Dubious

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Dubious Page 30

by Charmaine Pauls


  As always, Gabriel picks up on my mood. That night, he arranges my naked body on the mattress so he can look at me. He cups my breast gently, stroking his thumb over my nipple.

  “Ouch.” The sensation is almost too much to bear.

  Testing the weight of my breast, he gives me a thoughtful look. “You’re close to having your period.”

  He almost looks disappointed. It’s not like he hasn’t made love to me during my period. I don’t understand his silent dejection.

  “Yes.” I turn on my side, facing the wall, relieved to understand the reason for my depressive feelings. It’s just a heavy bout of PMS.

  He rubs a palm over my stomach and presses his cock between my legs. “I’ll be gentle.” Without waiting for my consent, he rolls me onto my stomach and settles between my thighs. “Open for me, beautiful.”

  I open my legs, giving him the view he wants. He strokes and teases me for a long time, until his fingers are soaked with my wetness. Only then does he push inside, slow and easy. It’s then that it hits me. Since I’ve been back from the hospital, he’s only taken me from behind. How could I have missed this before? He’s fucked me against the wall, on his desk, in his armchair, in the pool, and in a variety of other, creative places, but my butt was always pressed against his groin, my face looking away from him. Is it me? Does he find me unattractive? I twist under him, starting to squirm.

  “Valentina.”

  “Let me up.”

  I don’t expect him to, but he obliges. He watches me warily as I switch positions, turning him on his back.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Looking at you.”

  “Why?” he says with a pained expression.

  “Because I like to.”

  I lower myself over his cock, taking him into the depth of my body. I let the pleasure show on my face, letting him see what he does to me as I start rocking, my nerve endings coming alive for him.

  “You don’t have to,” he says.

  “Do you like to look at me?”

  “You know I do.”

  “Then stop talking and fuck me.”

  It’s as if a dam inside of him breaks. He growls and grips my hips, keeping me in place while he pounds into me, taking me to the edge I want to go.

  As my body tightens, he cries out his climax. It’s the quickest we’ve come together since the week he started fucking me. I drape my body over his chest, holding him inside of me. I wish I could stay like this, but I’m not naïve enough to let myself belief this will last. It matters nothing to him. He has no emotional obligation to me. He can fuck anyone he wants without explanation.

  “Gabriel?”

  He strokes my back. “Yes, beautiful?”

  “Do you fuck other women?”

  His hand stills. “Why?”

  I shrug. “Don’t I need tests for STD?”

  The caressing resumes. “There’s only you, Valentina. I told you before.”

  “It was a long time ago. It could’ve changed.”

  “I’ll tell you if it does.”

  My heart feels like it has just gone through a blender. It can change. I was right. I swallow my tears, angry at my irrational feelings. I have no right to expect more from him. It’s my own damn, stupid fault I fell for my tormentor.

  * * *

  Three weeks later, I resume my secret training with Rhett. My amputated thumb has healed enough to undertake more strenuous exercise. I’m out of shape, even if I tried to stay fit by using the Walker in the gym. He floors me every time, throwing my ass on the mat. It’s during our session on Thursday evening when Gabriel is out on business that I burst into frustrated tears.

  Rhett looks at me, aghast. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No.” I wipe at my cheeks. “I’m just emotional.”

  My damn period hasn’t started yet. The sooner it does, the sooner I’ll get over this depressed state.

  He offers a hand to pull me up. I’m scarcely on my feet when the evening’s dinner pushes back up my throat. I rush to the bathroom, making it to the toilet just before I empty my stomach. Rhett runs in after me, coming to a halt next to the toilet.

  Dry heaves wrack my body, making my eyes tear up.

  “Jesus, Valentina.” He takes a stash of paper towels and hands them to me. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.”

  Feeling slightly better, I rinse my face and wash my hands.

  He touches my arm. “Are you…?”

  “No.” I shake my head. “I’m not sick.”

