As we journeyed into Grillo’s, I felt an overwhelming urge to confess my feelings to Mrs. Afua, to unburden my heart about Kwame. But Tunde’s captivating gaze held me entranced, his eyes aglow with a deep affection that I couldn’t resist. The stop sign was suddenly upon us leading me to halt the car with a sudden jolt.

“We’ve arrived,” I announced, my voice barely above a whisper.

Mrs. Afua threw a glance of worry my way, “Should we stay here?” she asked.

I was lost amidst the chaos that ensued within me. I sped away, my heels clicking against the pavement as I rushed towards Grillo’s entrance. Tunde’s cries to slow me down fell on deaf ears for I burst through the creaking door, the sound echoing through the darkness like a mournful sigh.

“Maria!” I called out, a ringing sound that went through the desolate space. The door responded instead revealing a tableau of despair in Tunde.

There she sat in a corner, her eyes vacant with a silent plea for us to depart.

I then addressed her by her alternate name, “Ashante Is that you?”

 

She nodded, her gaze warning and waning.

The darkness was oppressive punctuated only by the faint sound of Mrs. Afua’s fumbling for the light switch.

“Good gracious”, she said as everything flickered to life.

A terrifying scene then unfolded before us. Tunde stood frozen, a knife lodged in his shoulder, courtesy of Kwame Afua’s malice.

“Tunde!” I screamed, my entire self hoarse with terror.

Kwame’s eyes gleamed with a feral intensity as he advanced towards me, the knife now pressed against my throat.

“Take a step Tunde, I dare you!” he taunted as his legs moved with reckless speed.

My boyfriend’s pain-wracked face twisted in anguish, his anger tempered by the desperation in my eyes. He remained still though for Kwame’s blade bit deeper into my skin.

“Kwame!” his mother shouted as if the very foundations of her world had been shattered. “Please drop the knife.”

“Maa,” he countered. “She must die.”

This was evidently backed up by the faint trickle of blood that flowed down my throat.

Maria slurred by intoxication pleaded as well with him to desist but I sought to reassure her, my voice steady and calm.

“He won’t kill me, he won’t want to kill the one he loves right Kwams?” I asked attempting to reason with him.

Kwame’s gaze wavered, a resolve faltering for an instant but his mother’s anguished cries and supplications undid my efforts. She knelt before us, her body wracked with tears. More Also, she crawled towards her son begging him to spare my life.

Oblivious to the unfolding drama, Maria remained inert, her inebriation rendering her incapable of comprehension. Little did she know that Kwame had followed her from the station, evading the police grasp with cunning and stealth.

The sirens now audible in the distance had tracked him, their approach cautious and deliberate.

“Kwame” I whispered, seeking to distract my captor “If you kill me, you can’t have me.”

He pulled me back brutally, his grip tightening as he hissed, “Silence!”

I signalled to Tunde, his face etched with pain and concern that I remained unharmed but the police presence outside Grillo’s grew more pronounced.

“Tell them to back down” Kwame whispered urgently in my ear but I pretended not to fathom.

“Who?” I asked, stalling for time.

His patience wore thin as wrath grew in his voice.

“Do not play games with me Joanne. The police will pick out two dead bodies from here.”

 

“Nobody is playing games here Kwame”, Tunde declared, his voice determined as he rose to his feet. A fresh surge of blood immediately gushed from his shoulder wound. “I snatched her from you Afua. Let us settle this as men, you rascal.”

Mrs. Afua’s entreaties continued but the police insistent shouts left Kwame little room for deliberation.

“Maa,” he exclaimed pushing me away from him. “It’s Tunde’s fault!”

“Wait what?”, I sprang to my feet but my cry of dismay was drowned out by the chaos.

Maria in a drunken haze lunged at Kwame who aimed for Tunde but the knife found its mark in her side.

“No!” I fell to my knees aghast watching my best friend’s eyes roll back in a dizzying spin.

“C-Note,” she slurred, her voice barely audible.

I immediately tried to steady her, careful not to exacerbate the wound.

Tunde, meanwhile grappled with Kwame, his strength waning from the second stab wound. Mrs. Afua rushed to his aid but Kwame callously shoved her aside using her as a distraction for his escape. “Leave me be Maa!” he snarled pushing her to the ground with a vicious thrust.

Just as he thought he made a break for the backdoor, C-Note burst into the scene, his eyes blazing with unholy anger.

“Ah waste of my time”, he sneered before landing a resounding punch on Kwame’s jaw.