***
For Sting, pushing drugs wasn't just a means to an end. He was a graduate of Yaba College and had better grades than most of his peers in society. He had never been destitute or so in need of cash like most people in the business claimed to have been once upon a time in their lives. He'd been born to middle class parents, but hadn't fit in with their idea of society. Moreover, patience and contentment hadn't been his strong suits. He revolted against their authority too many times to count and hadn't surprised anyone when he chose to be an outlaw. His father had disowned him eventually.
It was less about the money and more about his disregard off society's norms. As a teenage kid, he had always taken joy in breaking the rules. He'd begun with holding up a convenient store with a ski mask and a loaded pistol. With time, he'd met other ruffians and gotten himself from bad to worse - he'd sold Indian hemp on Yaba campus, moved bags across state lines, put up a fashion modeling agency that actually provided escort services for clients. He hated attention and enjoyed the allure of roaming freely with a kilo or two in his bag and his favorite .44 in his pants knowing he had the lion's share in anything illegal going on around. Yet Sting had never seen the inside of a prison cell. One of the first things he'd learned was that most policemen were only brutal because they were hungry. They didn't give a rat's ass about the law, and if you fed that hunger regularly, they got a lot friendlier. Thus, even the commissioner of police and his immediate circle were in Sting's very deep pockets.
His cousin and aide-de-camp, Spencer was not yet back from the errand to the girls' lodge but Sting felt good about roaming alone. He paused to pat his side bag as he walked towards the cashier's counter pushing his shopping cart. The shelves and compartments in the shopping mart were fully stacked with groceries and Sting's cart contained all he came to pick that morning. Sting was the only client in the supermarket - a drug dealer shopping for groceries like normal people without back up even though he was in his neighborhood.
"Oga, good morning," greeted the sole attendant who was mopping the front part of the shop. She hurried behind the counter and took out a calculator while Sting offloaded his trolley. The attendant calculates his purchase and puts them in shopping bags. "It's five thousand, three hundred naira sir."
A man wearing sunshades walked into the supermarket - a bulk of a man, his muscular frame hidden beneath his tight cashmere and jeans. He was talking to someone over the phone in low tones. A tiny alarm went off in Sting's head. His sixth sense was suddenly awake - those instincts that had brought him this far. He was sure he knew four-eyes from somewhere. He watched four-eyes till he disappeared among the shelves from the corner of his eyes. Sting smiled at the shop attendant as he reached for his wallet. "Have you ever seen that man before?" Sting asked, as casual as he could.
"No," She replied after looking up in four-eyes' direction. Sting handed her some cash while she hands him the shopping bags.
"Thanks, and keep the balance. See you later." He takes his shopping bags and walks out of the supermarket frowning. He knew that Johnny's body would've been found by his loyalists by now. His beef with Johnny wasn't a secret and he knew he'd be the usual suspect. A lot was about to change.
***
The Mercedes convertible slowed to join a queue along traffic. The red light was up and Banks was behind the wheels. Andy looked up from a celebrity magazine he was reading. He frowned at the line of cars in front of them and looked at his wrist-watch. Banks' Iphone 5 buzzed. He took the phone out of his pocket and read the message. He chuckled as he put the phone on the dashboard.
"It's Jennifer... says she's in school with Chika and wants to know where we are." Banks read.
"That reminds me. You drove Jennifer home last night." Andy said smiling suggestively.
Banks laughed. "I was wondering how long till you bring it up. The script just seemed like something you conceived."
Andy closed his magazine. "So, what happened?" He cast his net straight up. Banks grinned at him. "You don't know already?"
Banks had his entire attention now. "No! Why would you assume...?" Andy said taking off his reading glasses.
"Nothing," Banks replied, keeping his eyes on the road.
"Okay, you don't sound like it was just nothing. Did you even go to first base with her?"
"Well, I thought she'd mention it to her cousin who wouldn't waste time to tell you all about it."
"Tell me all about what! Did you two do anything... worth mentioning?" Andy inquired. He loved a good love story.