It took time getting used to Rhett or Quincy driving me around when Gabriel wasn’t available, but now I have an entourage of two cars and seven men.
“Isn’t this over the top?” I ask my driver.
He doesn’t answer, and for the rest of the way we’re silent.
Kris comes outside the minute we park. The men take up positions around the property.
“Val!” Kris takes me into a hug and holds me at arm’s length. “Are you all right?”
“Perfect.”
She glances at the men. “Are they really necessary?”
“Gabriel seems to think so. Let’s go inside.”
She takes my arm and leads me to the practice. “I cleared my schedule when Quincy called. I just have to finish the midday medications.”
“Oh, Kris, you shouldn’t have.” She needs the consultation money.
“I want to talk to you without interruptions.”
“I could’ve come tonight.”
“I couldn’t wait. Come on, take the tray.”
I take the tray with the pills, syrups, and syringes, and follow Kris to the hospital kennel. Boxes are stacked in the corner and on every free surface. Reading the labels, I shoot her a questioning look. “A computer? And printer?”
She administers an injection to a Pug. “More like computers and printers, as in plural.”
“Did your ship come in?” Nobody deserves it more than Kris. “Did you inherit money from a long-lost uncle?” I tease. “What happened?”
She finishes with the injection and closes the cage before turning to me. “Gabriel, that’s what happened.”
“What?”
She waves her arm at the boxes. “All of this is from him. It came last week. There are also an ECG and X-ray machine in the backroom.”
“Where are you going to put all this stuff?” The practice is bursting out of its seams as it is.
“An architect came to see me about plans for extending. The plans include a reeducation pool, Val.”
I gape at her. “Gabriel?”
“Yes.”
“Did you accept?”
“No.”
“What did he say?”
“He told me to drive everything to the garbage dump if I don’t want it.” She carries on with her administrations.
“That sounds just like him.”
“Why did he do it?” she asks, wiping her hands on her overcoat and giving me a piercing look.
“He didn’t say?”
“Nothing.”
“Shall we have some tea?”
“All righty.”
We finish the round of medicine and go to the house. In the kitchen, she takes two beers from the fridge.
“No thanks. I’ll stick with tea.”
I switch on the kettle while she cracks open the can and watches me from under her lashes.
“What the fuck, Val?”
I sigh and lean against the counter. “I’m really, really sorry about running off with Charlie like that. I couldn’t tell you. I didn’t want to put your life in danger.”
“Gabriel stormed in here looking like a madman. The guy is normally a freaky, frightening shit, but the way he looked that day scared the bejesus out of me. Why did you run?”
“I thought… I was worried he’d make me do something I didn’t want to.”
“Like what?”
I grapple for words, trying to find the most tactful ones.
“Like what, Val?”
“I’m pregnant.”
“Jesus.” She turns her head to the ceiling and drags a hand over her face. When she locks eyes with me again, there’s sympathy in hers. Her gaze slips to my stomach. “How many months?”
“Four.”
“Too late for an abortion.”
“I didn’t want one.”
“Why not? Did you fucking plan it?”
I give her an incredulous look. “Of course not. I took my pill every day.” I fiddle with the teabag. “I don’t get where I went wrong.”
Her sigh is labored. “It happens. The pill isn’t one hundred percent effective. There’s always the one percent exception, but why did you let the pregnancy come this far? No one would’ve blamed you if you’d ended it. Your circumstances aren’t exactly normal.”
“It’s not the child’s fault.”
“Neither is it yours.” Her voice turns bitter. “It’s Gabriel Louw’s fault.”
“It takes two to tango.”
“I’m not naïve, Val.”
“He didn’t rape me.”
“No?”
“No!”
“Can you honestly tell me you gave him your consent?”
“Yes. Actually, I begged him.” I take down the tin with sugar so Kris won’t see the shame in my eyes.
“I told you he was fucking with your mind. Please don’t tell me you love him.”
I can’t face her. “I told him those exact words yesterday.”
“You did not.”
“I also said I hated him more.”
“What is this? A love-hate thing?” She walks to my side and lowers her head, searching for my eyes. “What do you think you have with him, Val? You still owe him money, and nine years of slave labor.”
I pour the water over the teabag. “He wrote all of that off.”
“Because of the baby?”
Cupping the mug, I turn to her. “We got married yesterday.”
Her jaw drops. Her gaze goes to the ring on my left hand. For several seconds, she only stares at it, as if she can’t make sense of what it is. Finally, she clasps a hand over her forehead and starts pacing the room. Neither of us speaks while she processes the news.
