6—Trapped in Florine Towers.
The wind on her face, the tumble of her hair as she ran, the pounding of her feet on the pavement, every single action felt so decadent. Like eating Mom's stash of premium chocolate.
She had been cooped up for two long weeks in Folarin's apartment complex, which he cheesily called Florine Towers. She knew where that name came from, and it had comforted her initially. That he remembered her, that she wasn't just a paid friend. But after a while, she could feel the four walls starting to press in on her. She felt claustrophobic in the big luxury apartment. She felt trapped, like a prisoner.
Folarin tried his best and went out of his way to make sure she didn't feel like he had locked her up in Rapunzel's tower and thrown away the key. But she had. Her dad was the wicked witch who kidnapped her, and Folarin was the dragon contracted to keep her in line.
She knew the fairytale nonsense wasn't reality, they hadn't kidnapped her for her magical healing powers or whatever reason Rapunzel's crazy witch had kept her hidden. But she felt that way. She knew the threat was real, knew that they were doing everything to protect her and keep her safe. But she felt smothered, trapped, imprisoned by their abject need to protect her from the ills of the world.
She was fine. She didn't need protecting, plus the estate was gated, safe. The intruder couldn't get in unless he lived here. Or knew someone who did, her subconscious reminded her. Plus, Folarin thinks the person is monied; her subconscious shouted at her. This is reckless. Think of your baby.
She sighed. Her subby was right, this was stupid. She turned around and raced back the way she came. She was acting like a child, the danger was real, and she had seen it with her own eyes. She didn't need to experience it before she accepted how real it was.
Folarin had been scared, and nothing scared him. Well, not a lot anyway, the guy was like a fortress. She tripped on her feet and stayed down to catch her breath and retie her shoelaces that had somehow come loose. While she rested, a car raced over and packed. Before she could understand what was happening, a buff guy had jumped out of the car and was coming towards her. She froze, feeling dread wash over her.
He reached over to drag her into the car, a sinister smile on his face. Like she had made herself easy to find. Like she had presented herself as a present to her kidnapper. Like a prey that walked into the predator's den.
Foolish girl, her subby called out. And she snapped out of her daze and screamed.
She screamed as loudly as she could. But she didn't stay still; she wasn't going to make it easy for this guy to get her. She wasn't going down without a fight. She bit, kicked, twisted, and elbowed, all while screaming her head off. His hands tightened around her like her movement was hopeless. As he squeezed her middle, she remembered her baby, her precious cargo.
She panicked and tried to stay still. The more he squeezed, the more likely—
She stopped the thought hard and did the only thing she could do. She prayed. God, please, don't let him hurt my little nugget. I'm so sorry. I promise I will never—
That was as far as her prayer got because Folarin came running down the corner, looking like the big bad wolf, ready to huff and puff and blow the kidnapper away. The guy holding her freaked at the sight of Folarin and threw her, yes, threw her. All five feet five inches of her towards him. He caught her mid-run and stopped. Holding her while the kidnapper drove away. She could feel the anger rolling off him in waves, but she knew that tears were rolling off her in uncontrollable waves. She was quiet except for the shivers that racked through her body.
She prepared herself for the scolding that was coming as she cried her eyes out. Folarin just sighed, shifted her in his hands until he was carrying her bridal style, and then he was off.
“We'll talk when we get home, baby,” he kissed her brow. “You're safe now. I won't let anything happen to you,” he promised. Going through his list.
She felt like he said it for his benefit as much as for hers. It reassured him to know that his brute strength would keep her safe, but what if that wasn't enough?
How much did her life cost? She wondered as the tears tracked down her face.
Folarin stayed quiet until they reached the house. He carried her inside, dropped her on the sofa, and moved out of sight. She heard him moving around in the kitchen, heard him tinkering with something, but it didn't really filter through the haze of shock that surrounded her.
Even her stunning surroundings, which made her stop and stare on a regular day, did nothing to snap her out of her shock. Not the floor-to-ceiling windows of the penthouse or the view of Abuja sprawled beneath her. The high ceilings that made the room feel so much bigger, and the heated wooden floors, didn't inspire awe. Neither the soft brown couch she sat on nor the beautiful honeycomb coffee table.