  “I meant are you pregnant?”

  My lips part in shock. The blood drops straight from my head to my feet, leaving me feeling dizzy. “No, of course not.”

  I’ve never missed my pill. I am however a little late. Oh, God. What if? Gabriel will kill me.

  Impossible.

  I’ve been careful.

  I take another towel from the dispenser and wipe my mouth, noticing how much my hands are shaking. “I think I’ll call it a night.”

  “Can I get you anything?”

  “No, thank you. I just need an early night to catch up on sleep.”

  He watches me leave, not saying a word.

  I crawl into bed after a shower, but I don’t close an eye. It’s late when Gabriel returns. He strips naked and climbs into bed beside me. I’m wet for him, but he takes his time to lick and tease my folds. He doesn’t stop until I’ve come twice, and only then does he fuck me. The way he loves my body is incredible, but my mind isn’t there. My mind is searching for solutions to problems I haven’t even confirmed, yet.

  “Where are you?” he finally asks, kissing my breasts.

  “I’m sorry. I’m just tired.”

  He covers my body in kisses, all the way from my stomach to my feet. He’s so gentle, I want to cry.

  When he’s kissed his way back up to my neck, he hugs me tightly and says, “Go to sleep.”

  * * *

  After breakfast, I walk to the staff unit. Rhett is sitting on the porch, sipping his coffee. He gets to his feet when he sees me.

  “You look like shit.”

  “Thanks.” I give him a wry smile. “I need a favor, please.”

  “Anything.” He leaves the cup on the rail.

  “I need you to go to the pharmacy.”

  His look is pitiful. “All right.”

  “Gabriel can’t know. Do you hear me?”

  “Valentina.”

  He walks down the steps and reaches for me, but I pull away.

  “He can’t know, Rhett, not until I know for sure.”

  He swallows and nods. “I’ll be back soon.”

  * * *

  A short time later, I sit on the seat of the toilet, staring at the two blue lines on the strip.

  Positive.

  I’m expecting Gabriel’s baby.

  A mixture of feelings rushes through me. I’m faint with wonder. I’m also sick with fear. Will he blame me? He’ll be furious. Worse, he’ll think I did it on purpose to trap him. Gabriel will never want a baby with a woman who’s property. I don’t mind raising a child on my own. Gabriel doesn’t have to give me a cent. I won’t expect support from him, but what if he doesn’t want me to have this baby? What if he forces me to have an abortion? If he drives me to a clinic, there won’t be anything I can do to stop him. He still owns me, and now he owns the baby growing in me, too.

  There’s only one thing I can do to save the little life inside me. I quickly pack a bag, my hands trembling so much I drop my phone twice. I wrap the pregnancy kit in a plastic bag, and discard it in the trash outside where no one will look. Only Rhett will guess, but by the time Gabriel confronts him, I’ll be long gone.

  In Gabriel’s study, I write a quick note.

  I can’t honor my promise. I hope you’ll forgive me.

  Leaving it on his desk, I pull the door close, knowing Marie won’t enter his study. Then I call a private taxi. It’s going to cost an arm and a leg, but I can’t afford to take a miniva
n. I need to disappear fast. Rhett left with Gabriel a short while ago, and Quincy is walking Bruno. I walk past the guards at the gate with a wave, my bag slung over my shoulder, acting as normal as I can. They’ve only seen me leaving the property on foot once, but I’m leaving on a regular enough basis for them not to stop me.

  A block from the house, I pause to wait. Two minutes later, the taxi pulls up to the street corner I gave the driver. Looking over my shoulder to make sure no one is following, I jump inside.

  “Go, please. Quickly.”

  I don’t glance back as the driver speeds away. I cup my hands over my stomach and stare straight ahead.

  I have to.

  For my baby.

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  Consent (The Loan Shark Duet, Book 2)

  * * *

  When Gabriel broke down my door, he took over my body and life. Never with force, but always with clever manipulation. He stripped me of my independence, my defenses, and my clothes and turned me into an addict. My addiction is him.

