Andrew watched as Victor entered into the house, his dreads bouncing behind his head.
“He’s asleep in the garage.” Victor told him.
Asleep meant knocked out.
“Are you sure he was following King?” Victor asked, plopping unto a red cushion, his leg going to rest on the long sofa Ken, nicknamed Leprosy and Jack sat.
“Yeah.” Leprosy affirmed, “Even King caught on and he tried to lose him. I noticed him right from when King left here. He didn’t look suspicious at first until I saw him enter a black car when King got into a cab and the car started trailing King.”
“So he knows about us.” He, Andrew stated.
“Probably. If he does, we'll just be King’s acquaintances.” Jack answered.
The room fell silent then Victor spoke up.
“Jack, continue your work at school; Leprosy and Cody, deal with the man when he wakes; Andrew, Jamal mustn’t leave your watch. I will keep watch at Joan's house until King leaves there. That’s the order for now.”
“Yes boss.”
Joan stood with King in front of her mother who was seated on the couch in the living room, hands folded, staring intently at them. She just returned from her outing.
“What is it this time?” Mrs. Michaels asked, “It’s past 7, King should be on his way now.”
She blinked innocently, wringing her hands, sneaking a glance at King who was still.
“That’s what we want to talk to you about…” she started carefully.
“If it’s for him to stay, no.” Mrs. Michaels interrupted.
“Mum, please. He hasn’t slept over in a while.” She pleaded.
Mrs. Michaels huffed, staring at them.
“Ok.” She finally said.
“Ok?”
“Ok. King can stay.”
“In the guest room.” Mrs. Michaels added.
She squealed, jumping on her and hugging her tight.
“Thank you… thank you… thank you…”
She watched as her mother went up the stairs, the corners of her lips stretched out high. She turned back to King and her smile dropped at his countenance.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, despite already knowing.
“She didn’t look at me, not even once.”
She looked down at her feet, feeling guilty.
“It’s fine.” He said but his tone betrayed him. She looked up to see him already moving towards the stairs.
“At least she let me stay.” He added.
She stood up, following after him.
“I'm sorry.”
“It’s fine.” He repeated.
“You like the room?”
King raised the arm over his eyes and looked at her from the bed of the guest room where he lay on his back, his right leg raised up. She was leaned against the door.
“Yeah. It’s nice.”
She entered fully into the room, shutting the door behind her.
“You don’t sound nice.” She commented.
“If it’s about my mum, don’t worry, she'll come around.”
“I would have believed that if you had told me five years ago.”
His arm went back over his eyes. She moved to the bed and lay beside him.
“I know you’re wondering why I don’t want to tell her.”
“Its not…” he sighed, “Fine, I’m wondering.”
“I’m not going to tell you my reasons now.”
His arm came off again and blue eyes stared piercingly at her.
“I have my reasons for that but I promise you that when the time is right, I will definitely let you know.”
“I trust you.” Was his reply.
She smiled satisfactorily, “I trust you too.”
She leaned over and gave him a peck on his forehead then got up and saunteredd back to the door aware of his questioning gaze boring holes in her back. She had never done that before.
“Be awake and ready by 6. We're going to church.” She said, not looking back then she marched confidently out of his room.
“Do I have to wear a suit?”
"No."
Two minutes later...
“Do I have to wear a tie?”
“No… How would you wear a tie on a hoodie!? … And don’t wear that hoodie!?”
Three minutes later…
“Do I have to wear a corporate wear?”
“No.”
“Casual?”
“King, church clothes.”
Four minutes later…
“Church clothes?”
“King! If you wear those clothes and follow me, I’ll disown you!”
Five minutes later…
“Joan, I don’t have clothes to wear to church.”
Joan glared up at King.
“You would have said that from the very beginning and not waste my time!”
“Joan, keep it down!”
“Sorry, mum!”
“But you know I barely keep any clothes in your house.” King grumbled.
She glared at him again then took a bag from her wardrobe and threw it to him.
“Wear those. I got them as gifts for you, I wasn’t planning on giving you yet but as it’s needed…”
“Uh… my birthday isn’t in another four months.”
“Can’t I get gifts for you without it being your birthday?”
“Ok.”
He turned and walked out of her room. If looks were lasers, his back would have burnt through.
“He couldn’t even say a thank you.” She grumbled, flinging a dress she just brought out of her wardrobe haphazardly.
“Thank you!” she heard him shout. Her anger dissipated and her lips curled up in response.