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Chapter Twenty-eight

Author: Daniella Nduka
last update Last Updated: 2024-10-29 19:42:56

    The next day came by much slower than she had anticipated. A part of her dreaded that the detective might have just been right about Robert all along.

After she hung up the cell yesterday, she couldn't  concentrate on anything other than what Veronica had said. As much she tried to get it off her head, that was all she thought about the night before.

Even when Sam called to check on her, she seemed 'off' as he had described to Margaret when he asked after Theresa was fine. Her replies were monotonous which frustrated him but all the more, worried him, he itched to drive back immediately just to see her. 

She was in a cab, subconscious of anything and everything happening around her and hadn't realized that they had been in a particular spot for the last ten minutes. The driver even turned off the ignition and was half asleep, sweating profusely.

Theresa snapped back to reality when the woman wheeling the car behind them kept honkin

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    Robert had just finished conversing with Sam over the phone, who narrated the details of the incident. He had informed him of all the middle aged cop said about ‘someone’ sabotaging his car which led Robert to think back to the note he had received in his mail weeks ago. Could this be related to the bloody note he had received in his mail? The note which read, ‘They’re next’? He stood by the window in his office, gazing into nothingness as he recalled the words of Simon Tunes thirty years ago. It was odd that everything had suddenly began to go awry at the same period, thirty years ago, Simon Tunes was imprisoned for killing his step brother who was also Robert’s best friend. “When I get out, you must suffer ten times what I will,” were the exact words of the bloodshot Simon when the police cuffed him and took him away. Add to the list of unsolved mysteries in his head was the identity of George Brown and why on earth he killed his wife. Simon Tunes

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    George yelped, startled at the invasion. He was wearing a brown singlet and puffed out smoke from his nose, a cigarette in mouth. “What the hell man?” he barked at the huge man who had just broken his door as he assessed the broken lock. “You’re gonna pay for that–“ he was saying when he saw that face. The man had moved to the side, giving Robert enough space to stalk in, a smirk on his hard tight face. It was certain George obviously recognized him as his eyes widened in shock and the cigarette fell to the ground. “George Brown,” Robert called in a whisper, irking at the smell of the cigarette in the completely disorganized room. The small bed in the far end of the room was clustered with a heap of raggedy clothes all over and under it. Snack wrappers at every corner. Only a ray of light shone into the almost dark room through a small window and a table he had been leanin

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    Sam let out a rile sigh. Why now? Charles was the manager of the auto mechanic garage who took appropriate care of anything and everything that goes wrong in their cars. After he had put a few calls through to him the day before, Charles claimed his schedule was occupied for the next two days but promised to come by the weekend. Yesterday he had expected him, he didn’t show up and today, when he had forgotten he even sent for him, he shows up. Just when he was in the middle of something. He groaned out, exchanging looks with Theresa whose cheek had become pink. It was apparent she was embarrassed Margaret had caught them making out. Something he couldn’t care less about. A cheeky smile tugged at his lips as he watched her button her shirt all the way to the top. And he gave her a ‘this isn’t over’ look before following Margaret down to the living room where Charles sat patiently, awaiting him. “Charles.” He called unethusiastically o

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    A month later... Sam was in the agency going through the just printed Cloud newspaper for the next day. He had taken over as the director at the agency and still managed to keep up with his work as the head Publicist despite Margaret's advice to promote one of the publicist in the agency or employ a new one to relieve himself of that much work. He would always tell her that he'll take it into consideration, but in the end, he would do nothing about it. He used work to cloud his thoughts from everything that had occured in the past month. And well, it somehow helped. He was working late again when his phone rang. Without glancing to see the call ID, he reached for the phone in the drawer, from where he had dumped it earlier and placed the phone on his ear, cradling it between his chin and shoulder as he waited for the caller to speak. "Goo

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    Sam looked up from the monitor to see his assistant come in with a latte in hand and a news paper in the other. "Here is today's Cloud newspaper sir," she said, leaving it on the desk, as well as the decaf latte. She flipped open her notepad and began to read out his schedule for the day. ". . . and you have a lunch meeting with Louise Sanders at two to discuss the publication of the last book in her trilogy," she finished, hooking the pen to the notepad. Sam nodded. "I'll speak with Louise Sanders in the early hours of the evening. So, postpone the interview till then." She nodded and quickly scribbled it down on the notepad. "Anything else?" "No," he answered. "Thank you, Emilia." And she exited the office. He sighed. He has been awaiting that lat

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  • Wrenched   Chapter 105

    As soon as Margaret hung up the phone, Theresa quickly draped her phone and wallet into her pockets stuff before dashing twoards the exit door. Vera had skewered a sketchy look on Theresa all the while she saw her eyes light up in excitement. Not knowing what was going, she equally chased after her. Theresa went over the news with her as she stood on the pedestrian walk waiting for a cab and she offered to give her a ride to the hospital before she ended up boarding a truck going towards that route. All through the fortunately swift and smooth ride, her heart danced in excitement; the feeling of joy pulsated through her veins. She had forgotten all about Maxwell Hart and his ridiculous antics. The only thought coursed through her mind was being in the arms of Sam again.In about half an hour, they arrived at the hospital. Without waiting for Vera to pull the gear of the car back to park, she rushed out of the car and into the hospital, not even thinking about signing it

