His chest pounded in his ear as he stepped closer to the mess before him. Rigid with fear, his Nigerian leather shoes made sounds on the floor as he advanced. The place was silent, a body he identified as one of his men lay still with a hole in the head. Theo stretched the flashlight at the figure before him, noticing several wounds on his body.

Blood was everywhere, it was like a madhouse, a painter's streak. The cushions, floor, curtain, and every damn object that stood in the way were streaked with blood. There were multiple foot-soles from the bloodstain and he could see there was a struggle, probably an unfair fight that later took the life of his man.

His hands shook with unsteadiness, he could hardly hold the phone tight without retching his guts out. Theo had never felt such cold dread before, it sank deep at the base of his belly, swarming his body with heavy, terrific shivers. Whatever happened from here on would be the end for him. The realization that his son had been in this mess was enough to have him in a frenzy. All along she'd plotted her revenge, played his games wisely, and somehow got into their home undetected and stole the one thing that mattered to him.

He searched the rooms, opening and closing each door that held nothing inside. He knew there were five bedrooms in the house but as he shut the second door, his panic heightened. Many questions plagued his mind.

What did the bitch do to his son?

How did she disarm and kill the guards?

Who aided her? And Where the hell is she?! He yelled in his mind as he swung a door open, and there sat his nemesis, by a corner in the dark, whimpering like a wounded puppy.

His heart somersaulted as he spotted her, her face smeared with blood, her eyes reflecting horror. Yet, what truly stunned him was the selfless manner in which she cradled his son, comforting and stroking his back. Theo stood frozen, like a deer in headlights, struck by the realization that the woman he had suspected and accused of the earlier horror was, in fact, the hero of the moment, akin to a modern-day Mother Teresa for his son.

"Please... please don't hurt us," her trembling voice cried, snapping him out of his shock. He then realized she had no idea who he was, the flashlight was blinding her eyes and she couldn't peer further through it.

He lowered the phone and knelt an inch away from her. "It's me," he said gently, with his arms spread out in a forward surrender.

"Who?... who are you?"

"It's me Theo, Theodore Newman. Jema?" He called her name, hoping to invite some form of familiarity between them and it worked because she sat up to look deeper into the darkness.

Theo helped her vision by flashing the lights on his face to enable her to see properly. At the realization of safety, Jema broke down and cried. Her shuddering startled him and his little son who jerked in her quivering arms and cried along.

Theodore was stunned, he was unsure of how to comfort the both of them. His son was crying because his nurse was in tears and there was no way Theodore knew to comfort the woman. He stretched a hand at her, unsure of where to place it, he retreated when she spoke up.

"How did you find us?" Jema asked in tears. He could see how scared she was. Her heart was heavy and she couldn't control her emotions anymore. Seeing Theodore here was the last thing she imagined would happen after she was terrorized and thrown into the nursery with the baby in hand.

He hesitated, his eyes flicked with several emotions. It was fast but Jema saw how conflicted he was, he was scared to the bone but was trying to keep it in check. "I had a hunch," he said. "Are you alright?"

"What happened?"

"Who attacked you?" He seemed to remember how to use his tongue as the questions rolled off, and his anger rose. He was staring at Jema with bloodshot eyes and a temper that could bring down the walls of Jericho.

"Please take us out of here," she begged, and that was when the heavens broke loose. A bolt of lightning struck through the sky, illuminating the darkness with sparks of light that lasted only a second. The pattering on the roof became heavier, and the wind whistled and swooshed the tree branches outside, rendering an ominous sound to the peacefulness of the home.

Quickly, he stood to his feet grabbing one of her arms, he pulled her up to a standing position. Theo saw how shuddered she looked in her robe, he pulled off his suit jacket and wrapped her in it.

"Grab what you can and meet me outside," he ordered and swung around to head for the car.

"How am I supposed to do that with the baby in my arms?" Her small voice spoke before he could step beyond the threshold. "Help me with the baby so I can grab some things!"

Theo's eyes grew larger than saucers as he stared at his crying son. He's never held a baby in his life, he's never held his son. He was too tiny and would surely slip off his hands if he tried. Before Jema could reach him, he shook his head in disapproval.

"No... no no, hold him. I'll get what you need." He said, hurriedly stepping around the nursery in search of their belongings. "What do you need?" He threw Jema a look. She gestured for a bag of clothes in the drawer, they headed for the fridge in the kitchen for the baby food and some other stuff.

"Is there an umbrella anywhere here?" Theo asked while stuffing the milk inside the bag of clothes. He looked uncomfortable doing that.

"Are you parked far away?"

"Not far but with the intensity of rain you both might get drenched before we even reach the car. It's dangerous for both of you." He warned and slung the bag on his shoulder. After contemplating for a moment he went back to the room and snatched a blanket sprawled on a chair. He went ahead to shield them with it to the car.

