The Edge of Despire

Adam wasn't certain how long he'd been unconscious, but as he fluttered his eyes open, he found himself still in his cramped bathroom. His head throbbed loudly, and he began coughing up blood immediately. Despite the pain, he attempted to sit up.

Finally, his assailant stood a few feet away, holding a bottle of beer in one hand and a gun in the other.

"Bash," Adam cursed, his eyes blazing with anger, turning a deep shade of blood-red.

Adam's body screamed with pain, but his mind raced with adrenaline-fueled clarity. He knew he had to act fast to survive this deadly encounter.

With a defiant glare, Adam struggled to his feet, his muscles trembling with effort. Blood dripped from his lips as he spat defiantly onto the tiled floor.

"Bash, you coward," Adam growled, his voice rough and gravelly. "You think this is how it ends? You'll have to do better than that."

"Look at you, exactly where I want you," the man's voice dripped with venom.

"You'll pay for this with high interest," Adam spat back. The man raised his gun, pointing it at him.

"Not when I kill you."

"You wouldn't. You're a coward."

Adam had always imagined his death, in various scenarios. He'd considered waking up one day, losing his will to live, picking up his gun, and ending it all. He'd witnessed how drugs stole the life out of people, wondering if one day it would be him. And sometimes, he'd pictured those he'd wronged coming back for revenge, maybe succeeding in stabbing him to death. But dying at Bash's hands? That thought had never crossed his mind.

Bash had been his closest friend, practically a brother. They'd grown up together until Bash left for studies abroad, changing everything. When Bash fell for a girl his mother disapproved of, she tasked Adam with removing her.

Adam had no choice. He couldn't refuse his Madame, his boss.

Bash was Madame's eldest child, the only one who stayed. But one action had driven him away.

"Do you remember, Bash? Those nights when we wrestled, and you never won, not once. That's the metaphor of our life. I'm better than you at everything. And if you think you can kill me to avenge that stupid girl, then, bro, you've bested me at one thing," Adam remarked as he walked to the sink, washing his mouth before grabbing a towel to dry his face.

"I could kill you, but I want to have some fun first, just like the fun you had with that stupid girl. This is just the beginning, Adam. Watch your back."

Adam met Bash's gaze squarely, refusing to show any signs of fear despite the dire situation.

"You talk a big game, Bash," Adam retorted, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "But you forget one thing—no matter how many times you knock me down, I'll always get back up. And this time won't be any different."

Bash was a good man, he had a life plan. He wanted to go to school, become a doctor, get married, and settle down. He wanted a life different from his mother's - no guns, no clubs, no wild nights. That's the life they had all grown up living. Madame had it all until she was thrown in jail for murdering her husband, and her kids were thrown onto the streets. It was on the streets that an eleven-year-old Adam met an eleven-year-old Bash and his two younger siblings. They stuck together for almost a year, sleeping under a bridge, scavenging for scraps, and begging for food. They learned to survive, they learned to be the monsters instead of the prey. And when things got fucked up, Madame escaped prison and came looking for them. Since then, she had done everything it took to reach this stage.

At some point, Adam believed he owed Madame a debt, but the truth was that she owed him. He had done everything it took to help her kids when they were on the streets. Adam grew up on the streets, he couldn't remember any other life but that. He did remember the orphanage, but he had run away countless times. The monsters who ran the orphanage had driven him away.

The streets were his home, where he belonged. He wore the shadows like a cloak and rode the darkness. He was the night, the alley, and the downtown.

"Do you know what?" Bash looked him in the eye, as if trying to figure out if Adam really had a heart.

Adam did, a beating one, made of flesh and blood. Adam did, a broken one, made up of pieces that clawed at his soul. People don't get it at all; his heart was shattered long ago, the night his birth mother, whoever she was, threw him on the streets when he was just a baby. His heart was shattered long ago when the police, by some means, located his biological father and handed him over to a stranger who locked him in a box for days and fed him nothing. Adam was messed up; the streets, the craziness, the darkness, everything clawed at him.

"You're dead inside, and even if I pull the trigger, it won't affect you. You're empty, a shell, and that's all,"Bash said.

