Better

The next time I woke up, the sun was already setting. I was feeling better, rested, though my joints and muscles ached from the lack of movement.

As for the bump on my head, it was only sensitive to touch. there was no more throbbing. My hair on the other hand was a tangled mess. My head felt naked when my hair was down. I searched my pockets and then the barren room for anything that I could use to tie it back. The only thing I found was the glass of water that had been refilled, and that I greedily gulped down.

The bedroom door had been left open, and hollowed sounds from a Television could still be heard. As soon as the smell of food tickled my nose, my stomach grumbled.

The last meal I had eaten was the vegetable sauce my mother made specially for me. How long ago was that? My brain was still too foggy to count back the hours or the days. The thought of my mother sent chills down my spine. I haven't heard from my parents and I knew they would be worried sick.

Letting my stomach do the thinking, I got out of bed and shuffled to the door barefooted. The darkening hallway had many doors, all the same as the one I had just walked through, and all closed. The only source of light came from the other end of the hall. I passed a small, white-tiled foyer and what looked like a front door, or a way to escape.

The door had five different locks on it. I kept going while I tried to calculate how long it would take me to go through all those locks before I was discovered. A tiny knot loosened inside of me when I noticed my worn, familiar sneakers neatly placed next to the pile of large shoes that were on the floor.

In the living room, Maxine was sprawled on one of the couches, remote control in hand, looking utterly bored. The other man was sitting erect on the edge of an armchair. He shot up and stood as soon as he saw me, his venomous stare unimproved.

Maxine followed his gaze and narrowed his eyes, as he scanned me head to toe. "You look like crap," he remarked, with a warm smile.

"Thanks." I said the only word that came to mind. My voice was still throaty.

"Hungry?" Maxine asked and I nodded.

He stood up and led me to a small dining space obviously made for just two people. "Hollis is in the kitchen, he will be out pretty soon." He whispered this for God knows why but I nodded.

"There you are, did you rest well?" Came a voice I didn't fail to recognize.

I turned to see Hollis strolling out of the kitchen, a cardboard box with green symbols in one hand. There was something decidedly different about him. The worried creases on his forehead and around his eyes were lessened. I couldn’t stop my heart from thudding.

He was handsome for a Cartel Boss. Feeling the weight of the other man’s stare, I tucked my hair behind my ears and shifted uncomfortably.

"Rocco, you're freaking her out." Maxine tapped the man's arm.

Hollis's smile almost reached his eyes. Scoping out of the food from the box into an empty plate, he paused and took something out of his pocket and handed it to me. It was a rubber band. My face flushed while he watched me put my hair up. but I felt better, less naked, as soon as my luxury tinted beauty was pulled back.

Hollis pushed my food to me and I dived in, keeping my eyes down to the table to avoid looking at Rocco. I was never the type to be intimidated, n.e.v.e.r. But I guess being faced with the possibility of death could change people's orientation.

When I looked up again, Rocco had found the edge of his seat again and turned half his attention to the television.

I started loading food into my mouth while Hollis watched me. Every time I looked up from my plate, his eyes were on me.

"I spoke to your parents." He finally broke the silence. "They know you're fine, we're buddies from way back and you'll stay here for a while."

"You told them everything?" I found my voice.

"I told them what they needed to know. Not everything actually. It's not in my place to do that. You can give them a better explanation when you feel better."

"Really." I was happy that I could make calls freely, yet I wondered how my parents took the news. "And they took it well?"

"No, they didn't. But they don't have a choice as it is."

I nodded "When can I speak to them?"

"When I'm sure you're okay."

There was something unsettling about the way he said it. Like he was certain I would never be okay. Like his interpretation of okay was completely different from mine.

"Do you feel better today?" He asked, changing the topic.

I swallowed. "Yes. Thank you."

He paused and read my face. His eyes narrowed, unsatisfied with what he found. "How’s your head?"

I doubted he knew what a loaded question that was. "My skull is fine."

"Do you feel dizzy?" He asked quickly.

I brought my spoon to my mouth. "Not anymore."

He waited, and then he continued, "any throbbing?"

"Just a little bit," I answered truthfully but quickly before he chose to poke and prod my head to catch me in a lie again. He paused and watched.

"Good," he said finally with satisfaction.

I breathed a sigh of relief. I had passed his assessment.

