Thirty-five minutes later, an orange station wagon pulls up. The bodywork is dented and the metal rusted where the paint has peeled. My jaw drops when the rickety vehicle comes to a stop next to us, and Jerry exits.
“Jerry.” I throw my arms in the air.
“What?” he says in an exasperated voice. “It’s all I could do on short notice.”
“How far will this thing get us?”
He pats the bonnet. “She’s good. I checked her out. Engine is a make-over, the full Monty.” He holds the key out to me. “Swapped the registration plate too, but keep off the main roads, just in case.”
“Thanks.” I snatch the key from his hand. “Let’s go, Charlie.”
Jerry pats Charlie on the back as my brother rounds the car. “How’s things, my man?”
Charlie gives him a high-five and a grin. When he’s buckled up, I look at Jerry through the window one last time before pulling off, heading for the highway.
The engine makes a funny noise and the body of the car rattles, but we make smooth progress and manage to get through Hillbrow without any hijacking attempts, courtesy of the state of the car.
Once we hit the N1, my frayed nerves finally unravel. My hands start shaking on the wheel. A hot flush travels over me, making me break out in a sweat. My stomach is so tight it aches. I fight the urge to throw up. The summer smog is brittle and dirty, but I open the window to fill my lungs with air. As always, survival mode kicks in and numbs me to the fears and dangers of our situation.
Charlie is looking through his window, humming a song. I manage to tweak the radio enough to find a Country and Western station he likes. Checking the petrol gauge, I groan inwardly. The tank is near empty. At the first petrol station after Midrand, I fill up and use my last cash to buy a few supplies from the Quick shop, which are mostly snacks for Charlie. I don’t dare withdraw money at the ATM with my card. It will be too easy to track.
My gut twists and churns the farther we crawl away from Johannesburg, the city of gold that is ruled by a man as beautiful and dilapidated as the place itself, a man who’ll kill us if he finds us.
When the skyline of Sandton disappears from my rearview mirror, a crippling notion of loss and loneliness hits me. The emotions throw me off kilter. Shock runs through me. I miss Gabriel. That makes me twisted and sick. It must be the hormones. Yes, I’m not myself. Uninvited tears sting my eyes. Swatting at them, I force my gaze on the road ahead.
Don’t look back.
There are only Charlie, me, and my baby now.
We’ll make it. We’ll survive.
I have no idea where I’m heading until we hit the sign announcing the three-way split. If we carry on straight, we head north toward Polokwane. I don’t know the area. The only remaining options are Bloemfontein or Durban. Durban isn’t as far away as Bloemfontein, and the weather is less harsh. Without financial means, Durban is the better option. Plus, I can make it there on a tank of petrol, whereas I’ll run out of fuel in the middle of nowhere, long before I hit Bloemfontein.
The sign for the N3 appears. I change lanes, and enter the interchange that takes me over the highway and east. With the flick on an indicator, I decide our destiny and future.
* * *
Gabriel
The guy I took out this afternoon was scum, but today the violence leaves a bad taste in my mouth. All I want is to go home to Valentina, crawl into her body, and melt into her bed. Things between us have changed. No matter how much I lie to myself, she’s no longer the toy I pickpocketed from her life. She’s something––someone––I want enough to break every rule in the book to keep. She’s no longer my captive. I’m hers.
My addiction has grown over the months to an all-consuming obsession. Despite the coldness inside of me, she awakens emotions I thought I didn’t have. She makes me feel things I’ve never felt before––gratitude, regret, joy, and fear––and even if these feelings scare me shitless, I want more.
When I get home, I dismiss Rhett and Quincy, and go upstairs for a shower. I don’t want to face my girl covered in blood. Washing the stench of my sins away, I think about her and what I want to do to her body. The thoughts make me hard. If I wasn’t so impatient to plant my cock in her body, I would’ve made myself come first so I can last longer, but my urgency is palpable. I towel myself dry quickly and dress in slacks and a white shirt.