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    By the time Theresa got to the hospital, it was less than thirty minutes to the close of vABy the time Theresa arrived at the hospital, it was less than an hour left to the close of visiting hours. When Magaret saw her coming through the hallway, she stood and walked up to her. The stress wrinkles on Theresa’s forehead were very evident and she looked pale, almost like all the blood in her face had drained down to her body.“What happened? You were gone the entire day.” She asked on reaching Theresa. The pair pulled each other into a brief, warm hug.Not wanting to add to the worries of the woman, Theresa lied. “It’s nothing serious. Just stuff with my Mom.”“Is she alright? Is she in the City?”“What?” She didn’t realize that could backfire and she had no response for those questions. Theresa’s hands traveled to her nape as she quickly thought of yet a

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  • Wrenched   31

    Point of view — Robert JohnsonThat explained everything. It was not a mistake after all. It was James who. . . somehow, managed to get us invited to the award show. It was beyond elating to know that I would be in the same room as the biggest writers and Publicist in the city and states beyond. And of course if we want to fit in, we must also look the part. Which would mean getting a new suit for the occasion. I had only two suits and they were all something in between raggedy and well enough and those weren’t good enough for the award show. I sighed. As James would say, “a small price to pay for salvation.” I made a mental note to contact the seamstress in the weekend. But for now, I had to get ready for the first day at my new job. First official day, I mean. Other than the very unnecessary physical interview and the tour around the office, I had very little work to do yesterday. And that work was only to make copies of documents for my new colleagues

  • Wrenched   30

    Point of view — Robert JohnsonThat explained everything. It was not a mistake after all. It was James who. . . somehow, managed to get us an invite to the Writhe of Writers Awards show. It was beyond elating to know that I would be in the same room with the biggest writers and Publicists in the city, and states beyond. And of course if we want to fit in, we must also look the part. Which would mean getting a new suit for the occasion. I had only two suits and they were both something in between raggedy and well enough; those weren’t good enough for the award showI sighed. As James would say, “a small price to pay for salvation.” I made a mental note to contact the seamstress in the weekend. But for now, I had to get ready for the first day at my new job. First official day, I mean. Other than the very unnecessary physical interview and the tour around the office, I had very little work to do yesterday. And that work was only to make copies of docu

  • Wrenched   29

    Point of view — Robert JohnsonThat explained everything. It was not a mistake after all. It was James who. . . somehow, managed to get us an invite to the Writhe of Writers Awards show. It was beyond elating to know that I would be in the same room with the biggest writers and Publicists in the city, and states beyond. And of course if we want to fit in, we must also look the part. Which would mean getting a new suit for the occasion. I had only two suits and they were both something in between raggedy and well enough; those weren’t good enough for the award showI sighed. As James would say, “a small price to pay for salvation.” I made a mental note to contact the seamstress in the weekend. But for now, I had to get ready for the first day at my new job. First official day, I mean. Other than the very unnecessary physical interview and the tour around the office, I had very little work to do yesterday. And that work was only to make copies of docu

  • Wrenched   28

    Point of view — Robert JohnsonI huffed out after Mr. Jill’s angry stomp away. He was to going to be even angrier when I have to bargain with him on Thursday, to extend the deadline. I didn’t think it was going to be a problem because, well, it was never. So, I waved off his threats. It was nothing new.I took the remaining stairs to the seventh floor, lucky me. For the past week or so, the elevators has been out of order. Heaven knows what went wrong with it, but something did and it had suddenly stopped functioning. A lot of people has been on the management to fix it but nothing. Some of us, especially the occupants of the first few floors, had taken the piss and gotten used to making that walk through the staircase everyday. But for those whose apartment was situated on the tenth floor, thirteenth floor, they were never going to stop complaining, rightly so.As I approached the last stairs, I noticed Samantha, the daughter of a couple

  • Wrenched   27

    Point of View — Robert Johnson.The name resonated so well with me, not because he was going to be my supposed boss, but strictly because he had made it as clear as mud, on not one but multiple occasions that his daughter is and will never be with a “low life” like me. It was one thing that he knew an interest, from my end had sufficed for his daughter. And it was another thing entirely that I had pursued that interest and dare I say, I had won her over.How did I not know that I was applying for a job to a media agency owned by him? No. Of course I didn’t. I would stay as far away from him as possible considering he had only to snap his finger and my entire life could go down the drain. Was it bizarre that I wanted to be like that? To snap my fingers and command circumstance? Effect changes? Control associations? Okay, not the last one. I could never. But still, it’ll be nice to know I could.Back to the job situation, I had looked

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