Femi couldn’t sleep.
His mane itched, so he scratched a bit and sighed.
“Wetin I go do now?”, he wondered. Parked by his side and purring peacefully, Jennifer turned in her sleep. She’d been out cold the last ten minutes, deeply ensconced in that sleep that typically follows earth-shattering orgasms.
He stared at her for a bit, watching her chest rise and fall. She had beautiful skin, with a supple bosom and a pretty face. He recalled the first time they met, how the sparks had flown, how he knew, just knew he’d be screwing her soon. He was a fox, she was a Cheetah and yeah, he wasn't racist, but he knew her type. They always came easy to him, the giant pussies. It was his talent, his flair, his ability to win over any woman with his cunny love. He chuckled a little, remembering barely thirty minutes ago when in the heat of passion, she moaned out someone else’s name. That didn’t bother him in the slightest, he knew he had unlocked an earlier, more primal memory. He sighed and thought about his arm, still locked in the name of “cuddling”(oh, how he hated it) and he planned his escape. He had done the deed. Gbas, Gbos, Cum, Gbas. It was time to leave.
Like a man well practised in the art, Femi lifted her neck carefully. Thankfully, she tossed around a bit and rested on her side of her bed. He thanked his stars and hurriedly searched for his clothes. His eyes scanned the small room. Boxers on the fan, found. He stretched one arm to get it, taking extra care to not disturb the sprawling form on the bed.
“Femi, are you leaving me?”
Jennifer’s voice cut through the air like a knife.
Jesus Christ. How did she…
“Oh, no baby. I was just getting a blanket to cover you. You seemed so cold…”
“Oh okay, I thought you were leaving me for a minute. Don’t worry about it, your body is all I need..”
“But, I…”
“Come here…I think we can try that other stuff you wanted…”
What the hell, he thought. He didn't have a choice. A fox gotta fox. The cat was out of the bag already, so to speak. He dropped his pants and took her outstretched hand, pulling her close to him as he dove back on the bed. Her hands were already all over him, reaching for hard flesh and crevices. His ears suddenly perked.
Footsteps. Heavy footsteps. A knock, then two at the door.
Knock Knock
Knock Knock Knock
Hard. Consistent. Invasive
“Who’s that?”
“Shhhhhhhhhhhh!!!”
“What??”
“I say shuttup! Don’t say anything!”
“Ah, why? Who is at the door?”
“Is that how you used to do? Just shout who is that for anybody? Were you raised by rats?Abeg wait jare lemme check”
“Amaka come and open this door. I don't have time for your shenanigans.” bellowed a deep voice.
“Femi, my boyfriend is at the door!”
“What?”
“Are you deaf? I say my man is at the door. Hey God, he will kill us today.”
“Guy you told me you didn't have a man now…”
“And now I am telling you my fiance is at the door. You better hide. He’s not…He….”
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.
“AMAKA OPEN THIS DOOR NOW.”
“He’s not what?”
“He’s in the Triangle.”
Femi suddenly felt like he had just been hit in the gut. As he tried to catch his breath, he realized what he just heard. The triangle was the most dangerous cult group in the city. They ran the drugs, girls and guns everywhere, even clashing with police and army from time to time. Their initiation proceedings were so brutal, 1 out of 3 people died during the process. Rumor had it that they had even been hired at the last elections to detonate the bomb that took out the IG of police.
Asides this, he had heard other things. Dark, unexplainable things. Femi swallowed, hard.
“Fuck, Jessica I didn't plan for this shit! What the fuck do I do now???”
“Did you just call me someone else? My name is Jennifer!”
“Can we focus on the problem?? He’s gonna kill us!”
“He shouldn't be here long. Don’t be a pussy. Just go into the wardrobe, I’m sure he won’t stay long. I’d try and distract him and you go out through the kitchen, okay? Now go go go before he breaks the door!”
They both heard a key turn in the lock at the same time. Startled, Femi jumped in the wardrobe, barely grabbing his clothes. His mind was working in overdrive and adrenaline pumped like fuel in his veins. He needed to escape, but how? Trapped in the closet like an old R-kelly song, he struggled to be calm. He could hear Jennifer, abi Jessica, (“fuck, its actually Amaka”) run up to the door while echoing “coming sweetie!” in her sweetest voice. The bile rose in his throat.
“Hey, Tyrone. You’re back early.”
“Hmmm”
“Or did you miss me too much?”
