Even though my eyes were closed, I breathed his anger.
It flushed on my face, penciling goosebumps on my skin.
His manly frame shoved me to the wall and my lips trembled under his dominance.
"You won't like me to repeat myself. Have I made myself clear?"
"Yes, sir."
Dwain's mobile vibrated and he repeatedly cursed under his breath.
His body weight lifted from mine and gave me a bit of breathing space.
But, no matter the distance between the both of us, my heart still banged on my chest like an engine.
He didn't believe the truth about my identity just like everyone else.
He talked about my birthmark.
The dirty burn on my left shoulder.
Why did he insinuate that Lisa and I had the same mark?
Could it be even possible for two random people to have the same birthmark if they weren't related?
Two people won't have the same birthmark unless they were clones.
Why was he refusing to accept the truth?
I said I wasn't Elizabeth, yet he didn't believe me. Why?
Fear didn't permit me to open my moist eyes.
Dwain could rape me, assault me, kill me, and throw my cadaver to his dogs; yet, no one would know.
My heart was petrified.
There wasn't any way out of this nightmare, yet, I trusted my instinct; someone would come for me.
"Tell those investors whatever you want but make sure they attend tomorrow's meeting, if not, tell them to forget about the deal. I don't have time to trash talk with any of them and their opinion doesn't count. Get back to sleep. It's an order, not a question, Jana. See you at work."
He dropped the call and flung his mobile on the table.
Night breeze strolled into the room, but the dripping anger in Dwain's voice stirred up the heat in the room.
Why wasn't I rebellious?
Why didn't I fight this man back?
Why couldn't I defend myself, though he was mentally and physically abusive?
I was weak and scared of him.
I hated myself, for being a chicken.
He grabbed a blanket from the bed and a pillow, then, made his way to the couch.
Shrugging into the cushion, he opened his laptop which sat on a transparent glass frame table next to the couch.
Then, he drowned his attention on the screen.
I also took note of a mug that he had placed beside his laptop and multiple files lingering on his desk.
I walked to his bed and did my little prayer.
Then, I pulled the covers over my body and snuggled deep into the pillows, waiting for sleep to catch me in its arms.
I rolled on my back several times but I didn't sleep.
I opened my eyes and stared at Dwain.
He hovered over his keyboard and sipped the content of his mug.
The lights from his laptop, reflected on his face, enabling me to watch the quiet version of Dwain.
He had beautiful features.
His fingers were smooth.
His nails were well-trimmed and they were beautifully aligned.
I started counting the locks of hair that fell carelessly onto his face, but sleep engulfed me in its quiet flames.
THE BRIGHTNESS OF DAYLIGHT paved into my eyes and burned my face.
I rubbed my eyelids and yawned.
My breath tickled my nostrils and I flushed my heavy eyes open.
It took some seconds for my orifices to adapt to the light.
One glance at my surroundings and yesterday's happenings haunted me.
I snuggled deep into the covers and closed my eyes, praying for the sweet Lord to wake me up from this dream.
Where did Dwain go to?
Did he abandon me?
He wasn't in the room.
I fought the urge of laying in bed and flipped the covers from my legs.
I slipped into the comfortable fluffy slippers on the shiny wooden floor.
Yesterday's petals and scented candles hadn't been moved.
Why were they even present last night?
I sighed and stretched my hands.
The couch on which Dwain spent his night working on was empty.
His blanket sat on the couch in a nice fold with a pillow stretched on its thickness.
No sounds came from the bathroom either.
Did I spend the night with a phantom?
I strolled to the balcony.
It gave me a perfect view of the city, the tall buildings, the ministries, and other high-class companies.
Since Dwain wasn't on the balcony, I returned to the room.
To my greatest surprise, a lady with shiny fair skin, and blonde hair that nicely fell to her back in a neat ponytail stood in my way.
Her vigorous smile made her little eyes look smaller and her black business suit hugged her body in all the perfect curves.
Gosh, she balanced herself on the skyscraper's black pair of heels.
"Hello, I'm sorry to have badged in without seeking your attention. By the way, I'm Janarura, Mr. Horton's Secretary, but you can call me Jana."
She extended her hand to me.
Her name reminded me of someone, yes, the person whom Dwain raised his voice at, yesterday over the phone.
Her hand stood in front of me, pending till she pulled it back to her thighs.
Rude right?
I didn't find pleasure in greeting strangers.
More to that, she was part of these evil people's company.
"Umm. . . Mr. Horton has an urgent meeting with some foreign investors and they will have to come out with a plan for their next projects. He won't be back until late in the evening, so he assigned me to take you shopping and deposit you at his family's Mansion."
When she spoke about the family, I thought of them.
My parents would kill me if they got to hear about this.
Did Megan even care about my whereabouts?
Did she try my number?
Shit, my mobile wasn't with me.
Every thought of mine stressed me out and I forced my thumb into my mouth.
My worry caught Jana's attention and she drowned her worried eyes in mine.
"Is everything okay? Do you need anything?"
"Your phone, I mean, please for your phone. I wish to talk to my friend and my battery is flat."
She eyed me with a questioning brow, but I ignored her stare and grabbed the phone which she slid into my hands.
"Thanks, " I mumbled and rushed to the bathroom.
I didn't even want to imagine what she would think about me.
With a cautious glance to see if Jana followed me, I dialed Megan's number into the call logs.
I knew her number by heart.
I clutched the phone to my ear and waited on Megan to respond while I fidgeted with my nails on my lips.
She took a long to pick up the call; maybe because it was a strange number and knowing her too well, she must have ignored it.
I almost gave up when of a sudden, a thick masculine voice dribbled down my eardrum and dizziness spelled his words.
"Hello, Who is on the line?"
He yawned and something shifted next to him.
Why would a male voice respond to Megan's calls?
Did she have a sleepover?
Wow, she must have brought her boyfriend home, or maybe, she slept at his place.
"Hi, it's Ellis, Megan's sister. Please, is Megan with you? I will like to talk to her."
He cursed under his breath, and the line went silent for some time.
"Ellis, whose number is this? By the way, why are you calling for me when your room is a few feet from mine?"
Oh! God, she didn't realize my absence.
What could I possibly tell her?
I didn't know how to explain my situation to her.
I pulled my lower lip into my mouth and waited, but before I could speak, she interrupted.
"Poor church girl, when Jesus turned water into wine, it wasn't for his followers to get drunk. With how drunk you were when I walked you into your room last night, I knew that something weird will happen. There you are, in one house, using a strange number to call me. Church girl, go back to bed, father will love to hear of this."