Nothing broke through her haze. Finally, Folarin returned from the kitchen with a tray that held a steaming cup of what had to be tea. He knew her so well.
She didn't deserve his kindness, she thought as she accepted the cup and took a sip of her favourite tea blend.
“Thank you,” she said after the calming sip. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have—”
“Put yourself or your baby in danger!” his voice doing the whisper-scream. He got up from the chair and paced. “Whatever possessed you to- to—” he stopped hard in his tracks, took a deep breath, and tried to relax.
“How did they know you were here?” his brain had shifted to a different matter, and he started pacing again.
She sighed and took another sip of her tea, glad that her scolding was officially postponed.
“We snuck you out of the house in the middle of the night. We made sure we did everything right. How could they have—”
He stopped hard again; he had figured something out. Her head was hurting from following his movements, so she stared at her cup, trying to look contrite. When really she was amused. The adrenaline had leaked out of her, leaving her feeling sleepy and tired. Maybe that was also because of the run.
“They are tracking you,” he frowned at her. “Where is your phone?” he charged at her.
She pointed at her leggings pocket, and he stuck his hand in there and pulled it out. He held it up to her face, and she looked at the camera lens. She didn't even register what was happening until he screamed. “Ah ha!”
He turned her phone screen to her, but she had checked out.
“What?” she looked at him, trying to read his face. She couldn't focus on her screen.
“Your location is on.”
“My location is always on. Dad tracks me. You track me,” she pointed out.
“Yes, but someone else has access. We need to get rid of your phone,” he said, walking over to the kitchen.
“No, we don't,” she scurried after him as quickly as her feet could carry her.
“Yes, we do,” he pulled a hammer out of his toolbox.
She twisted until she was between him and the island where her phone sat, ready to be burgeoned to death by her overzealous bodyguard. Death by hammering, she thought with a snide smile.
He stopped, hammer poised to strike. He looked at her like she was offending his sensibilities, and she glared right back.
“Let's be logical here,” she started.
“Let's not,” he tried to move her out of the way. But she leapt onto the counter and wrapped her legs around his lower legs to lock him in place. Her hands reached for the hammer. He dropped the hammer on the counter; he wouldn't want to hurt her accidentally.
She caught the action and pressed her advantage, pushing the hammer away slightly. Except it bounced against the edge of the island and landed on the floor with a loud clang.
He looked at the hammer, and she turned his face to her. She was breathing fast, not because of the position she had put them in. No, it was because she had climbed onto the kitchen island like a spider monkey.
“Let's be logical here,” she repeated, trying to steady her breathing and clear her mind. “Why do you think it's my phone that was tracked and not yours?”
He snorted like that was a ridiculous statement. She raised a brow, awaiting his response. “Because,” he said through gritted teeth. “I have software on my phone that makes that impossible. I work on my phone, so it's a secure network. No one can get in if they don't have access.”
“Do I have access?” she smiled.
“I-I—”
“Forget it,” she stopped the lie that was coming. She didn't need access to his phone. What was she thinking? Focus. “Why don't we just install that software on my phone and voila. Secure like Aso Rock,”
“Aso Rock is not secure, there are at least seventy-five weak spots—” he stopped when he saw her expression.
“Do I want to know why you know about Aso Rock's seventy-five—”
“At least,” he added.
“Weak points?” Her brow went up again.
He moved, trying to get out of her leg bondage. Not that it was strong enough to keep him there if he wanted to be free. She unlaced her legs and let him go, feeling the loss of him immediately. She closed her eyes against the thought, against the sensation rocking through her body. I will not think about Folarin like that. He had been her best friend and nothing more.
He is not that lanky teenager you met ten years ago, her subconscious screamed. Look at him. He's sexy.
And he was sexy. Oh, so yummy. Her body took notice, flooding her with want. Wanting Folarin? When had that happened?! She sat up on the island and closed her legs. It was the pregnancy hormones; it had to be. Everyone knew pregnancy made a woman horny. There was no other explanation.
She could hear her subconscious snort loudly. Whatever rocks your boat.
She stopped the thought; there will be no thinking of rocking or boats. Or rocking boats! What was she talking about again? Secure networks!
