Chapter 2: Mark of Thunder

"I swear, I wan make everybody see you like this—dey beg for am."

As e talk, e dey press body for me, voice low, almost like whisper. Na that kind dangerous play wey fit turn to wahala quick. Some nights, I dey fear say wall get ear for this lodge.

"Like dog wey dey find mate for street."

Femi press him mouth for my collarbone, dirty talk just dey enter my ear.

E breath dey hot, e teeth dey graze my skin. Sometimes, na this same mouth e go use insult me later. My body dey stiff, but I no gree show am.

"Na me be dog? So you wey dey hold this dog for ten years, na wetin you be?"

I look am straight, my eye cold, just dey mock am.

I make sure say my face no shift. For my mind, I dey count all the times e don call me dog, slave, everything. But today, I no go bend.

Him fine but wild face just twist, that scar for him eyebrow make am look like real beast.

That scar sharp like lightning for rainy season. Some girls dey drool for am, but for me, na reminder say e fit snap anytime. I sabi when e get am—e go come later.

Desire and anger just dey mix for him eye, like say punishment wan rain.

For that small room, heat dey rise. E dey look me like person wey wan swallow trouble. My heart dey beat, but my body no gree betray me. I hold my ground, dey ready for anything.

"Open your eye well—make you see how dog dey mark territory."

The threat just dey hang for air. Na so e dey do, always dey test me, dey push boundary. If I show weakness, na my own be that. But I swear, e no go see my tears today.

……

Water dey run for bathroom.

That gurgle of water na my cue. I use am cover my own wahala, so e no go hear as I dey waka for room, dey find small space for myself.

Sharp sharp, I carry ₦10,000 from Femi wallet, put am for my piggy bank.

I dey sharp. As e dey bath, I don already carry wetin go help me tomorrow. I mutter small prayer—God abeg, cover me make e no catch. I dey gather my own power small small. Money na spirit, and I dey respect am.

Femi no ever understand am, e think say na money I like, so e dey try give me different gifts.

To am, if e just drop money or gift, matter don end. E go dey do like say na only thing wey fit move me. But e no sabi say my own wahala pass designer bag or iPhone.

Title deed for house wey worth millions—I tear am without fear; diamond ring wey cost millions—I throw am inside dirty gutter.

Dem say make you fear woman wey fit throw diamond for gutter. Na true o. Femi eye go red that day, e nearly faint. But for my mind, na freedom I dey find, not be chain.

But na those red notes I dey keep, dey gather dem till e wan full everywhere…

I dey stash my own small, dey build escape money. If e try anyhow, I go waka commot for this life, go Jos, go anywhere. Na only that cash dey give me small hope for future wey no get Femi inside.