Chapter 23 BUT WHY?
Written in third person POV
The room was in complete darkness, save for the moonlight that filtered into the room, casting an eerie glow on the occupant lying down on the bed.
The windows were shut against the natural humid air from outside and the air conditioner hummed as it produced artificial air, making the room almost arctic cold.
The young man on the bed groaned as he made a move to get up, tentatively placing a hand on the side of his nose. He felt sore and battered all over, as if he had been beaten, but he knew that was not the case. Only one part of his body had taken a beaten - more like a mashing.
His mind wandered, not for the first time to what led to the state he was presently in.
He had been unconscious when he was taken to the hospital, and had woken up the next day, confused and disoriented and wondering where on earth he was, until the memories filtered at a fast pace into his mind.
The doctor had told him he had a fractured septum and he needed reconstructive surgery if he wanted to live a normal life again. Initially he had argued against it, but saw reason when he couldn't breath well and had kept bleeding through his nose for the better part of the first three days of his stay in the hospital.
His whole face was swollen, both his eyes had dark discolourations under them and he kept having severe headaches, even now, his head throbbed terribly. While he was in hospital, he had kept vomiting and when he voiced his concern, the doctor told him it was normal with cases of a fractured septum.
He was so very sick and tired of lying down in bed, day in day out and being nursed to health, all because of a broken nose.
He was a man, a young man - a young and very angry man with a score to settle.
He had been in the same position, on his back for the past one week and he was yet to get a clean bill of health, or nose as the case may be, from his doctor. Thankfully he had been discharged yesterday but with a strict warning not to do anything strenuous.
This made him even more more livid. I'm going to kill Segun Scott, the bastard! He groaned once again as he tried sitting up in bed.
He reached for his phone that lay by his bed side table. His fingers were almost there as he leaned onto his side. They grazed the edges, missing it by inches and it clattered to the floor. He almost fell out of the bed from the strain but held steady to the bed for support.
"Son... are you okay?" Mr. Faseun bounded into the room with a worried look on his face, but Dee yelped in pain as he scratched at his nose, forgetting it was still sore and tender. His father was by his side in seconds.
"I'm fine, please don't touch me." He put up his hands in a form of protest. Dark spots danced before his eyes, he felt woozy. How long am I going to keep feeling this way? He gently sank back onto the bed.
"Are you still angry at me?" He refrained from putting a hand on his son's shoulders. He knew it wouldn't go down well with him.
"No dad, I'm not angry, more like dissapointed at you."
Mr. Faseun sighed audibly and kept quiet.
"Just tell me one thing. Why? Why would you not want me to press charges against that bastard? Please just give me one damn good reason why?"
Mr. Faseun raised tired eyes to his son and sighed audibly again. "I already told you son, there's no evidence. No one saw him punch you, plus he took you to the hospital and paid for the bills so I'll say in my estimation that he has more than paid for doing this, that is, if he really did it."
"Hold on please! Are you trying to tell me you you don't believe your own son?" Dee paused, casting a disbelievingly look at his father.
Mr. Faseun shook his head, negating the question thrown at him. "I'm not saying that. All I'm saying is there's no evidence to support your claim. If anything, Segun was very patronising and..."
"See that's the word right there - patronising. He was so patronising that he beat up your own son -"
" - nose," interjected Mr. Faseun.
If he wasn't the bone of contention, he would have laughed at the absurdity of it all, instead he cast a disgusted look at his father and shook his head. "I'm over this discussion, there's no getting through to you."
Mr. Faseun sighed, yet again and began pacing. "I've made all the arrangements for you to travel to the U.S in a few days time for reconstructive surgery on your nose. It should take a few weeks for it to heal. I'd like you to stay awhile to cool off. Don't worry, you won't lack financially, I'll make sure of that. Make sure you stay with your mum and not go rogue, and do say hi to her on my behalf." He stopped pacing and walked close to his son. "This will be good for you son, I promise."
Dee looked up into his father's eyes; he was livid now, he couldn't help it. "I'm so fucking dissapointed in you right now. You make me sick, do you know that?"
"I know! But my money doesn't," came back Mr. Faseun's wise retort. "So you'll just have to suck it up and do as I tell you to."
"And if I don't?" Dee retorted, unknowingly gripping the edge of the bed.
"Look around you son - you're in my house, I set you up with my money and I lavished time and love on you."
"That's what a father is supposed to do, so you're just playing your part right, nothing special. No need to brag about it." Dee snapped.
"That may well be true, but.." Mr. Faseun sat on the edge of the bed then and continued speaking. "You've always been a very troubled young man, son. Remember when I helped you get out of a certain situation with a girl who overdosed on coke while you were both together? I had to make her disappear, along with all the traces of your finger prints too. Or should I remind you of the time when you and your friends went partying and you got so drunk and instead of getting a cab back home, you decided to go behind the wheel and in your stupid drunken haze, you killed a little baby as well as her mother. Or should I remind you of the time when ..."
"That's enough!" Snapped Dee, shaking with rage now. "You win dad, I'll be out of your hair in the next few days so don't worry." His mind travelled down roads he thought had been closed some years ago. He grimaced as he remembered his troubled past while living with his mother. All he had wanted was his father's attention and the only way he knew how to get it was by acting up and getting into scrapes.
He blamed his father for how he had turned out. Where was he during his formative years? Making money, building a legacy and making a name for himself in the corporate world, all the while ignoring his family. All he cared about was amassing wealth and gaining power. Yes his father was a very powerful man, with businesses splayed across the globe, dotted in various countries. Little wonder he was always traveling.
He suddenly wondered if he had bastard children dotted all over also. He wouldn't allow anyone share in his inheritance, he would kill anyone who tried to contest his father's property with him when the time came.
His father still didn't know that he had squandered all his trust fund on fripperies. That would be one secret he wanted kept to himself.
Mr. Faseun said nothing, just sighed and stood up. "I appreciate your understanding son." Patting him on the back, he got up and was walking off, but stopped as an after thought struck him. "On a second thought, don't come back until I tell you to."
"What! But that's not possible dad. What about my business and my friends?"
"What business, son? You and I both know you squandered all your trust fund - money I worked hard to get. Now you're broke and needy, that's why you moved back in with me. You really need to grow up and fast too, start learning the ropes of business and stop squandering your money on alcohol and prostitutes. And as for your friends..." He shrugged and continued. "You'll just have to make new one's." He smiled and walked off, leaving a bitter taste in Dee's mouth.
He should have known his father would keep tabs on him. That was his way of making sure he didn't keep disgracing him. One day monkey go go market, e no go come back.
Dee looked around for something to throw at the door but finding nothing, decided to scream instead. He screamed loudly, hitting the bed with his fists. His right hand came in contact with something hard and he looked down, wondering what it was.
It was a phone.
But... whose?
His was still on the floor where it lay unattended to. He picked it up and tapped the screen. It lit up and his father's smirking face stared at him. He must have forgotten it when he came to check on him. He was about to put it back on the bed when he noticed it was unlocked.
He grinned widely. "Oh father, I know I can't do anything to hurt your precious Segun, but you most definitely can."
He kept smiling as he clicked on his father's contacts, got out two numbers and sent text messages to them, then he leaned over the bed and slid the phone underneath it, but not before switching it off.
"Fuck you, dad!"
His smile metamorphosed into full blown laughter.