My heartbeat speeds up as I make my way to the kitchen. At this hour, Valentina will be ironing. It irks me to see her work so hard, to see her work at all, but it’s not for much longer. The minute she falls pregnant, everything will change.
Silence greets me when I enter the kitchen. The counters are tidy and wiped down. Marie has already left for the day. An eerie emptiness presses down on the space. I don’t like it. I quicken my step, putting my head around the scullery doorframe, but there’s no one. A sickening sensation settles over my body. Every nerve ending tingles. Rushing to the maid quarters, I jerk the door open. Valentina’s bed is made. Oscar is sleeping on her pillow. My leg hurts from the force I put on it as I limp to the bathroom.
Empty.
With a growing feeling of dread, I fling the cabinets open. Everything seems to be there. The cosmetics and bath salts I bought are neatly stacked. Back in her bedroom, I do the same with her closet. The clothes, shoes, jewelry, books, and other knick-knacks I got for Valentina are there. Still, something is wrong. I know it in my gut.
Standing there, absorbing the chill from the descending night, the molecules of my body go flat and cold. An overpowering sense of abandonment fills me. Then the fear hits, hot and liquid, rippling over me in a wave. If Magda did something to Valentina… If she hurt her… I swear to God I’ll kill my mother.
Making my way down the hallway to my office, I dig my phone from my pocket and call Rhett.
He replies with a cheerful, “What’s up, boss?”
“In my office. Now. Bring Quincy.”
I hang up and rush through my office door, expecting an army or Magda, but what I see is a sheet of white paper on my desk.
All of my attention hones in on that scrap of paper. Instinct tells me everything that has just derailed in my life is summarized on there, and for three whole seconds I can’t make myself move. I pinch my eyes shut, brace myself, and round my desk. It’s in her handwriting. My hand shakes as I lift it to the light and read.
I can’t honor my promise. I hope you’ll forgive me.
Goddammit, no!
I crumple the paper in my fist and drag my hands through my hair. I feel like falling to my knees, but somehow I remain standing. Of all the things she could’ve done, this is the last I expected. Charlie means too much to her. My feelings are a mess of tangled, electric wires. I’m about to short-circuit, explode, and burn out. I want to find and hurt her, make her pay for her betrayal and for what she’s putting me through. I’ll take the skin off her backside and drag her right back. This time, I’ll chain her to my bed until she understands the meaning of property.
Rhett and Quincy chase through the door, saving me from my dark thoughts. They both still at the state of me.
“What’s up?” Quincy asks carefully.
I lower my hands to my hips. It’s hard for me to speak. For a moment, I consider thrusting the paper at them, but I don’t want them to witness Valentina’s intimate rejection. I swallow, breathe in, and say, “Valentina’s gone.”
Quincy pales. “What do you mean, gone?”
It takes every ounce of strength I have to push out the words, and when I finally do, my mouth is bitter. “She ran.”
Rhett’s eyes go wide. “Fuck, no.”
Quincy is the first to get to his senses. “Did she say something? Has someone seen her go?”
“She left a note.” Since Quincy seems more in control than Rhett, I say, “Go to the guardhouse. Ask them when she left and how. With what? Did she go with a suitcase? Pull the tape. I want to know every fucking detail. Not a word to Magda or her guards.” A dribble of cold swe
at runs down my spine as I say it. This is the opportunity Magda has been waiting for.
Quincy is out of my office in a flash. I’m tripping over my thoughts in the orders I’m thinking up for Rhett. Track her phone. Pull her bank records for the last six hours. Put out word with our informants. Before I can voice anything, Rhett steps forward. Something in his demeanor makes me pause. His shoulders are hunched and his brows drawn together.
“Gabriel…” he starts.
This is going to be bad.
He pauses and licks his lips. “There’s something you should know.”
Those words make me want to kill him. He knows something and withheld it from me. I stand quietly, waiting for him to continue.
“I think…” He lowers his head. “Maybe… I don’t know for sure, but…”
My patience snaps. “Spit it out or I’ll shoot a hole in your goddamn tongue.”
