The next Friday morning, almost a week after our kidnapping stint, I was up early with anticipation fueling my drive to complete a morning routine. After thirty minutes of scrubbing and plucking at my face, I was satisfied enough to move onto a thirty-minute shower during which I tried to directly steam off any imperfections from my flesh with hot water. Hot water had always been my way of relaxing, and somehow I was reminded of how Claire used to scream when she used the shower after me. I let Sunshine work her magic on my face. Today, my presentation had to be flawless. I blasted my bad bitch playlist in the car and allowed myself to get lost in the voices of the female trendsetters as I drove to the hospital.
As per Sunshine's recommendation, I wore a tight little black dress and a black leather jacket with a fur collar. My black boots that came up to my mid-thigh tried their best to cover my skin but did not reach the hem of my mini-dress. Everything was black save for my silky, straight, flaming red, thirty-six-inch wig that deserved a moment of its own. I caught my reflection in the glass window, and I immediately felt better. I could fault my mother for a lot of things, but her genes were not one of them. Her Nilotic heritage had blessed both of us with exquisite curves that were awe-inspiring. After Claire's demise, I had lost interest in my physical appearance, however, revenge ought to be served flamboyantly, and god forbid I was lacking in any way.
I strolled into the hospital, head held high, and the three men probably thought they had somehow survived the ordeal. We had released them, but only to enter the second phase of my revenge. All those years I had spent screaming myself awake from nightmares in which they stared could not be erased in less than a week. The receptionist directed me to their rooms, accepting my family friend's excuse. They had been placed in the same room, most likely at their parents' behest, an attempt to keep their precious sons safe while avoiding scandal. Just like all of the people my brother associated with, his friends were the sons of affluent businessmen and women, who had compensated for their absence with money. They were probably aware of their son's misdeeds but did not care enough to reprimand them. No matter, I would teach discipline to their kids on their behalf.
Just as expected, there was no one in the room visiting, given that it was a Friday morning. The three musketeers were fast asleep, one of them rolling onto his side. I was always terrible with names and faces, and although I could never forget their faces, I refused to learn their names. They were simply the stars of my nightmares, and it would only be fair to return the favor. I pulled up a chair to the middle of the room and sat facing them before pulling out my phone; seconds later, Shepard's tone spilled into the silent room. The reaction of the sleeping beauties was instant; one second they were peacefully sleeping, and the next they either crouched or curled up in their beds. Their wide eyes infused with terror made my entire day. All the machines in the room began beeping, prompting nurses to barge into the room, but not before I silenced my phone.
"They all have a spike in their blood pressure and heart rate."
"Is that urine?"
"He is having trouble breathing! Where is the doctor?"
"He has already been paged. He is sweating, but his temperature is normal."
The door swung open, and a doctor, judging by his coat and stethoscope, walked in. He immediately zeroed in on me, unlike the frantic nurses. He lifted a brow in confusion and would have said something, but one of the nurses called out to him. He took a second to look at the still beeping monitors before looking over to his curled-up and panicking patients. He looked at me again, and I stared back from the corner I had squeezed into. His lingering gaze caused one of the nurses to finally notice me.
"What did you do?" The doctor asked, walking slowly towards me, completely ignoring his patients.
"Shouldn't you look after them first? I haven't been here long enough to do anything to them. I was just sitting down when my phone rang, and they started panicking."
There was something about the way he could immediately tell that I was somehow responsible for their sudden reaction that had me telling the truth. My phone did ring even though it wasn't from receiving a call. It was also true that I had only been in the room for less than three minutes before hell broke loose. The doctor looked at me, skeptical, but one of the nurses confirmed my story. He stared me down for a few more seconds, but the constantly beeping monitor and hyperventilating patients drew his attention long enough for me to slip out of the room. If he had turned his attention to me, he might have made the connection linking my half-excuse to their panic. Given how they woke up, I seriously doubted that any of the rats properly saw my face, which worked in my favor.
I quickly walked out of the cold hospital and into the warm sun, pausing for a moment to soak in the rays. In a few more hours, its heat would be unbearable, just like most things in life; timing was key. Cranking up the volume, I drove out carefully not to draw unnecessary attention. If the doctor was indeed suspicious, it would not look great for me to peel out of the hospital. Thankfully, there were no cameras in hospital rooms, and hopefully, he would have several more emergencies and forget about me.