  Once, I had dreams and a future. Now, I have fears, scars, and insatiable needs. I’m damaged beyond repair, but if I’m to survive the most dangerous man in Johannesburg, I can’t allow him to break me, because broken toys are destined for the garbage dump.

  * * *

  Excerpt:

  Chapter One

  Valentina

  A baby.

  I’m going to have Gabriel Louw’s baby.

  Gabriel Louw.

  The most dangerous man in Johannesburg.

  Oh God.

  I clutch a hand over my mouth to silence a sob, and place the other over my stomach where our child is growing.

  While the taxi takes me farther and father away from my captor on my impulsive escape route, my mind reels with a thousand thoughts. How did this happen? Did I forget to take my pill? I’m sure I took it every day at the same time. I even have an alarm programmed on my phone. Did I slip up? How? When? I haven’t taken any medicine that could’ve interfered with the contraceptive. For the life of me, I can’t think of an explanation. My rational mind, the part of me that’s in denial, demands that I find proof that the pregnancy test is wrong, but my gut knows otherwise. The knowledge pounds in my ribs.

  I’m pregnant.

  And alone.

  I have little money, no job, and I’m running from Gabriel Louw.

  I’m in so much trouble. Now is not the time to figure out what went wrong. I need to think of how I’m going to stay alive.

  “Where to, ma’am?” the driver asks.

  When Gabriel finds out I’m missing, he’ll go after my brother. I give the driver Kris’ address and sink back in the seat, nauseous from fear.

  He glances at me in the rearview mirror. “Everything all right?”

  I lower my hand from my mouth and grip the door handle. I need to hold on to something. “I’m fine, thank you.”

  It feels like forever before we pull up at the clinic. I ask the driver to keep the meter running and skirt around to the back of the house where I won’t be visible from any of the clinic windows. I try the kitchen door, but it’s locked. I knock softly.

  Please Charlie, hurry.

  For several painful heartbeats, nothing happens.

  Biting my nail, I run from window to window until I spot Charlie. He’s sitting on his bed, reading a comic book. I tap on the glass. The last thing I want is to scare him by pounding on the window. No reaction. I knock harder. I can’t afford to attract Kris’ attention. In the meantime, the taximeter is running a hole into the small amount of cash I have on me.

  Tap, tap.

  Finally, Charlie looks up. When he sees me, he calls out, “Va–Val.”

  I motion for him to be quiet with my finger on my lips and point at the window latch. Instead of opening it, Charlie hops from the bed and leaves the room.

  Don’t call Kris.

  A moment later, the backdoor opens, and my brother steps out.

  Beyond relief, I want to pull him into my arms and tell him we’re going to be all right, but I have to act normal.

  “Surprise, Charlie,” I whisper. “I came to fetch you. We’re going on a holiday, but you have to come quietly.”

  “Q–quiet,” he whispers back, mimicking my earlier gesture with a finger on his lips.

  There’s no time to go through the house and gather some of his things. I lock up so Kris will be safe inside, and throw the key through the bars of the open bathroom window. Hooking my arm through Charlie’s, I lead him to the waiting taxi.

  Inside, the driver and Charlie speak simultaneously.

  “Where do you want to go?”

  “Where are we go–going?”

  Where are we going?

  Where can I run to where Gabriel won’t find me? A place like that doesn’t exist. If I’m to keep my wits about me, I have to ignore that notion. I’m no longer responsible for only Charlie and myself, but also for a third life. And I have no plan of action. I pinch the bridge of my nose.

  Think, Valentina. Think.

  “Ma’am, where to?” the driver repeats, more impatient now.

  With little cash on me, I can’t afford a plane or bus ticket to anywhere for myself, let alone for two people. There’s only one option left. Wherever we’re going, I’ll have to drive.