He takes a deep breath and faces me. “Valentina asked me to buy her a pregnancy test this morning.”
I reel in shock. “What?” I heard him fine, but I can’t process what he told me. “Valentina thinks she’s pregnant?” I say more to myself than him.
“If you think about it, she’s been acting kind of emotional, lately.”
I let the observation sink in. She’s been through a lot with her accident and giving up her studies. Naturally, I attributed her sadness to those events. Now that Rhett mentions it, Valentina has been more tearful than usual. When I touched her last night, her breasts were bigger and tender, but I blamed her period for the changes.
Fuck me.
There are too many feelings assaulting me to make sense of anything––pride, joy, fear, hot fucking raving mad anger… If Valentina is pregnant and she ran, it can only be for one reason. I know how negative and depressed the women in my life felt about their planned pregnancies. How much worse must she feel about an unexpected one? She doesn’t want the baby, and she’s going to get rid of it.
Even if I expected the reaction, I’m filled with rage and heart-ripping anxiety. The rage is not for her, but for me. I could’ve prevented this disaster. I should’ve locked her up. I should’ve noticed when her disposition changed. I could’ve prevented her from killing our child, the child who is supposed to save her.
Pain rips through my insides when I think about losing an unborn baby, but I have no one else but myself to blame. This is all my doing. I swapped her birth control pills for placebo ones. I deceived her in the most despicable way, and I’ll take full responsibility for her actions. No matter if she’s no longer pregnant. She’s still mine. And I want her back.
“Gabriel?” Rhett looks at me from under his eyebrows. He’s taken two steps back and is standing at a safe distance closer to the door.
“Search every trashcan on the property.” There’s a good chance Valentina may have taken the pregnancy test with her, but I need to be sure. “Find that test, and bring it to me.”
I’m clear enough in my fucked up state to realize I may be jumping the gun. There’s a chance she’s not pregnant, but I have to consider all options.
When he’s gone, I call the guardhouse and bark out commands. I don’t want the news to leak to Magda prematurely. Eventually, she’ll find out. Until then, I need all the time I can get or Valentina is dead. I punch in the details to activate the tracker software installed on my phone. Her tracker is goddamn dead, which can only mean she destroyed the phone. To be sure, I dial her number, but it goes straight onto voicemail.
The day I kicked down Valentina’s door in Berea, I gave her my phone to call her friend, the vet she’s been working for. I saved the number on my phone when she was done. Scrolling to Kris’ name, I dial the number with a shaking hand.
Her voice comes tired over the phone. “Kris, here. How can I help?”
“Gabriel Louw.”
She goes quiet at the mention of my name.
“Is Valentina with you?”
“Why would she be?” Panic enters her tone. “What’s wrong?”
I believe her. Her reaction is too genuine to be acting. “Is Charlie there?”
“You know he is.”
“I think you better check.”
“Even if he wasn’t, I wouldn’t tell you.”
“Listen to me, and listen carefully. This is not the time for games. Valentina’s life may be at stake.”
“You useless son of a bitch. I’ll bust your balls.” She carries on with elaborate and colorful insults that are interrupted by a lot of barking. I assume she’s walking through the clinic to the house. “I’ll mince you up and eat you alive.”
“Kris?” I keep my voice calm. “We both care about Valentina, each in our own way. Help me to help her.”
She grows quiet at that, and for a moment, so do I. It’s the first time I admitted to anyone but myself that I care about Valentina. The words shock me, but they also free me. It’s out in the open. No more hiding.
She inhales and exhales. The air that leaves her mouth is shaky. Her verdict is short and sweet. It has a sense of terrible finality. “He’s gone.”
Jesus.
I raise my face to the ceiling and search for calmness within myself.
“What the hell is going on?” she shouts.
“Is there a note?”
I can hear her footsteps clacking through the house. “No. Nothing.” She’s shuffling things around. Something hits the floor with a thud. “Fuck-all. All Charlie’s stuff is here.”
“Stay calm. I’ll find her. Do me a favor. Call me on this number if you hear anything from her.”
“Why will I give you shit?”