“Shut your mouth. Kept me waiting outside for what? What were you doing?”
“Nothing baby. Just looking for the keys. What's the matter, my king?”
Tyrone was built like a bulldozer. A cross between a Liger and a puma, he stood at 6 ft 5' from his brown colored hair to the tip of his tail. The mutation in one eye made his gaze even more piercing when the light reflected off his chiseled facial features. His jawline, hardened from years of confrontations with other gangs was cut in numerous places and stained with dried blood.
“We just got attacked by the Wolfgang babe. I need the package I left in the wardrobe”, he says as he staggers into the room, barely noticing Femi’s belt still draped on the chair. “I swear, I’ll get those bastards once and for all now.”
“My precious prince,” Jennifer cooed. “Don’t worry yourself about that right now. Lemme take care of you instead.”
“No. I need to get my package and bounce. I told you..arggh my head…”
Meanwhile, in the recesses of the wardrobe, a pool of sweat had already formed at Femi’s feet. Small piss too. He mopped it with his shirt.
Which kain wahala be this one now, eh God?
When Tyrone entered the room, he had almost relieved himself fully there. Femi had been convinced he would somehow pick up his scent so he closed his eyes and basically said his last prayers. Luckily, he found a couple of perfumes in the wardrobe so he spayed them quickly.
Ija wa, ija osi. Always guiding.
He shook his head and wiped a bead from his forehead. All this for what? One hour smash? The box was good but not die on the line good. To think that his bestfriend had warned him about cheetahs. He made a mental note of how funny this would be if he could somehow escape this situation while clutching his life. Slowly, the voices in room quietened down a bit and so did his heartbeat. Outside, he could hear Jennifer trying to soothe the beast.
Catch your breath, my guy, This is not your first wardrobe.
He peered through a crack in the wardrobe door. Jennifer sure had her ways with words because Tyrone wasn’t so loud anymore. He hit his head on a cloth hanger and almost screamed. The wardrobe was choked with the perfume and he felt like he couldn't breathe. Suddenly, he heard grunts.
Wait a minute. Are these guys really gonna…son of a ….
But that was it! The plan! “I’ll Distract him”, she had said, “So you can sneak out”. More like dickstract, amirite? he chuckled to himself before quickly rebuking his silly mind for the temerity to even think of jokes. This was life and death. They had just started so he knew he had roughly ten or so minutes to organize his movement. Slowly, he rechecked the surprisingly spacious wardrobe to see if he could find anything to aid his escape. Piles of clothes, various hangers of different colors and different shoes. On the whole, nothing. Just by the corner, nestled under a wooden ledge lay a small bag with a red handle.
No p. Anyway na way. Time to Jakpa.
Femi opened the wardrobe door slowly and put one paw out.
YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS.
Fucking hell. This nigga a one minute man.
With a sudden rush of confused syllables and unprintable swear words, Tyrone came with a roar and collapsed on the bed. He pulled her closer so she backed the wardrobe.
“Ugh Baby. Whew! That was great!
“Hmmm”
“You know this is why I love you, yeah?”
“I know, daddy. Now rest for a bit”
“You know this is why I can't ever bear to see you with anyone else.”
“Yes daddy, I’m yours. Now sleep for a minute so you can..”
“You know I’d kill anyone that tries yeah…”
“Yes, my King. You don't have to worry..”
“You know I only hit you cos I love you.”
‘Yes Daddy, I know. Please rest..”
“Why are you asking me to rest? Do I look weak?”
“No Da….”
“Do you want me to hit you?”
“No Daddy.”
Now, Silence. Femi was back in the wardrobe, barely breathing.
“You’re a witch. My guys are fighting the Wolfgang and you lure me here to drain me of my strength? Who sent you?”
“Daddy, what are you talking about?”
“I’m getting my stuff and I’m out of here. And when I get back, you’d better tell me who the fuck sent you to me. It's in the wardrobe yeah? Filthy whore.”
Shuffles, clothes been worn. Curses been muttered. Jennifer’s tears. Femi knew the gig was up.
He panicked. Again, he looked around the wardrobe to find something to protect himself. So this is how it all ends, choked to death by a naked man. He frantically tossed the clothes around, looking for a knife, a gun, anything. He wondered what the “package” could be. Then it dawned on him. There was nothing else. It had to be this box. What kind of weapon could be inside? A gun? A new type of explosive? What?
He opened the box, slowly.
To be continued.