  “Ma’am?” The man turns in his seat and gives me a piercing look. “Is everything all right back there?”

  “Yes. We’re going to Berea.”

  He regards me from under his bushy eyebrows and says with a hint of disbelief, “Berea. You sure?”

  “Just drive. I’ll give you directions.”

  He holds my eyes for another moment before turning back to the front and pulling away from the curb. I exhale in relief, happy that Kris hasn’t come running out, and squeeze Charlie’s hand to reassure him. He’s wound down his window and is staring at the buildings that whiz past, oblivious to the lump of concrete in my stomach and the maddening fear pumping through my veins.

  I send a quick text message to Kris so she won’t worry when she finds Charlie gone.

  Charlie and I have to leave for a while. Sorry to sneak off like this, but the less you know the better. Thank you for always being a friend. Love you.

  A block from my old flat, the driver stops. “This is as far as I go.” He motions at the street ahead. “That’s hijackers’ paradise.”

  I pay the extortionate amount and usher Charlie out before the driver can pose the questions I see in his eyes. The minute we’re on the pavement, he speeds off, happy to get out of here.

  “Va–Val.” Charlie kicks in his heels as I take his arm. “This is ho–home.”

  “Not any more.” I give him a bright smile. “This is only where our holiday starts.”

  I have precious little time. It’s a matter of hours, minutes maybe, before Gabriel discovers me gone and puts a death warrant out for our lives. He’ll track my phone and be on our tail faster than I can say disappear. But if I want Charlie to follow hassle-free, I have to make him happy.

  We walk one block to a corner café where I buy Charlie a King Cone ice cream. While he sits down on the pavement to eat it, I call Jerry. The number rings and rings, and finally disconnects without going onto voicemail.

  Darn it. Jerry is my only hope. I try the special number he gave me when he was still supposedly watching over Charlie. It’s a number only me and some of his crime buddies have.

  This time, he picks up with a hesitant, “Val?”

  There’s no time to beat around the bush. “I need a car.”

  “What?”

  “A car, Jerry. Now.”

  “To buy?”

  “Would I have called a car thief if I wanted to buy a car?”

  He utters his refusal meekly. “I can’t do it. What’s going on? This
isn’t like you.”

  I’ve always condemned his shady business, but now isn’t the time for my moral values to induce guilt. “After what you did to us, you owe me, damn you.”

  There’s dejection in his voice. “Val…”

  “Do you want to know what Gabriel Louw did to me because of your ignorant stupidity?”

  “Oh fuck. Oh fucking fuck. You’re running.” His voice trembles. “You’re running away from The Breaker.”

  “If he finds me, I’m dead. So is Charlie.” And the baby I’m carrying. “Please, Jerry. You got us into this mess. Help me get out.”

  There’s a long silence. I can almost feel the gears turn in his head. Just when I think he’s going to hang up, he says, “Where are you?”

  “Your place.”

  “Give me an hour.”

  “Thirty minutes.”

  “Goddamn, Val.” He takes a breath, as if to calm himself. “Wait at the side of the building.”

  “Thank you. You better show up. When I hang up, we can’t speak on this phone again.”

  He knows what I mean. I have to destroy the phone if I don’t want Gabriel to track me.

  “I’ll be there.” The line goes dead with a click.

  Charlie has finished his ice cream. I make him clean his hands on a tissue and throw the wrapper in the trashcan so I can go around the corner and crush the phone under my heel. There are too many tiny parts to discern a tracker, not that I know what to look for, so I stump on everything again, just to be sure, and dump the lot in the trashcan.

  “Ready for our adventure?” I take Charlie’s hand. “Let’s go get our wheels.”

  We hide in an alcove from where I can watch the road. Thankfully, we haven’t crossed any thugs, but they’ll soon crawl out of their holes with the setting of the sun. I play a distracted game of noughts and crosses with Charlie, using a chalkstone I picked up in the road to draw lines on the brick wall.

  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.

 

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