When she finally stops, it’s to stare at me with incomprehension. “Explain it to me, because I don’t get it.”
I shrug. “I’m going to have his baby. Making me family was the only way he could protect me.”
“Are you listening to yourself? You’re a member of the Louw family. You’re mafia, Val.”
“They’re not mafia. They’re loan sharks.”
“What the hell ever. Same difference. You married into the mob.”
“Well, it’s done. I can’t take it back.”
“Damn right, you can’t.” Her gaze shifts back to my stomach. “How does he feel about the baby?”
I swallow. “I’m sure he’s not ecstatic, but he was man enough to face his responsibility.” I don’t say marriage had a lot to do with Gabriel’s obsessive possessiveness of me.
She holds up a finger. “Let me get this straight. You found out you’re pregnant, but couldn’t get it over your heart to terminate it, and frightened that Gabriel would make you have an abortion, you ran, taking Charlie with you, because you knew Gabriel would come after him when he found you gone. And then?”
“Then I got Jerry––You remember my old neighbor?––to give me a car, and we drove to Durban. That’s where Gabriel eventually caught up with me.”
“And instead of killing you for running, he married you.”
“Yes.”
“Do you know how fucked-up this sounds?”
“I know the situation isn’t ideal, but Charlie is safe, and so am I.”
“My God, Val, you’re going to be a mother. Is this what you want?”
“Maybe it’s not what I would’ve chosen, at least not for another few years, but it happened, and I’m dealing with it as best as I can.”
“What about your life?”
“What about it?”
“Is it going to be centered around the mistake you and Gabriel made?”
“My child is not a mistake.”
“That’s not what I meant. A life without love can get terribly lonely.”
“I’ll have my baby, won’t I?”
“I’m not sure you will.”
A feeling of dread creeps over me. “What do you mean?”
“You grew up with the business. You’re not stupid. This child will be Gabriel’s first and yours second.
If his family is against you, they may not give you much of a say in how you raise him. In fact, if they want to, they can take him away from you.”
“He’s mine.” I put a hand on my stomach. “Nobody takes him away from me.”
“That’s not how the family works,” she says gently.
She’s right. Gabriel holds all the power, but I can’t face it. Not now.
“Listen, Val, just do me a favor. Get a job. Find something to occupy your mind, something that’ll make you happy.”
I sound immaturely bitter. “For in case I end up not having a child to take care of, you mean?”
“I care about you, kiddo. That’s all.”
“I know.” I look away. “Gabriel wants me to run a charity project for strays.”
“Do you?”
“I don’t know. I’ve kind of lost my passion.”
“Maybe it’ll come back.”
“Maybe.”
“I’ll always be here for you, no matter what. You know that, right? I just don’t want you to look at the situation with blinkers and get a shock when reality hits.”
“I know.”
“Hey,” she nudges me, “have you had lunch?”
“No.”
“How about I cook us something and we talk about disposable versus echo-friendly diapers?”
“I have a better idea. I’ll take you out to lunch and baby shopping.”
“Don’t grab the arm when I offer the little finger. There’s a big difference between talking and actually walking through aisles filled with bottles and pacifiers.”
“We’ll also talk about your new practice. Are you going to keep the equipment Gabriel sent?”
“I haven’t decided, yet.”
I leave the tepid tea on the counter and take her hand. “You’ll have to hire more people if you do.”
“And set up a baby playpen for when his mom comes to visit.”
I swipe at the tears building in my eyes. “Damn hormones.”
“Here.” She fishes a tissue from her pocket. “The best remedy to get over pregnancy hormones is tiramisu at Roma’s.”
“Yuk.” I make a face. “The thought alone of coffee liquor and cream makes me sick.”
“It’s for me, not you. Looks like I’ll need a double portion, today.”
A laugh bubbles from my throat. “You’re horrible.”
“Love you too, kiddo.”
Gabriel
On the way to Berea, I call Dorothy Botha. The psychiatrist greets me by name when she answers.
I dive straight in. “I need advice. When’s a good time to call?”
“You can speak. I’m not with a patient.”
“I need to break important news to Carly, and I was wondering how to go about it.”
“What kind of news?”
“I got married, and my wife is pregnant.”
A silence follows. “Does Carly know about your relationship?”
“We kept it secret. She was our maid.”
“I see.” The silence stretches even longer. “Does Carly like her?”
“Let’s just say she doesn’t hate her. After what you said about Carly’s insecurity of losing me or her mother to a new spouse, I want to make sure I handle this correctly.”