It hurt; the words did get a way to hurt Adam. The truth hurt, that's what people say, and Bash might not have known it, but he had found Adam's weakness. Adam had always been afraid of feeling empty, and that's the feeling he had been carrying with him for decades now.

Bash's words hung in the air like a challenge, a gauntlet thrown down. Adam's eyes narrowed, his mind racing with emotions. He couldn't deny the truth in Bash's words, but he couldn't bring himself to admit them either.

Bash turned and walked away, disappearing into the night. Adam watched him go, a hint of despire in his eyes. He knew Bash had hit a nerve, but he didn't know how deep the wound went.

As night envelope the city, Adam vanished into the shadows, he felt the familiar ache in his chest. The emptiness Bash had pointed out was real, and it had been his constant companion for as long as he could remember.

But Adam had learned to cope, to fill the void with the rhythms of the streets. He had found a new family among the outcasts and misfits, and together they had formed a bond stronger than blood.

Yet, Bash's words and Madame's earlier, had awakened something deep within him. A spark of longing, a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, there was more to life than the darkness he had grown accustomed to.

Adam's feet carried him to the old abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town, a place he had often retreated to when the world became too much. He climbed up to the rooftop, where the city lights twinkled like stars, and sat down, letting the silence wash over him.

For the first time in years, Adam allowed himself to wonder what it would be like to feel whole again, to have a heart that beat with purpose and passion. The thought sent a shiver down his spine, and he knew he had a long journey ahead of him. But he was ready to take the first step, to face the demons that had haunted him for so long.

"The stars are alive tonight," a voice startled him. When Adam turned, he found a boy standing a few feet away.

"Carlos," Adam swore.

"Calm down, Big Daddy. Madame said I would find you here. I brought the suit and your car." The boy walked in, holding a leather bag, and sprawled it on the floor.

"Bash is in town," the boy mumbled, his eyes fixed on Adam's face, trying to catch a glimpse of a reaction.

"Get lost, now!" Adam stood up, picked up the bag, unzipped it, and revealed a black suit. Madame had gone all ballistic about this party. It was important to her; if it wasn't, he wouldn't go. Big parties, rich people, politicians - and he hated all of it.

Adam's eyes narrowed as he gazed at the suit, his mind racing with thoughts of the party and Bash's unexpected arrival. He had hoped to avoid him, but it seemed fate had other plans.

"Carlos, get out of here," Adam said gruffly, not looking at the boy. "And tell Madame I'll be there, but I'm not promising anything."

Carlos nodded and quickly exited, leaving Adam alone with his thoughts. He sighed heavily and began to dress, the suit feeling like a suffocating shroud.

As he finished getting ready, Adam's phone buzzed with a text from Madame

'Don't forget, Adam. This night is important. Don't disappoint me.'

Adam's jaw clenched in frustration, but he knew he had no choice. He had to play along, at least for now.

Adam drove through the city for what seemed like eternity before arriving at Tower 1. The party tonight was taking place at one of the exquisite penthouses. He handed the valet his car and walked in, paparazzi lining up inside. The place seemed quiet, but he could sense the anticipation. He rode the elevator with two other women who spoke Hausa, commenting about him all the way up. They laughed about his hair, his left pierced ear, and fantasized about what lay underneath his suit.

"If you decide, I'd let one of you see underneath my suit," he whispered to one of them and walked out as the elevator came to a halt. He heard their giggles behind him.

"Big Daddy, I never thought you'd make it," a tall woman welcomed him at the entrance.

"Fanna, it's a pleasure," he said, wrapping his arm around her.

Fanna smiled, her eyes gleaming with amusement. "I see you're still as charming as ever, Adam." She led him into the penthouse, where the party was in full swing. The room was filled with the city's elite, sipping champagne and making small talk.

Adam scanned the room, his eyes searching for Bash. He spotted him across the room, standing by the bar, looking as handsome and dangerous as ever. Adam's heart skipped a beat as their eyes met, and he felt a shiver run down his spine.

"Ah, Adam, you made it," Bash said, raising his glass in a silent toast.

Adam nodded, his eyes locked on Bash's. He knew that look, that smile. It was a challenge, a dare to come closer.

