The Alpha in my Pool

CHAPTER FOUR - THE STRANGER IN MY POOL.

TWO WEEKS AND A DAY LATER

10:00 PM

KEHINDE

I jump into my bed and let myself sink into the mattress. I don’t even bother to unpack my bags. My mind is still churning over the leftover euphoria. I would never admit it to Bibi but she was right. I feel better. My fears about attending the festival without Grandma were alleviated. I feel her presence even more now; like a warm blanket wrapped around my very soul. A thought flashes through my mind but I dismiss it. I might have survived the festival without her but I don’t think I’d survive living alone in the house, our house alone. I’m not over all my fears. I sigh. The festival was amazing but now I have to go back to my very boring and lifeless life. I turn over in my bed to lie face down as I reach behind my back to release myself from the shackles of my minimizer bra. I toss it away and let out a loud yawn. My eyelids are heavy with sleep. They’re just about to close when I hear a splash. I freeze. My whole body becomes rigid with tension. I slowly get up from my face-down position on the bed and sit. I wait. Maybe I was just hearing things—another splash. My breathing turns shallow. I breathe deeply, trying to calm myself. Another splash. It sounds like it’s coming from the backyard. I get up from my bed. I start toward the dark hallway and my heart immediately goes into overdrive. Wonderful. Exactly what a woman living alone wants to hear at midnight: mysterious noises. I pause and go back to my room. I reach into the umbrella stand beside the door. My hands search for an umbrella but there’s none. No umbrella. No umbrella. No umbrella. f**k. Wait. A broom. My mind tells me cleaning equipment isn’t really a great self-defence tool but I grab it anyway. My legs are slowly turning to jelly but I force them to move. My grandma didn’t raise a coward. Another splash. This time louder than the previous ones. I tighten my grip on the broom as I walk toward the backyard with slow and shaky steps.

“Hello?” I shout.

“I don’t know who you are but you should know that I am armed. I have a gun and I know how to use it.”, I say with a shaky voice.

Nobody responds. Total silence. I swallow and pause. Then I immediately start to regret every decision that has led me to this moment. I decide to go back to bed and pretend like I heard nothing. All the doors and windows are locked, anyway. Another splash. f**k. I hold the broom in front of me like a spear. The glass doors leading to the backyard are slightly ajar. How and why are they open? I don’t remember leaving them open. I double-locked and double-checked everything before I left. Panic crawls up my spine, and the thought that I might die tonight flashes through my mind. The curtains dance with the night breeze. Making things look eerier than they already are. My pulse hammers. Another splash. It’s coming from the pool. The pool I totally forgot I have. Another splash. I flinch. Definitely the pool. I push the door open, and what I see makes me stop. For a second, my brain completely shuts down. Because there is a strange figure floating in the pool. I can’t make out what it is from where I’m standing. I take two careful steps toward the pool and that’s when I see him. A very large man. Floating face-down among the debris. My eyes widen.

“Oh my God.”, I gasp.

The broom hits the ground. I run. Not out of bravery, but because right now, panic has temporarily disabled my common sense. I reach the edge of the pool and look down. The man isn’t moving. He has dark hair. Broad shoulders. His clothes are completely soaked. One of his muscular arms floats near the surface. A tattoo disappears beneath the water. My stomach drops. What if he’s dead? Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. There’s a corpse in my swimming pool. No. No. No. I can’t go to jail. I won’t last a day in jail. I crouch down and poke the body with my finger.

“Hello? Oga?”

Nothing.

I lean closer. “Sir?”

