in on the reason for her heavy tears.

***

“Mark!” The Chief Warden
pronounced his name with guilty pleasure. The name-sound felt raunchy, as
though it was the first time he’d be experimenting with the sound. He fixated
his gaze on Mark who walked away from the gathering of the other inmates with
humility, head down. It gave him great joy to observe humility in his
prisoners, it showed him Mark had learnt fast the rules of the prison walls: He
had theoretically and practically made Mark his subject, hence, there was no
way he wouldn’t have learnt to be humble.

“Those
things you hear about prisons are true, men rape their fellow men here.” The warden once
said to him when he first got here. Those words would forever hunt Mark even
outside these walls. He was free to go, but he knew he’d never be free of the
memories his father had made him accrue in there. He thought of his dad, how
he’d face the man who refused to visit his own son sent to prison on his
behalf. He thought about Anna, the surprised look she would have on her face
when she realized he would be home with her to have their child and live their
lives together forever. He thought about how the smallest of things in life
mattered. His heart still brewed fresh hatred for the Chief Warden for his
defiling acts against him almost every day, even on his birthday, because he
was the son of the famous Barrister Akin, it seemed to give him joy while he
was doing it that he had his way with the son of the man whose firm had sent a
quarter of the inmates to the prison; playing along was the way he had survived
all these months, and not the stipends he offered them as Anna thought. He
believed he’d live pass the experience, all he needed was to leave here as soon
as possible; he would prove the Chief warden wrong in his believe that no one
could escape the claws of homosexuality once hitched.