"Let's get this over with," Adam muttered to Fanna, his eyes never leaving Bash's face.

Fanna laughed, her voice husky. "Oh, Adam. You're so eager to get to the main event. But first, let's mingle. Madame is waiting for you."

Adam's eyes narrowed, but he followed Fanna through the crowds, shaking hands and making small talk. All the while, his eyes kept drifting back to Bash, who was watching him with an intensity that made Adam's skin crawl.

What was Bash planning? And what did Madame have in store for him tonight? Adam's heart raced with anticipation as he played the game, waiting for the perfect moment to make his move.

Fanna, a rare beauty and gem, used to work for Madame. She was one of Madame's favorites, and when she decided to leave for a better opportunity, Madame introduced her to the First Lady, and soon she became the First Lady's secretary. Fanna eventually met a senator and married him.

"Bash is in town," she stated, her voice low and husky, when they found themselves in a secluded part of the penthouse.

"Yeah, I know," Adam replied, his eyes locked on hers.

"Did he...?" Fanna asked, her hands snuggling around his neck, tracing the bruises. Her lips found his bruised ones, her touch sending shivers down his spine.

Fanna's eyes never left Adam's face, her gaze piercing through the mask he wore. She knew him too well, knew the secrets he kept hidden beneath the surface.

"Just tell me the truth, Adam," she whispered, her voice a gentle plea. "What happened between you and Bash?"

Adam's eyes dropped, his jaw clenched in a stubborn silence. Fanna's fingers traced the lines of his face, her touch a soft caress.

"Please, Adam," she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. "I need to know."

The silence stretched out between them, a taut wire humming with tension. Finally, Adam's eyes flashed up to meet hers, his gaze burning with a fierce intensity.

"He wants something from me, Fanna," Adam growled, his voice low and menacing. "Something I can't give him."

Fanna's eyes narrowed, her mind racing with possibilities. "What is it, Adam? What does he want?"

Adam's smile was a cold, hard thing, a smile that sent shivers down Fanna's spine.

"He wants the truth, Fanna," Adam whispered, his eyes glinting with a dangerous light. "And I'm the only one who can give it to him."

Fanna's eyes widened, her mind racing with the implications. "The truth about what, Adam?" she pressed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Adam's smile grew wider, his eyes glinting with a knowing light. "About my past, Fanna. About who I really am."

Fanna's heart raced as she realized the magnitude of what Adam was hinting at. "You mean...your identity?" she stammered.

Adam's nod was almost imperceptible, but Fanna caught it. "Yes, Fanna. My identity. The one thing Bash wants more than anything else."

Fanna's mind was reeling, trying to piece together the puzzle. "But why? What's so important about your identity?"

Adam's eyes locked onto hers, his gaze burning with intensity. "Because, Fanna, my identity holds the key to a secret that could bring down his mother. And Bash will stop at nothing to get it."

"Because of that stupid girl," she finally understood.

"You know that the girl is alive," he muttered.

"I know," she replied. "Tell him. He should know," she jabbed him.

"It's not my story to tell," he growled, his anger palpable. "If it were up to me, I would kill her. If it were my story to tell, I would kill her first, then package her in a box and drop her at his door."

Fanna's eyes flashed with anger, her voice low and menacing. "You're a coward, Adam. You're afraid of Bash, afraid of the truth."

Adam's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched in a tight line. "I'm not afraid of anyone, Fanna. I'm just trying to protect myself."

Fanna's laughter was a harsh, mocking sound. "Protect yourself? From what? The truth? Bash? Or from yourself?"

Adam's eyes dropped, his shoulders sagging in defeat. "You don't understand, Fanna. You don't know what it's like to carry this burden."

Fanna's expression softened, her voice gentle. "I understand more than you think, Adam. I know what it's like to be trapped in a web of secrets and lies. But I also know that the truth can set you free."

Adam's eyes locked onto hers, a glimmer of hope in their depths. "Do you really believe that, Fanna?"

Fanna's smile was a warm, encouraging thing. "I do, Adam. I believe that the truth can heal even the deepest wounds."

Adam's gaze held hers, searching for answers. "And what about Bash? What happens if he finds out?"