I looked down at my plate with surprise. one more spoonful and it would be polished off.

"More?" Hollis asked with amusement when I took my last bite. I thought about it, but shook my head. He took the empty plate back into the kitchen. With Hollis's easy mood and food in my stomach, a lot of food actually, my shoulders were starting to unclench.

It didn’t occur to me why Hollis was so relaxed until he came out of the kitchen and announced his decision, "Maxine's going to take you for a drive."

My full stomach dropped to my knees, and Maxine smiled a hideous painful smile that had me going crazy at the spot.

Rocco shot his head up, surprised by the announcement. Apparently Hollis hadn’t shared his plan with him.

Turning to Maxine, he spoke. "You’re taking Ugo to The Garden tonight." He said and his brother nodded but shook his head after a while.

"Tonight you mean. It’s already getting dark and It will take forever."

I took a deep breath. I still had hope.

'Maxine doesn't think it's a good time to kill me yet.'

But Hollis offered incentive. He grabbed a set of keys from the kitchen counter and threw them across the room to Maxine, who caught them.

His eyes lit up. "Seriously, you want me to take your car." He said, his voice filled with doubt.

Rocco stared at Hollis in disapproval, but kept silent. Not needing any further encouragement, Maxine hastily got up, glanced in my general direction and headed for the door. "Let’s go, U." He said.

My stomach was now down to my toes. Was taking someone to 'The Garden' some kind of code word along the same line as 'making someone join their ancestors.'

Tears sprung to my eyes. I couldn’t breathe. I turned the full focus of my pleadings to Hollis. "Hollis, please don’t do this. I won’t talk, I won't misbehave, I will do anything you ask of me, I’ll do whatever you want. It doesn’t have to be like this."

But my handsome Lord's easy mood turned to ice, and his lips spread thin. "Your shoes are at the door," he said sharply.

I looked down, my teeth biting into my quivering bottom lip. I went to the front door and slid into my sneakers, not bothering to lace them up. By the time I made it out of the apartment, Maxine was already down the hallway, at the elevator, impatiently pressing the button over and over.

I looked back and saw Hollis's back was turned, and his arms were tight to his side. I closed the door.

The hallway was bright, with brick walls painted white and plush carpets. Not the kind of carpet I expected to find in the hallway of an apartment building but the expensive kind that your feet sink into and leave footprints behind when you walk on it barefoot.

There were only two doors on the floor, the one I had just exited, and the door to the elevator I was about to enter. The apartment, I noted, must have been a penthouse.

Going down the elevator, Maxine was silent, squirmy, spinning the key ring around his index finger, clearly indifferent that I would be joining him, even if it would only be for a little while, until I was dead.

The elevator doors opened, and we stepped out into a closed-in garage, with a garage door at the front and a laneway only big enough for cars to tightly enter and exit. There were four vehicles in the garage.

One was a newer model black pickup truck, and two were beaten-up, rusty cars. The fourth car was an Audi, sleek black with tinted windows. The Audi beeped as we came closer.

Maxine jumped right in and started it up. I hesitated, casting my eyes in search of an exit that I might have missed. He rolled down the window and stuck his head out. "You don't want to try running, do you?" He smiled. "If yes, don't do it. My brother's kindness has limits. Now get in the car." He said.

I wasn’t dumb enough to assume that he was being nice or thoughtful of me. My heart pumping through my ears, I climbed into the passenger side, the Audi’s locks clicked shut as soon as I closed the door.

Maxine gripped the steering wheel and side-glanced me. "Put your seatbelt on, this is going to be fun."

I did as I was told, and he hit the red button on the rearview mirror, which caused the garage door to slide open. We drove out onto the gloomy street. Maxine didn’t let go of the gas pedal until we were driving well above the speed limit.

Darkened street signs flashed by. He sped through a red light, swerving around a car that was patiently waiting for its turn.

'What was the point of making me wear my seatbelt if he was planning on killing the both of us by crashing the car.'

With an extended grin, he weaved us in and out of traffic. Eventually we moved away from the city streets and onto a country road. We picked up more speed, but at least there were no other cars to play chicken with.

I was able to unclench my teeth and my stranglehold on the security bar against the door, using my free hand to wipe my newly dampened forehead. The car air-conditioner couldn't do anything for me.