Half an hour later, I pulled into Brian's office parking lot. I took a few minutes to touch up my makeup before walking up to the elevator just in time to catch Brian's CEO. I pretended not to notice who he was, opting instead to focus on my phone. There were a few seconds of silence in the elevator before the CEO turned to me, arm outstretched. I slowly turned towards him, whipping my hair back, I looked at his outstretched hands, frowning before fluttering my eyelash extensions, and finally settled on his eyes. I tilted my head slightly, eyes now wide open, hoping it emphasized my confusion. He took the bait, letting out a guttural laugh that made me wish he would choke on his tongue.
"We didn't get a chance to meet at your brother's party, did we? My name is Joseph Kamau I am the CEO of this company. Your brother calls me boss, but you call me Jose."
It took every ounce of self-control I had to not sock the leering man in the face; I instead accepted his hand graciously with a smile. Of course, I knew who he was; who in this country didn't? Joseph came from a humble background. After putting himself through university, he graduated with a first-class degree from the University of Nairobi's law school. He passed the bar exam with outstanding results and was recognized country-wide, which opened many doors for him. He worked hard on his career, and finally, after thirty years, he landed a position as one of the Supreme Court judges. Now retired, he owned one of the best law firms in the country, and his firm was always at the forefront of every high-profile case in the country.
The seventy-one-year-old was also a well-known philanderer with a taste for young girls from middle-class families. He preferred girls younger than his daughters, a fact that he did nothing to refute. I widened my smile and tucked my hair behind my ear with the tip of my index nail. Sunshine had insisted on putting stick-on nails that were a little over an inch long, something I would never ordinarily wear given their impracticality. I bit my lower lip, letting it slowly slide out from between my teeth.
"Oh right! Mr. Joseph, so sorry I did not recognize you. I have seen you in the national gazette once or twice."
"You read the paper?"
"Of course, I do! Nothing beats reading the paper in the morning. A the very least, printed publications carry more facts than articles posted online." I lied through my teeth, knowing fully well I couldn't remember the last time I held a newspaper, let alone read one.
"That is what I have been saying, these online publications report nothing more than hearsay," he beamed at me, revealing his browning teeth, and I had to suppress a shudder.
"My name is Melissa," I said, my voice a pitch higher than it normally was.
The elevator finally stopped, and I practically raced out of the cab, eager to put some distance between us. Today's agenda was to establish some rapport with the man and ensure that I was in his sight. I had stayed up for nearly two days learning everything I could about the man. Apart from his promiscuity, he had revealed in an older interview that he only went to his office three days a week from eleven to one. It was more of a ritual, and it was something he intended to do until he could no longer walk. The geezer had shown up exactly on time, which, given his age, was rather impressive. We would have other chance encounters in the coming month, I had achieved my goal for the day.
I walked around for a few minutes before spotting an office with my brother's name. He had a corner office on the eighth floor, which was reserved for partners of the firm. I pushed the door open and had the displeasure of walking in on my brother with his pants around his ankles. The girl that had been choking on his penis rushed past me mortified. Brian quickly pulled up his pants and walked towards me, a thunderous look masking his face. As soon as he was close enough, I widened my stance, slightly twisted my body, before redirecting my fist straight into his stomach and had the pleasure of watching him stagger back. He tried to use his desk for support, but miscalculated the distance, causing him to crash on the floor, still clutching onto his stomach, gasping for breath. I gave him a minute to catch his breath, I needed him to listen to what I had to say.
"Sorry about that, your face looked threatening and I had to defend myself, I hope you understand." He tried to grab me, but he again misjudged the distance, causing his hands to fall uselessly beside him.
"You should go visit your friends, apologize on my behalf. I couldn't stay and chat on account of them forgetting to breathe. I guess that is something you are all struggling with. Honestly, just take a deep breath in and out, it's not like you died."
I watched his straining face go slack with an emotion I could not identify, nor did I want to. His change in demeanor meant that he did remember the words he had said to me as I lay hyperventilating after being assaulted. As I lay in the hospital after the ordeal, his words had stung just as much as the assault, but that's all I had done; breathed in and out.