Fanna's expression turned serious. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. But first, we need to get the truth out in the open. You need to tell me what's going on, Adam."

Adam's eyes dropped, his shoulders sagging in defeat. "It's a long story, Fanna. One that goes back a long time."

Fanna's hand on his arm was a gentle encouragement. "I'm listening, Adam. I'm here for you."

With a deep breath, Adam began to speak, the words spilling out like a dam breaking. "It started with my father...and a secret that could change everything."

Here's the corrected text:

"Fanna had always been good to him, like an older sister he never had. She cared and kept his secrets; he couldn't hide anything from her. "When I was seventeen, Madame framed me for raping a girl," Adam said, his voice laced with pain.

Fanna's expression turned serious. "You did rape her, I knew the story," she interrupted, her eyes filled with a deep understanding.

Adam's eyes dropped, shame etched on his face. "Yes, I did. But I wasn't alone. Bash, G-J, Sule, and I...we gang-raped her. Madame isolated me and sent me to jail. Because I was a minor, things got a bit easier. Blood tests, DNA, and all that cleared my name. My biological father was informed, and he came for me, but instead of helping me, he locked me in a room in his house for two years."

Fanna's eyes widened in shock, her voice barely above a whisper. "Adam, I had no idea. I'm so sorry."

Adam's shrug was a subtle gesture, his eyes gazing into the past. "It's not your fault, Fanna. I was a stupid kid, trying to impress the wrong people. I thought I was invincible, that I could get away with anything."

Fanna's hand on his arm was a gentle comfort. "You were a victim too, Adam. Madame manipulated you, used you for her own gain."

Adam's laugh was a harsh, bitter sound. "I was a willing participant, Fanna. I can't blame it all on Madame. I have to live with what I did, what we did."

The silence that followed was heavy with emotion, the weight of Adam's secrets and guilt hanging in the air like a challenge. Fanna's eyes never left his face, her expression a mix of compassion and understanding.

"We'll get through this, Adam," she whispered finally.

Adam wrapped his arms around Fanna, her warmth seeping into his jacket. The scent of lavender wafted through his nose.

"Baby," a masculine voice startled them. Fanna pulled out of the hug, a big fake smile spreading across her face the moment she spotted the elderly, bellied man at the end of the hallway.

"Baby," she said in a sweet, meek voice.

"Baby," Adam whispered mischievously.

"Shh!" She shushed him and started walking towards the man.

"This is Adam," she introduced, wrapping her arms around the man and hugging him sideways, wearing a cute pout. "He's like a baby brother; we grew up in the same neighborhood."

"Adam," she turned to him, "this is my husband" she poused. "Wait for me here; I'll show you to Madame. She's upstairs," she instructed Adam, then dragged her husband down the corridor.

Adam watched them for a while as they disappeared. He contemplated joining the party, but the silence here was all he got, because the real party would start soon.

Adam leaned against the wall, his eyes fixed on the empty hallway. He could hear the distant hum of voices and the clinking of glasses from the party above. He sighed, feeling out of place. Suddenly, he heard footsteps approaching. A petite, short nervous figure emerged from the shadows, the girl ran passed him and headed out.

Adam followed her, catching a glimpse of her as she entered the elevator. He used the stairs, and found himself on the rooftop, where he heard a muffled sound of crying.

He walked towards the sound, his footsteps echoing off the rooftop's sleek surfaces. As he turned a corner, he spotted a figure at the edge of the tower gazing down at the street below.

"I was told girls don't cry, it makes them look ugly," he mumbled softly, trying not to startle her.

The sobbing stopped instantly, and the girl turned and looked at him with red-rimmed eyes. Up close, the girl looked young, a teenager. Her eyes told a different story.

"Get down here, let's talk," he tried to get her away from the edge.

"You won't get it," her voice, soft and silky like a moonless night, caught his ears. With that said, she did what he was afraid she would; she let her body fall, her eyes never leaving his until she disappeared. He ran to the edge, trying to catch her, but it was too late.

"Fuck," he swore.

Heart pounding, he stared into the abyss below, his mind racing with a jumble of emotions. Guilt, regret, and a gnawing sense of helplessness washed over him like a tidal wave. He had tried to save her, but his efforts had been in vain.