Hard Man

34

"The General is coming, Ali."
    — The Boss

"I need my wits around me to concentrate on my work, but I can't do that if you're upset with me."
— General Babalola.

The smell of soup and chicken wafted up Des' nostrils, softly pulling her out from the realm of sleep and into consciousness. She wrinkled her nose, and confusion registered in her brain as she awoke completely. When she opened her eyes, she gasped, shocked at meeting Babalola's gaze head-on.

He was crouching beside her, staring with an unreadable expression. Des scrambled back in bewilderment, and her gaze fell on the tray of food beside her pillow. Her stomach rumbled angrily.

"Eat." Babalola nodded at the plate.

Des got over her shock at seeing him and slid toward the tray. "Where did you get this?"

The General frowned. "The kitchen."

Her mouth watered as her gaze skimmed over the rice, the delicious-looking stew, and the chicken. Ade was a good cook, so she knew she was in for a treat. "Thank you."

Instead of responding, he rose to his feet, unfurling to his full height. That was when Des noticed that he was dressed, a little casually nevertheless. Her gaze swept down his denim-clad legs, up to the back leather jacket he wore over a black tee.

"Where are you going?"

"Out," he said, pursing his lips.

Her mouth parted on a sharp exhale as her gaze fell on the overhead clock. "It's barely six am."

"What has that got to do with anything?"

She clamped her mouth shut, hating his coldness when he had been sweet to her last night. "I see you're back to being an asshole." A deep slash of anger heated her blood when he didn't react to her insult. She hated this hot and cold. If he would rather be hot, then he should stay hot.

After another silent moment, he dipped his hand into his pocket and withdrew a phone. "Here." He threw the phone onto the bed. "If you need me, call me."

Her brows dipped in confusion momentarily before she remembered he needed her phone to check for any tracker. "When do I get my phone?"

"Tonight." His gaze lingered on her for another moment before he turned and left the room.

***
Mohammed saluted the General as soon as he left Des' room. There was fury in the General's eyes, but what else is new?

"Where's Damola?"

"Downstairs, sir."

They reached the ground floor in seconds. The MG was standing at the doorway, his arms folded behind him. He watched the General approach with calm. "Are you a little calmer this morning?" The MG asked.

"No."

Without another word, the MG turned to leave the house. Mohammed followed the men into the compound, where a vehicle awaited the General's command. The MG got in, and the General followed. Mohammed hesitated, but a dark look from both men had him scrambling into the vehicle. A partition separated the driver's side from the backseat, and the General rapped on it to get the driver started. The car lurched forward.

The seats were in two rows, designed so the passengers sat facing each other. Mohammed sat beside his boss while the MG was sprawled on the opposite seat, watching the General with thoughtful eyes.

"How's your woman?" He asked after a few quiet minutes.

Mohammed sighed. It's obvious the General wasn't in a good mood, but trust the MG to prod him until he exploded. Mohammed didn't wish to be in the vehicle when that happened. When the General didn't respond, the MG nudged him with a foot. "I'm talking to you."