With all the ruckus that went down Jema only realized she was barefoot when her foot stepped on the cold wet marble in nothing but her bathrobe. It was too late to turn back, another second in that house might leave her mentally scarred for life. What she needed was safety, and that was where she was headed as the car pulled out of the driveway and into the dark stormy weather.

"Why does he cry so much?" Theo's frustrated voice said as he navigated them through the heavy rain. Baby Sam wouldn't stop crying.

"He's cold, and got interrupted from his sleep several times," she explained.

Theodore sighed. "Can't you do something about it?"

"I...never mind." She paused and instead pushed open the side of her robe allowing her voluptuous breast to escape from its barrier. Baby Sam quickly latched onto it like he's been waiting forever for it.

Theodore almost had a heart attack when his gaze fell on the breastfeeding woman beside him, he almost crashed into a tree at that moment but managed to seize control of the wheel. His joints clenched tightly on the steering as he navigated through the storm in search of a hotel, or even a motel. Anywhere comfortable and safe enough for the night.

Struggling to keep his eyes on the road, Theo couldn't wait to extricate himself from the tense situation, now and then he'd sneak a peek, his body would tremble at the sight beside him and he would internally cuss at himself for even staring.

He was quiet all the way, intermittently gulping air to steady his breath. It was such an awkward moment between them, he knew Jema was uncomfortable too but she cared little about it as she threw her face to the side while the only sound aside the heavy rain was the slurping sound made by baby Sam's dedicated suckle.

"Dammit!" An angry Theo slammed his palm on the steering, eliciting a whimper from the baby.

Jema sent a side glare at his immature behavior. "You'll wake the little boy, just keep driving up ahead. There's an intersection a few kilometers away and a motel sign will pop up."

He gave her a hard stare, "A motel?... this is ridiculous!"

"Everything happening is already ridiculous. The weather isn't getting any better and the longer we stay on the road the more prone to danger we are. Can't you see the tall trees around us..." she motioned to their surroundings in the middle of a lonely road. "If the wind pummels any of that our way, we may not survive the impact, I saw the sign post on our way here. It's just up ahead. We can't possibly find one of your posh five star hotels at this point."

Theodore, unused to taking instructions, begrudgingly fired up the engines and drove through the storm, up ahead as she had directed. They got to the intersection and true to her words a motel sign post was by the corner. Theodore took the road leading up to a small neon lighted house with large enough parking space at the front.

He killed the engines and looked towards Jema for more resources. "Are you alright?" He gestured to the sleeping boy in her arms and the grimace tainting her face.

"My arms are killing me, it's not everyday I get to carry a mass of seven kg for hours straight, but I'll live." She managed a fake smile.

"I'll get us rooms, stay here until I come back." And he shut the door behind him. Jema watched the rain batter on his white shirt, wetting the thin fabric to his skin, even his hasty movements didn't save him from the angry rain.

The only available room had two separate beds and a tiny bathroom. Theo was livid at the amount he had to pay to purchase such luxury as they termed it.
He grumbled throughout the way and only stopped when Jema couldn't have it with him anymore.

"They almost killed your son and I!" She started behind him as he let open the door for them. "You don't seem fazed enough by that because tell me why in the name of God does it matter so much to you the amount paid for safety? Why it's got your pants in a twist?" Her furious eyes set him off balance.

"I'm not angry at that," he denied.

"You better not be!" She rebuked and stretched the baby towards him. "Hold him for me, I need to clean up."

Again, Theo failed to want to carry his son. Rather he stared at the sleepy child like he was some sort of danger to him.

"I've never held a baby before,"

"I don't care if you had the whole silver spoon shoved up your ass, I'm fucking bleeding from my shoulder and I need to get it cleaned else I'll lose an arm." She forced baby Sam into his fathers arms before her trembling ones would give way. The way Theo held him—funny and nothing proper about a child's leg dangling from below.

At this point Jema was aching all over and needed some relief. "Don't drop him!" She hissed. "And don't dare sit on the couch or he'll tear down the roof with his shrill cries. Just keep standing and would you hold him properly!" She lectured in a mean voice.
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NB: The ever-so-famous Italian leather which is known as the most superior of all leathers is actually made in Nigeria 🇳🇬
Mostly the northern part, and for a long time it has been exported, refurbished, and resold to us as foreign. But a while ago our craftsmen had enough of undermining our products and skills and demanded we receive acknowledgement for what's ours.

Instead of the name to be tagged Nigerian (African made) the European companies would rather call it genuine leather. 😒

Now this is me enlightening more people and myself on how much Africa (Nigeria 🇳🇬) gives to the world but never gets recognized for it.

Your famous Italian leather, chocolates etc are indeed AFRICAN MADE🌍🌍🇿🇦🇰🇪🇳🇬