ANOTHER BLOW

It's morning at long last. Then the better, I guess.

I stretch myself on this extremely comfortable bed. It's ironic to sleep on such a comfortable bed in a huge, clean room like this one, and yet you spend the whole night tossing and turning, thinking and thinking until dawn. Life, huh! My freaking life!

It's six in the morning, and since I am doing nothing on this bed, I decide to abandon it. I walk to the bathroom and take a shower, then change. Do you remember the clothes that Deep refused to return to me back in Mombasa? Well, it seems fate had a good reason for his mischief. I don't know if anyone is up yet, but I can't sulk in this room anymore. I don't even have time to sulk, because time is not on my side. I need to act fast before something else terrible slaps me. I am even afraid of opening the internet because I know it's Gia Wilson and the massacre that happened yesterday trending all over.

I will avenge their deaths, one way or another, and that is my solemn vow.

We didn't talk much last night because Deep and I decided to give the lovebirds some time to catch up and put their emotions together. Their story is quite touching, and I pray to the heavenly beings that their sacrifices will pay off in the end. They both decided to let go of each other to protect each other. Indefinitely, they waited, hope being the only thing that pushed them to fight to live each passing day—the hope that fate would bring them back together again. Now that fate has shone it's bright light on them, I hope nothing will be cruel enough to separate them again.

Before we left them last night, we agreed to meet up here this morning to put our heads together and come up with a plan to finish Ejay once and for all. Knowing Ejay and how he works, I am more afraid that he might already be a step ahead of us. Or, better yet, miles ahead. He isn't the most elated drag lord of all for nothing. He is a cunning devil, and that alone scares me to death.

Walking down the long staircase, I spot two gentlemen in the living room: Deep and Paul. However, their pacing back and forth and the phones on their ears give me a very bad chill, almost freezing me in my tracks, but I push myself forward. They both notice me, and they both stop talking, ending their mysterious, suspicious calls with an "I will call you back." Who are they kidding? It's obvious that whatever they were on the phone about involves me.

"The truth. What's going on?" I ask, standing in front of them. "What happ..." a voice from the 52-inch television diverted my attention.

"A day after the massacre at the Kisumu show during Gia Wilson's performance, who reappeared two months ago after her mysterious disappearance right after her album launch four months ago, a bombing incident has happened in one of Azzua's luxurious hotels in the city at Westlands, where five people have lost their lives and an identified number of casualties as of now are being rushed to the hospital. The reason and the responsible perpetrators for the bombing incident are yet to be identified. However, it has been confirmed that Gia Wilsons stayed in this same hotel for a week, and she only left the hotel on Friday, the day before yesterday, to attend the Kisumu show, which turned out to be a massacre, leaving fifteen people dead and more than a hundred casualties. It has further been confirmed that the only son of Mr. Azzua, the young billionaire who is also the owner of the Azzua international private airline, Mr. Deep Moore Azzua, was the one who saved Gia Wilsons yesterday in Kisumu. He was also spotted with her a week ago in Mombasa. The relationship between this bombing incident and what happened in Kisumu is yet to be confirmed. The big question is: could these two incidents be connected? Are they linked to Gia Wilson? Could there be someone out there trying to get her? For more developments, stay tuned.

I collapse to the couch, too weak to stand. My fears just came to pass. The future is miles ahead of our plans. Another soul suffered because of me. I would be a stupid fool not to connect the dots. This isn't an accident. This is a message. This is Ejay's way of telling me that he will destroy everything around me until I stop these cheap games I am playing with him. It is his way of communicating his anger and how ruthless he can be. This is what I was fucking afraid of.

"Relax, Gia. The police are on top of it." Paul says.

"And don't beat yourself over it. None of all these is your fault." Deep says.

"In what angle isn't all this my fault, Deep? All the lives lost, all the casualties, the loss you and your family have incurred, your name in the spotlight, and your endangered lives—they are all because of me. Me, Deep. And this is what I didn't want. I warned you, remember?" I cried out loud.

"The only person responsible is Ejay. And I am going to make him pay for every single thing. Stay here. We will head out with Paul." Deep said, cupping my face.

They still don't get it, do they? "I am coming with you." I say the moment they turn to leave, and they say it to me again.

"Come on, Gia. Just listen to us. For all we know, Ejay could be outside this gate waiting to spot you. Allow us to protect you, and we promise, we will find Ejay." Paul says that at the same time, Mayleen joins us.

"Paul is right, Gia. It's too risky out there for you." She says.

"Why are you all turning a blind eye? Come on! I know you all are wiser than this. There is no investigation needed. There is no mystery here, because I am that mystery. I am the one that Ejay wants. And in case it hasn't sunk into your heads, he has just started. He is not going to spare anyone until he gets his hands on me." I cry out, hoping they understand.

"And you expect us to just give you to him like we don't care?" Deep shouts.

"THAT IS THE ONLY WAY!" I yell back. "Stop this caring nonsense and let me do the right thing, for everyone's sake!" I finish yelling like a psycho-brat. Silence fills the whole room, with Paul and Mayleen looking at each other. Deeply running his hands through his messy, soft hair, fuming with anger

I feel bad for yelling at him like that after everything he has done for me. I understand he cares, but I can't hold this any longer. Ejay needs to be stopped ASAP!

"The more I delay this, the more people will get dragged into this mess, and the more people are going to suffer. I beg you all to understand me. This load is too heavy for me. I can't bear it anymore." Deep walks to me.

At least he isn't fuming as much. "I understand you, Gia. Don't ever think I don't understand. But can you please not ask me to not care? It hurts, Gia. So much. I am not an animal, you know? And you can't blame me for feeling this way because I have my reasons."

"I am sorry. I didn't mean to sound so offensive." I cupped his face. If the situation were different, I would spend minutes looking at his beautiful dominant eyes, running fingers through his perfect jaws, or, better yet, staring at his moist pink lips. But being charmed and consumed by his beauty won't help in this situation. Maybe, just maybe, I will have the pleasure to do that some other time, some other day, when this is all over. I look into his eyes. "These deaths, these insecurities, these damages, and these destructions will not end until Ejay gets what he wants. I am the only one who can stop this madness. Let me do this, Deep. I promise, I won't give him the satisfaction to kill me. I will be the one to finish him off." I plead.

"Before we get to that point, I think I have a better plan. No innocent person is going to suffer, that I can promise. And if this plan fails, Gia, we will then do it your way. But I hope you know the risks you will be taking. You have toyed with Ejay. You have absolutely no idea what he has planned for you the moment he lays his hands on you." Paul says, and Deep has murdered him a thousand times with his eyes.

"I will bear anything, just to put an end to this. But like I said, I won't give him the pleasure of killing me. The pleasure will be mine to see his downfall." Even if it means killing him myself, I won't even blink while pulling the trigger, because jail is not enough for a monster like him. “What’s your plan, Paul?” I ask as we all turn to him.