34. LUKE
Chapter 34
LUKE
After the call, I know I need to leave, but I don’t want to—not after making such a big fuss about spending the day with her. I head back to sit with her. She’s still eating her sandwich.
“Much as I don’t want to leave, I have to,” I say, and I catch a fleeting look of disappointment on her face. It gives me a faint hope that she misses me, too.
“It’s okay. I doubt you’d have enjoyed pharmacology class anyway,” she says with a shrug.
“Can you come home early so we can have dinner together?” I ask softly. “I don’t like these missing-in-action stunts you keep pulling on me.”
“I’ll come home early, but I’m not pulling any stunts—just giving you space.”
“I don’t want space, Dele—” My phone pings again, interrupting me. I let out a sigh. “Come home early tonight, please,” I plead. I can’t believe I’m begging my wife to come home, but if that’s what it takes, I’ll do it.
“Okay,” she answers simply. I get up, kiss her cheek, and leave. A proper kiss doesn’t feel right at this moment. Martin looks surprised to see me back at the car so soon.
“We have to head back to the office,” I tell him, and he nods.
On the drive, my phone rings. Bruce’s name flashes on the screen.
“Hey.”
“I looked into that Floppy guy. You’re a year late. He’s dead—shot last year.”
“Are you sure it’s him?”
“Yes, I’m very sure. They never found the killer, and I doubt the police looked too hard. The guy was notorious for taking what didn’t belong to him and threatening a lot of people. Some of those threats he carried out. Word is, he messed with the daughter of a Marine. People think the father arranged to take him out, though it can’t be proven. Honestly, I think the cops were glad someone did their job for them and just closed the case.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
“I’ll send you pictures of the crime scene so you can confirm, but I’m certain it’s him.”
“Thanks, Bruce. I’m relieved as hell.”
“Talk later.”
We hang up, and I exhale deeply. Floppy is dead. I need to let Dele know—maybe she’ll relax a bit and stop living in fear of him showing up.
At work, Kevin and I dive right in. Everything that can go wrong seems to. Calls, reports, and patchy resolutions consume the day. Despite our efforts to implement temporary fixes, it looks like I’ll have to travel in a fortnight if none of the proposed solutions hold. The thought of leaving Dele so soon doesn’t sit well with me, but it’s unavoidable.
By the time I get home, it’s late. I find Dele asleep on the living room sofa. I kiss her forehead gently, and her eyes flutter open.
“You’re back?” Her voice is groggy.
“Yes, Ayo mi. Sorry I’m late.”
“Did you eat?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Okay, goodnight.” She staggers toward her room.
Minutes later, I try to check on her, but her door is locked. Fuck!