With little distraction and the car’s novelty having worn off, Maxine remembered that I was sitting next to him. "Sorry about your head," he said, his eyes still on the road.

Unprepared for this discovery, I kept quiet. What was I supposed to say. Hitting my head on whatever it was, seemed insignificant compared to what was coming.

"How did you manage to sneak away from me?" He asked, like he was nervous with my silence.

"I didn’t sneak by you," I hissed, my eyes shooting daggers at him. "You were walking too fast and I lost sight of you."

"Who goes about peeping through closed doors when they miss their way. It’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard. You're good at karate right?" He asked.

I nodded, but my lips said something else. "No."

"You'll have to show me what you've got when you're settled. I could show you one or two tricks for self defense and assault."

My mind went from a hundred to a sharp ten. "You're not going to kill me tonight!" I blurted out.

"Kill you? Hell no! Why would I do that."

"I...... I thought taking me to The garden was a code word that shared the same meaning with idioms like sending me to meet my ancestors." I confessed.

Maxine started laughing. "Shit U, what's going on in that head of yours. I would never lay a finger on you. Not me, not anyone else. You have no reason to be scared Reina."

I jolted at the name again. "What does that even mean?"

"Reina?"

"Yes."

"Queen." He replied.

"I am no Queen." I corrected.

"Oh, but you are. You are my brother's woman. He's the Boss, you're his Queen."

"I'm nobody's woman." I rushed at him, hating the sound of the sentence.

Maxine shrugged. "I stand to be corrected then."

We passed through yellow road signs with pictures of crumbling rocks flashing by us. He was still speeding, but at a more considerable tempo now.

We were heading into the largely uninhabited mountains. Even though I've been assured that today won't be my last day on earth, I still felt the panic in me.

A hazy survival tip from one of those crime shows clicked in my head, make the attacker see that you’re a real person, not just a nameless witness to a murder, or something like that.

"My name is Ugo Chike," I announced. He looked at me like I was crazy. "Right. I've forgotten you know that already. You told me yours, didn't you?" I asked, my full stomach lurching as the Audi sped into a curve.

He nodded. "Maxine."

"My mom’s name is Ada and we call my dad Papa-Bear. And he met my mum at a health summit they both attended and exchanged contacts. I was named after my grandmother. I am a lawyer, or I used to be one. I love my body and skin so much that I spend a reasonable chunk of my salary on the gym, karate classes, yoga and appointments with my nutritionist and dermatologist. I have a best friend, the best girl in the whole world. I don't want to share her name...."

"Yeah, I've met her, once." He said, pushing me to pause. But I refused to stop talking. It was better than being terrified.

"I don't think I ever want to get married, I hate commitments and high expectations...."

"Okay, what's going on? Are you high on drugs, are you scared? What's with the influx of information." He asked, finally slowing the Audi down. There was incredulity mixed with an edge of worry in his voice.

"So marriage is not....." I meant to continue but I felt a knot in my throat. My heart started racing, and my body temperature went up a thousand degrees. "Oh God!" I yelled.

"U, what is the problem, talk to me." he sighed, worried.

"I’m going to be sick." I started heaving my hand in front of my mouth.

"Hold on. Keep it in." He stretched to the back of the car seat and pulled out a plastic bag, emptying its contents, he gave it to me.

I pulled the bag open and I threw up immediately, repeatedly.

"Gross." He gasped, opening his window.

The fresh air that came in from the opened window made me feel better, plus I had nothing left in my stomach to puke up anyway.

After a few minutes, I pulled my face away from the bag and glanced up. He was glaring at me, wincing. His face had gone from rosy-cheeked to pale and worried.

"Throw the bag out the window," he ordered.

"I can’t do that." I said. "It’s a plastic bag. It will take over a hundred years to disintegrate. I don’t want to pollute......."

"U.g.o," he said, carefully enunciating every syllable, throw the fucking bag out the window."

I sighed and reluctantly threw the bag out my window. But I didn’t feel the slightest bit guilty as I watched him breathe through his nausea.

"Sorry," I said, trying to not mock him.

"That’s the grossest thing I’ve seen in a while. Now I’m kinda glad we didn’t take my car." His voice trailed back into his head. "Ugh!" he groaned dramatically a few seconds later.

Tired and worn out, I let my head fall back into the seat and closed my eyes.