The Runaway: IV


For a minute, Tonye Raymond was lost in her eyes. It wasn’t everyday you saw a Nigerian with very dark, black eyes. In fact he has never seen one. She was a sight to behold. Her colour further accentuates the beauty of her eyes, making her look like an extremely cute kitten. Mr. Udofia had told him last night, about a young nurse he had found. But he hadn’t told him how beautiful she was.

“Good Morning Sir.” Tonye heard the girl’s voice, which woke him up from his wonderland.

He cleared his throat before answering, in order to find his voice. “Morning Miss. Oludare.”

Giving his wrist watch a quick glance, he said, “We should leave now. I’m running pretty late.”

He didn’t have time to waste. His mom was coming back from her trip tomorrow. If she met the house without a nurse attending to her mother, she would tear his eyes out. This was something that up till this day, still amused Tonye. His mother, Mrs Simisola Raymond, had imposed her mother on him. She had given the excuse of not always being around, being busy, and bla bla bla. No one wanted to take care of the woman, including the twins―his elder sisters. Not that you can blame them though; Grandma Kehinde was a pain in the ass. No nurse ever lasted up to six months with her. She always found something to complain about them. Tonye couldn’t count how many nurses he had hired. As much as this irks him, he never complained, because when his mom and dad were busy going on business trips, Grandma was the one who nurtured him. Grandma was his best friend. So, when they had all placed her under his care, he had obliged.

“Alright. Just a minute please, I need to get my bag.” Abi said, making a turn to Mr. Udofia’s Mitsubishi. And at that moment, her voice brought back memories. She reminded him of the waitress at Rhexas’, who was to bring him his order before the ‘supposed robbery’ distorted everything. For reasons he couldn’t nail, that voice had come singing in his head last night. If this was the waitress from yesterday, then he must have been stupid to have thought her to be one of those girls who bleached the life out of their skins. The girl looked to be a mulatto. Fine, she had a nigerian accent, and her names are all Yoruba, but you could tell that her colour was hers, no distortions.

However, one can’t really blame him for assuming she was all bleached during their first encounter. His experience with girls was what turned him into someone who ceased to date fair girls. There had been quite a number of ladies he had taken home to meet his needs, only to find that at the middle of probably a striptease, he would see lots of green, black, weird veins all over, or back-palms that are extremely darker than they should. Having had enough of such girls, he had made a decision to date only girls with darker skin, not that he was dark himself. He was those kind of people you couldn’t place as either dark, or fair in complexion.

The sound of the passenger door of his jeep pulled him out from his thoughts.
And as he kicked off the engine, set for Lagos, he made a mental note: she’s going to be trouble.

。     。     。

“What’s your name beautiful?”

Maria smiled at the good looking man she was to take an order from. She wanted tips.

“Maria”. she answered.”

I want tips too. The good-looking man said inwardly.

“What can I get you?” Maria continued, since the man was only smiling at her, and not saying anything anymore.


Maria inwardly rolled her eyes. Stupid man.

“How much?” She spoke through her teeth. She was only doing this for money. She had a lot of debts on her neck.

The man named a very a good price, which made her mouth to water. She gestured to the rooms upstairs. Best to get it over with, as soon as possible. But the man said,
“No, my place.”

With that, they went out into the parking lot and trotted to the man’s car. As they both sat on the car seats, the man slipped his hand into his pockets and brought out, not his car keys, but a gun.


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