LOVE BINDS. PART NINE. II: BOMA, SEX AND LIES.

I heard the car outside and put on Rihanna on medium volume, I wanted her to set a nice soothing mood for my session with NdaLonga. I picked up a cigarette and my lighter from the coffee table as I sat eager and ready to welcome my queen. What I saw when the door swung open curdled my blood solid. Before I could stand steady to welcome my queen, he jumped on me. I wasn't ready. Prior to that moment I was able to overlook the reality that my queen had her king, and one day he would come to claim her.

He gave me no time to react. Before I knew it my neck was in his grip. I couldn’t fight back or attempt resolution. What resolution, I didn’t even know why the beefy guy was being a pain on my neck. I was weakened as one of his huge fingers pressed on the spot that took Samantha’s screwdriver. I felt my face turn purple. My oxygen starved lungs were giving up on me while my entire life flashed before my eyes, most of it was pictures of Bison. Oh Bison, I formed the scent of her perfume imagining that it would still be the same when we finally met. But was I ready?

All my life, I just wanted to prove myself, prove to Mwila-An that I was worthy of her. But was I worthy of her if I couldn't fight for her life? Worse, fight for my own? She would have wanted me to be strong. If I couldn't fight for her the least I could do was fight for my life and whatever little molecules of soul I had left in me.

So I gave him a knee on the crotch - he didn't flinch. Then another, and another. I mindlessly slammed my knee into his crotch with my last breaths. I heard a huge growl. When I opened my eyes he was on the floor, laying on his side with both hands on his genital area.

I attempted an escape by crawling, I groped the floor aimlessly hoping that possibly, just possibly my hand would stumble across something I could use as weapon or perhaps a shield, but my efforts were all in vain. He grabbed my leg. Adrenaline charged me and I started kicking. I hit something. His jaw, his head, or his shoulder I didn't know but the nigga was still on to me. By some grace I managed to escape the grasp he had on my leg. I jumped up and ran straight to the door, stormed out fearing he was still on to me. Just as I was about to hit the road I saw bright lights headed towards me. God? Heaven? No! An incredible pain came over me as spikes of glass ripped through my skull and torso.

When I woke up the next morning my body was in tormenting pain, heavy with stitches. My head was splitting, the blood felt like it was boiling and almost coming out of my eyes. Longa came in. I was almost smiling until the huge man walked in behind her. His face was badly bruised and he didn’t look happy. But for a man of that size, I highly doubt anyone ever got to see his happy face. He was brawny, barrel chested with arms so huge I could have sworn he bench pressed elephants.

"Ishmael, how are you feeling?” Longa asked in a soft tone. “Do you remember what happened last night” she inquired while closing the space between us. The man didn't move an inch. Disgust was laced in his eyes.

“My head hurt I got attacked in my house last night” I answered back. My voice hoarse from my dry swollen throat. I could barely speak. The man’s breath was getting heavy, his chest heaved before he finally erupted.

“Nizakupaya iwe!! You think you can play with my wife?” he took a step to come at me. Longa came in the way. “Ba Gerry not like this! Mwalamwipaya!” her eyes filled with tears.

Longa and Gerard met during her final year in college. Just like in the fairy tales it was love at first sight. She was attending a friend’s wedding, so was Gerard. They shared a few glances, he smiled at her and she smiled back. Two weeks is all it took for them to get to Longa's room. One tiny window, a single bed and a rusty two plate cooker. It was always hot, their sweaty bodies rubbing against each in passion. He knew she was his wife and she knew it too. Two years down the line, they expressed their knowledge before their families and their God. The wedding was perfect. Married life was perfect. And then Gerard started working out of town regularly. Longa missed their hot sessions and decided on a surprise visit. Ironically, to her surprise she found him with another woman at the lodge where he was supposed to be spending lonely nights. Everything in her world fell apart but she couldn't leave. Her breasts didn’t sit as high on her chest as they used to, her freshness was worn out and her womb was as cold and as hostile.There was no sane man who would accept an old barren woman. Perhaps she was being punished for her sins.

That was the case until she met Ishmael on his first day of work. Young, smart and quite a humorous guy. He made her laugh until she forgot herself. His’ devil may care’ attitude was a sign of his dark past even when it came to work. He was daring and it excited her.

As fate may have it, Longa was working late, she didn’t want to go home to her cheating husband and silent house strained with the underlying effects of unresolved issues. Work was her refuge. Ishmael walked in; he was drunk and only returned because he remembered that he forgot his laptop in the office. He drew close to her and she caught a whiff of his whiskey breath laced with marijuana smoke. She was supposed to be repulsed but she was aroused instead. He was drunk and horny, charming too. They explored each other’s guilty bodies and dirty minds. It was lustful, dissolute; but lustful and dissolute is what she just needed. Lustful and dissolute drowned her insecurities and hurt. Four months into it, what might have seemed to be a one night stand turned into an affair -Ishmael found serenity in the sex they had, and she found solace in him.

“Junior misses you riding him” read a text on Longa's phone.

Gerard was laying on his bed, basking in the satisfaction of a job well done by his wife when the text came in. The job was so well done she had to go and take a shower. Immodest, clueless. Bile rose in his throat. He saw the text, from ‘Jessica’. He was arrogant but Gerard was not entirely stupid. He called his penis ‘junior’ too, with other women. And he knew Jessica didn't have a ‘junior’. If anything she was supposed to have ‘cherry’. Whichever the case, he knew Longa was up to no good.

He wore a fake smile and kept his discovery to himself while and kept tabs on Longa's movements until he found out who Jessica was and why his wife was riding her ‘junior’.

He finally found Jessica on the same night Longa was supposed to be there for some steamy sex. He was going to give her a piece of his mind, most likely his fist was. Jessica who happened to be a scraggly, chamba smoking man managed to escape, but before he could make the victory lap Longa rammed him with her car. Where his fist had failed him, Karma had stepped in.

The king had come to claim back his queen.