Still nothing. I bite back a moan. I know you’re thinking Kenny, just call the police. I can’t. This is Nigeria. Things work differently here. They won’t come and if they do, they’ll accuse me of murder and put me in jail without doing any investigation. I look around. No one’s around. No explanation. No ladder mysteriously leading over the fence. No sign of how this giant human being appeared in my backyard. Could someone have dumped him here? But who would do that? And why my house? At midnight. This is a nightmare. I take a deep breath to centre myself. Then I do the dumbest thing I’ve ever done in my entire life. I jump in. The water is dirty and freezing. I surface, sputtering, immediately regretting my life choices again. The man remains unconscious, which is very rude and unhelpful. Up close, he looks even bigger. I grab his arm. God, he’s heavy. I try to pull him and the strain in my arm punishes me for it. It takes several minutes of struggling, pulling, paddling, nearly drowning myself and seeing my life flash before my eyes multiple times before I finally manage to get him out of the pool. I collapse beside him, breathing hard. I’m soaked and exhausted but I can’t afford to rest. I have to get him to a hospital. I hoist myself up and turn him over. And immediately I see his unconscious face, I pause. I slowly raise my hands to caress the side of his face. I know I shouldn’t be doing this, especially at a time like this but this man is beautiful. It’s easy to tell that God was showing off when He made him. His jaw is extremely sharp, and he has the most striking features I’ve ever seen. He looks ethereal and slightly intimidating even while unconscious. I snap myself out of my reverie. First aid. He needs first aid. CPR. Yes. I reach down to tilt his head up. Then I force his mouth open and lower my lips to his and I know this is definitely the wrong time but they are the softest lips I’ve ever— I need to stop. I blow into his mouth then I place my hands on his chest. I’m about to press and then— A cough. I shriek. He coughs again. This time water pours out of his mouth. I shriek again. His eyes fly open. They’re a swirling pool of black. And surprisingly alert. For one terrifying second, we simply stare at each other. Me leaning over him, him beneath me. We’re both breathing hard. I can’t seem to look away. It’s like I’m hypnotized by the swirling pool of black. I sink deeper and deeper until he sits upright so fast I nearly fall backward. He looks around wildly, taking everything in. The pool. The house. The palm trees. Me. His expression shifts from confusion to disbelief. Then to suspicion. A lot of suspicion. He says something in what sounds like Korean.

I blink.

“Ehn?”

He continues speaking more Korean. His voice is deep and rough. I don’t know what he’s saying, but I’m sure he’s demanding answers. I point at myself.

“Oga, I don’t understand what you’re saying o. Do you understand me?”

He stares for a moment, then switches to English.

“Where am I?”

His accent is not subtle, but it’s smooth and controlled. Unfortunately, his tone is not. I try to talk but it comes out as a stutter.

“Where am I?”, he repeats. His tone takes a darker turn.

I blink twice, before I say, “In my backyard.”

His jaw tightens.

“What?”

“... You’re in my backyard.”

Silence stretches between us.

He stares at me as I’ve suddenly grown two heads. I stare back. The night breeze blows between us. A cricket chirps somewhere in the distance. Then he laughs—a short, disbelieving sound.

“No.”

I frown. “No?”

“No.”

He stands. Water drips from his clothes; in the moonlight, the drops look like crystals. He looks down at me with cold eyes. The man is a giant. I almost break my neck trying to look up at him.

“I’ll ask you again. For the last time. Where the f**k am I?”

The steel in his voice pisses me off. I literally just saved this jerk’s life. I cross my arms and stand at akimbo.

“You’re in my backyard. In River Valley Estate. In Ikeja, Lagos, Nigeria.”, I say with all the sass I can muster.

“You’re lying. This is not...Nigeria.”

“Would you like to see my passport?”

He narrows his eyes. I narrow mine right back. The audacity. He’s the one who ended up in my pool and I’m the one who’s getting interrogated.

“I was in Paris.”

“Congratulations.”, I deadpan.

“I was.”

“Good for you.”

His jaw flexes. “I was in my hotel suite.”

“And now you’re in my house after I dragged you out of my swimming pool.”

His stare intensifies. “So explain that.”

I open my mouth, then close it, then open it again. “Explain what?”

“How I got here.”