“Anyway,” Folarin drawled, calling her attention back to him. “You don't need—”
“It's not about need. I want it, so you won't hammer my phone to death.” Why did that sound so sexual?! Pivot Ara! She screamed at herself.
He wiggled his brow jokingly, and she laughed at the gesture.
“I'm just saying, I don't want to go through the hassle of setting up a new phone. I have so many pictures here and—”
“You know it saves to the cloud, right?”
“I know that,” she rolled her eyes at him. “Of course I know that. But we would need to get a new phone—”
“Which we can afford,”
“And set it up all over again—”
“Which can be done in a few hours.”
“What's to say the hacker guy won't just hack into my new phone. If he's as good as you say, anyway.”
He paused at that argument. She smiled; she was getting to him. He could never win against logic. Time to press her advantage. Just two well-thought-out points and she had him slam dunk.
“Think about it,” she paused for effect. So he thought about it. “What if I get a new phone and we see that. Oh, I'm still being tracked. What then?”
“Unless—”
“Unless..." He prompted. She had him hook, line. Now for sinker.
“Unless you plan to take away my phone and all my electronic devices and cut me off from the outside world.” She added a little gasp of horror for effect.
He smiled at that. “I see through you,”
Aramide tapped herself and looked at her stomach. “Since when am I transparent?”
“Ha, ha, very funny.” He smiled and walked over to pick up the hammer.
She did a mental jiggle and dance.
“I can't win against you. I don't know why I try. Fine. I'll ask my tech guy to come over and install the software on all your devices. No cutting you off from the outside world before you do something crazy like—”
“I said I was sorry,” she didn’t want to listen to another scolding. She had done something stupid, she knew. Couldn’t they just move on?
“I heard you,” he frowned. “But I'm still allowed to be angry with you. Need help getting down?” He moved closer to the island.
“Yes, please,” she lifted her hands.
He scooped her off the island like she weighed nothing and carried her across the room to the couch. He dropped her gently and placed her mug in her hands. She took a gratifying sip, feeling parched suddenly.
I wonder why, she subby called out, and Mide ignored it.
“Baby,” he knelt in front of her. There was that nickname again. She noticed it the first time after the break-in.
“You can't just run away when things get hard.”
“I don't run away.”
He raised his brow.
“Okay fine. Maybe I do run away. Sometimes.”
“Maybe? Sometimes?”
She dropped her mug to fold her arms across her chest and glare at him.
“When we were young, you locked yourself in your room for five days with no food or water or contact with the outside world. Do you know how worried your Dad was? How worried I was? You wouldn’t even let me explain. You did the same thing after Dee died.”
“I was grieving.”
“I understand that, but you need to—”
She raised her brow and waited.
“You need to trust others to help you. You need to trust me," he stabbed his chest. "To help you. You need to trust that I have your best interests at heart, and I don't want to lock you up like some sadistic overlord and throw away the key.”
“Sadistic overlord?” She chuckled. “That's the best you could come up with.”
“I'm not joking, babe.” He scolded softly. She noted the nickname again as he continued. “I need to know you take this seriously. Anything could have helped you today.”
He touched her stomach. “To our little terror. Anything.” He closed his eyes, like he was overwhelmed by what he pictured.
“I can't live with myself if anything happened to you, babe. Or this baby. I wouldn't be able to forgive myself. I wouldn't know how to move on. I don't- I can't—”
Mide let him finish. She wanted to hear what he had to say. Wanted to hear the end of that sentence.
“You can’t what Flo?” She finally asked softly.
“I can't live in a world without you in it. Don't ask me to. Don't make me. Don’t force me to.”
She looked into his eyes and sighed. “Oh, Flo. I'm sorry. I know it was stupid and I shouldn't have done it. I was just feeling trapped and—”
“You feel trapped, baby, you come to me. You talk to me. You tell me how you feel, and you let me help you. I came too close to losing you today. I can't live a long life if you keep giving me heart attacks. Do you know how panicked I was when I woke up and you weren't here?”
“My mind skipped to twenty worst-case scenarios. I was out of the house like a bullet. Oh shit,” he paused. “I called your Dad when you went missing, and I haven't called him back.”
The doorbell rang and they looked at each other with a smile. While they were sharing inside jokes looks the polite ringing changed to frantic pounding.