WHAT BILLIONAIRES TASTE LIKE

“Yes,” he had replied. “Besides I feel unsecured here. This is a suburb with few dwellers. One can easily be killed and buried without stress. Let’s relocate to the nearest town where there is crowd.” He drifted to her. “Crowd is a good hiding place. We will check into a hotel, come on. I got some buck.” He felt his pistol in his waist before he looked in the mirror. His disguise was still intact; the Arab woman looks. He lifted their bags, peeped through the curtain. Outside was quiet and filled with the winter wind. He looked at Opula before walking to the car.

She stared into her thighs. “Oh my world, I’m wet, Ferg.” Oh, shit, not now Auntie Uju is out to fetch the police, she had thought. “Can’t you fuck me for some seconds, even a quickie.” She had said through the window.

“Come on we are running out of time,” he had called from the car.

And that was it. Since they left they had been searching for any priest of voodoo in town. Opula recalled a handful of voodoo flowing into Miami at the time she was in Miami. But that was five years ago. She kept wondering what had informed Ferguson to change his mind about making love to her and relaxing in her arms. Isn’t he voodoo himself? What led him into thinking about voodoo at a time that would have been her breakthrough? She thought. What could be more voodoo than this?Please check at N/ôvel(D)rama.Org.

She complained after they had driven around town without getting one. “We aren’t seeing one yet, Ferg. This city isn’t good at night. We could be caught. Anything could happen to us.”

“Do you know any whore stand around?” he asked.

“What do you need them for?” she asked. Do you wanna fuck now? She thought.

“They know everything. If we can find one we’ll be done with all this stress.”

She sighed and hissed.

He wondered if it was about the sex he denied her or her auntie’s house that they left or the voodoo. Bringing ideas about their safety should give her joy. I wonder what she is up to, he thought. Bitch.

“Take your left,” she said.

“Do you want to fuck, bitch?” the whore asked. She was thick and petite. She spoke pidgin, “We get plenty plenty strong man o.”

A handful of them gathered him while Opula sat in the car watching Ferguson closely and the laptop bag that hung across his neck. He had been carrying the software any way he went. He would never know any of her plans; even the voodoo wouldn’t help him.

“What if I tell you that you can earn three thousand dollars without getting fucked,” he said to a slim tall one, eyes roving and finally looking at Opula.

“Oh you’re actually a man?” she asked straining her eyes.

“Not necessary. Answer my question.”

“Anything is possible without dick. Bring it on,” she said.

“Very simple. I need you to show me a priest of voodoo around town.” He held out the three pieces of one hundred dollars.

“Voodoo?” she said, quietened briefly and sighed. “I used to know one but it was rumored that he returned to the Caribbean.” She sighed again. “You will drive to Ochopee. The junction before Ochopee you will see a yellow upstairs on the left. If he is still in Miami he should be there.”

He handed her the money and returned to the car. “She says one stays at Ochopee,” he said to her as he got on the steering.

“Ochopee? That is much kilometers from here,” Opula said.

“We got to be there. We’ll check into a hotel when we get there. We will put a call to Mr. Ziu tonight and invite him over. By tomorrow he will be in Miami and we will sell it. In two days we should be en route Sydney. What do you think?” he asked Opula.

“Nice plan. We got to be fast about it. We ain’t got time.”

The engine came on.

I will have to phone Auntie Uju to tell the police where we are then, she thought. In few days your ass will be with police. The software will be mine.

Ferguson was bleeding on the floor; he growled and touched his side to find he was bleeding from a deep gun wound. When he looked up he was surrounded by police men with hostile faces, pointing rifles at him. He searched his waist and couldn’t find his pistol. “Opula!” he screamed and didn’t get a reply. At one moment the police disappeared and he saw Opula walking away with the software, laughing, and quickly frowning thereafter. “Opula!” he screamed. When he woke up, he was sweating on the face, breathing hard and touching his pistol. He looked at Opula and she was deep asleep. He pulled from the duvet, lit a cigar and drew a mouthful. He was catching the dream again in his head. He located Opula’s pistol, pulled out the barrel and removed the bullets. He was more scared of her than the devil now. He smoked on, staring at her and keeping watch.

Azuaka and Agu were frustrated after several try of checking on Opula at her family house. They met no one. Bang! They had stayed for over an hour when a young boy walked into the compound.

“Good afternoon, madams,” the boy greeted.

“Yes, my dear,” answered Azuaka.

The boy dimmed his eyes to have a closer look but decided to leave their presence.

“What is it?” Azuaka asked the boy, walking to him.

He paused. “Nothing ma,” the boy replied and swirled around to leave. He had recognized them.

“What are you doing here then?” Azuaka asked. He would be as friendly as possible. The young boy must have recognized them after strenuous days of hunger and worn out make up.

“Nothing. I missed my way.” He remained paused. He was striking their resemblance.

Agu brought out the pistol. Azuaka gave him the pistol to hold and not to scare the living day light out of any little brat. But Agu did what he had to do when he smelled suspicion. The lad knew something. They would be no need for Azuaka female’s voice anymore.

“We are looking for a lady you should know,” said Agu. “Her name is Opula.” He pointed the pistol at the lad. “I know you don’t want to die.”

Azuaka watched Agu closely. Agu hadn’t been so serious before. That wasn’t their plan. The gun wasn’t planned to be used carelessly. We would have many people to hide from now. What is wrong with this boy? He thought.

“It was yesterday that I overheard my mother and Auntie Uju discussing about a white man Opula came back with,” the lad shook fearfully.

They both looked at each other.

“Just that?” he asked.

“Yes, just that.”

“Where does the auntie stay?” asked Azuaka.

“She stays behind the council hall. There is a red bungalow.

“We have to kill the boy. He has recognized us,” said Azuaka.

No, he’s a lad. What does he know? When last did he listen to news?”

These days lads are no longer lads, especially in Ohio, some of them are fathers.”

He turned to the boy. “Now you mustn’t tell anybody what you just saw. Run,” ordered Agu and the boy took to his heels.

“Why did you bring out the gun, son of man? What is wrong with you?” barked Azuaka.

“The gun made it easier. The boy wouldn’t have said anything if I hadn’t threatened him.

“Now he recognized us,” said Azuaka.

“He can’t do anything. We are safe.”

“I want us to do this job peacefully and leave. The gun is meant for those assholes and not for anybody else. There are some stuff that requires brains and not guns. If it be he recognized us we will have many people to fight with.”

Azuaka brought out a cigar from his pocket to light. “It is now in our eyes. Opula connived with the punk.”

“What about Nku?”

Something serious was about to happen…hmm.