“Believe me, right now, I’m her only chance.”
“The sad thing is I do.”
I cut the call just as Rhett reenters my office, a zip lock bag in his hand. He holds it out to me. “We found it.”
His solemn eyes tell me the news even before I reach for the proof. Two blue lines.
The air leaves my lungs. My weak leg twitches, and I have to grab the edge of the desk to maintain my balance.
I was right. Valentina could only have left for one reason––to get rid of a baby she doesn’t want. And it may just kill her if Magda has her way. It’s the exact opposite of what I intended. This is my fault. My fucked up, ingenious plan backfired.
Quincy comes rushing back. Words fall like verbal diarrhea from his lips. “She left on foot four hours ago. All she had with her was an overnight bag. I tried not to raise suspicion, but the guards know something’s going on. I’m afraid…” He trails off as his eyes land on the bag in my hand. “Fuck. Is that what I think it is?”
“What now, Gabriel?” Rhett asks, his expression concerned. “What do we do?”
I don’t hesitate in my answer. “We get her back.”
“You better hurry,” Quincy says. “The guards made noise. By now, Magda knows.”
The stick with the evidence of Valentina’s conception in hand, I march to Magda’s office.
She sits behind her desk, scribbling in a notepad. “Valentina ran.” Her expression is smug. “We’re going after her with everything we’ve got. A team is already on the way to her brother.”
“Stop them.”
She throws down her pen. “Excuse me?”
I drop the evidence of my child in front of her. It takes her one second to connect the dots. In her eyes, I see her understanding. We both know I did it on purpose, and we both know why.
She pinches her lips together and leans back in her chair. “So this is how you get what you want.”
“Call off your men.”
“You made a big mistake.”
“That’s your opinion, and you know I don’t care about what you or anybody else thinks. Valentina is going to be the mother of my child. From now on, she’s family. That wipes away her debt and keeps her and anyone remotely connected to her safe.”
I don’t say what I suspect, that the baby may already be gone. It doesn’t matter whether I bring her back pregnant or n
ot. Eventually, she will have my child, even if it takes years and thousands of rands of fertility treatments. I don’t care. Somewhere in the back of my mind I know it’s a lie. I do care. I do care if she wants to be a mother. More than that, I care if she wants my child. Unfortunately, when it comes to life and death, we don’t always have the luxury of choice or answers to our questions. Maybe it’s better that I don’t know the answers. I already know I’m a monster and that she hates me. What I’m doing to her is selfish, wrong, and immoral, but I’ve never claimed to be a good man. I wanted her from the moment I saw her. I still do. More than ever. Letting her go is the one thing I’m not capable of.
Magda is still regarding me with contempt. I’ll go as far as to say with hatred. Even as she speaks she picks up her phone and dials a number. “You foolish boy. This goes to show men can never be trusted. It’s too easy to lead them around by their dicks.” A ringtone sounds on her phone, followed by a curt answer. “Scott, turn back. The hit on Charles is off.” She listens to a reply. “We still want the girl, but bring her in alive and unharmed.” She cuts the call and glares at me. “You do realize you’ve given all your power away. Now, she holds the power over you. I hope this makes you happy.”
It’s been a long time since Valentina took power over me, and a man like me can never be happy. I’ll settle for being content, and I’ll be that when I get my precious property back.
My mother needs to understand one thing. “If a hair on her head is harmed, I’ll take it as a personal attack on me and my family. All gloves will come off.”
“This can never have a happy ending.”
I don’t want to hear my mother’s prophecy, because it hits the instinctive knowledge inside me with a bullseye. “Just make sure your men understand. She’s my responsibility. Anything they find, anything they hear, sniff, guess, or divine, I want to know.”
“You will. I owe you a fuck you for getting tangled up between that whore’s legs and screwing this up for the family.”
I inch closer to the desk, towering over Magda. “Careful. You’re talking about the mother of my child. This is your last warning. Insult her again and you won’t like the consequences.”
Dubious: The Loan Shark Duet (Book 1) Page 31