It's Me Vs You

Chapter Five

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Fearlessness is like a muscle. I know from my own life that the more I exercise it the more natural it becomes to not let your fears run me.
                  – Arianna Huffington.

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I sprint out of the club. Unfortunately, the hungry pervert isn't willing to give up and runs after me. I get to the parking lot and hide among cars. He spots me and runs to my direction. That's when I notice an individual step out of his car. He looks decent and when I get a clear view of his face, I smile. We meet again! This is the man I met yesterday. The one who destroyed my pride and made me pick muddy naira note. He is wearing a black suit handsomely tailored, white dress shirt within and a pair of slacks. His tall figure makes him more intimidating and his face, gravely authoritative.

Nevertheless, I rush to his side and hide behind his towering body.

"Come here, my darling!" The pervert calls as he staggers to us. He hiccups and beat his chest. "It's me and you tonight".

The suit man glares at me. He grasp my arm and pushs me to the pervert. "Don't touch me!" he growls in disgust.

"Please save me!" I whine.

"Why? It's your job!" He snaps and eyes me.

"No! I'm a woman of intregrity. I am not like that. This man wants to rape me," I exclaim.

"Am I the one that said you should dress like that?" he waves me off and turn his gaze to the club.

The pervert grips my hand and pulls me towards the club. I remember the smile on my parents' face and seeing it slowly fade away forces me to grip the shirt of the suit man. As the pervert pulls, so does my grip tighten. His dress shirt rips and his buttons flies around the place. He is rendered speechless and presses his lip into a firm, thin line. A security man comes. He's huge with thick muscles and easily holds the drunk man in place. He bows and frigtenedly, apologizes to the suit man as if he was a god.

When they both leave, I am still holding onto his shirt. I meet his gaze and yelp. Why is he staring like he wants to rip me apart and shove me into a furnace?

"I'm so sorry!" I wail. "I know how to sew. Give me the dress. I'll sew the buttons back". I go down, bending my knees less than ninety degrees as I pick the buttons I can find.

"I don't need that," he takes off his suit. I gawp at how fitted his dress shirt is. I also smile as I see his biceps flex as he takes it off. He stands with only his vest on and narrow his eyes at me. His dress shirt comes flying to me when he tosses it. "You can sell the shirt after you've sewn it. I know your type. Always after money! Shameless".

"I'm not shameless," my brows snap together.

"Shameless! Gold-digger! I'm so unfortunate to have your filthy hand on me,"

"I'm not shameless!" I yell and clench my fists at my side.

He eyes me, swings his suit on his shoulder and takes steps away from me.

"Wait! Take your shirt. Since you don't want me to repair it and you are calling me shameless, take your shirt. I don't care," I bellow.

He pauses, pulls some naira notes from his pocket and extends them to me. "Take and be silent!"

I see a total of five thousand naira and gulp. This man believes money solves life problems. Well.....Who cares! I'll take it and be silent.

"Take it! I know your type! I know you want it"