“I’m afraid it’s too late. You handled it wrong the minute you decided to get married in secret. Carly hasn’t been a part of the unfolding relationship or the events that led to your decision.”
“Things were complicated. What do you suggest?”
“In a situation like this, I’d say go for honesty.”
“Impossible. This is not a rose-colored fairy tale, Ms. Botha.”
“If you can’t tell all the facts, be as honest as you can. Tell Carly why you excluded her and be frank about your feelings. It may help her to express how she feels about your rash decision. Expect a negative reaction, and whatever you do, don’t get upset. What she’ll need is love and understanding. Give her time to deal with the news and to adjust, but make it clear that your decision won’t change, if that’s the case. It’s important to show her stability and to reassure her that your love for her is unaffected.”
“So, I just blurt it out?”
“No, you use tact. Give her a prompt to prepare her, something like, ‘Carly, you remember Ms. So-And-So?’”
“Got it.”
“Good luck. I’ll chat to Carly about it during our next session.”
“Thank you.”
“My pleasure. Oh and congratulations.”
I rub my aching neck muscles when she hangs up. As I’ve said to myself so many times during the last few days, I only have myself to blame.
The first thing on my agenda is to have a word with Jerry. I’ve been looking for him ever since the burglary at Valentina’s old flat, the scruffy bachelor apartment I now own. The cockroach has been hiding from the day I took Valentina, but now that Magda has found him, he crawled out of the drainpipes, thinking he’s safe from me. There are things that don’t add up, and I want answers.
As per my instruction, Rhett and Quincy follow in the Merc. I needed privacy for the call I made to Ms. Botha. They park behind me in front of Jerry’s building. The beggars on the sidewalk recognize my face. They scatter when I exit. From windows higher up, mothers shout in Xhosa and Sotho for their children to run inside.
Scott, my mother’s bodyguard, gets out of the Merc with my two guys. This wasn’t the plan.
He greets me with a curt nod. “Mr. Louw.”
“Scott,” I say, acknowledging him, and turn to Rhett. “What’s the meaning of this?”
“Mrs. Louw sent him with us.”
My mother has never sent a babysitter before, and she didn’t send Scott out of motherly concern for my wellbeing. I’ve been in situations a lot more dangerous than this one. In any event, we’re here, and I don’t want to waste time.
“Quincy, stay with the cars,” I instruct. We may be feared, but some dumb idiot or teenager on a drug high may get it into his head to steal the vehicles or the tires.
“Yes, boss.” He takes out his gun, making sure it’s visible.
“You guys come with me.”
We climb the rusted steps to Jerry’s floor. I pull my gun while Rhett bangs on the door.
“Who is it?” a voice calls from inside.
I don’t feel like breaking down a door, today, so I cock my head at Scott who replies.
“It’s Mrs. Louw’s guy, Scott.”
The key turns in the lock, and the door swings open. The minute the cockroach sees me, he reverses the action, trying to shut the door, but my foot is already wedged between the wall and the wood.
Knowing he’s trapped, he swallows and backs up into the room. “What do you want?”
We enter the interior that looks and smells surprisingly clean.
“I’d like to ask you a few questions.” I close the door and lock it.
His eyes follow the action. “About what?”
“Where were you hiding these last few months?”
“I wasn’t hiding.”
“No?” I move around the room, taking in the shelf above the television stacked with decks of cards and an early edition of Monopoly. I love this edition. Eloff Street, one of the main arteries of Hillbrow, is still a prized property in this board game.
“I was visiting family,” he says, his eyes darting between Rhett, Scott, and me.
“Right.” I lift the Monopoly lid. All the pieces, including the car, hat, shoe, iron, and cat, are there. “Or maybe you ran because you thought after taking Valentina I’d come for you.”
He utters a nervous laugh. “Hey, I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“You took Charlie gambling, didn’t you?”
His face pales a shade, but he keeps up the bravado. “Where’s the sin in that?”
“Let’s see.” I take out the silver cat and study it in the light. “Maybe the fact that he’s got brain damage and doesn’t know the meaning of debt?”
&nb
sp; The way he licks his lips reminds me of a lizard catching flies. “I don’t understand.”
“What don’t you get?”
“Why are you here, asking about this?”
“Who broke into Valentina’s flat?”
“I only heard about it from the neighbors. I told you, I wasn’t here.”
I advance on him, swinging the gun by the trigger guard. “Why did you give Valentina a stolen car?”
“Because I felt bad, okay?”
“Bad about getting her and her brother killed?”
He backtracks until his legs hit the couch. “You killed them?”
“I was going to, but you knew that.”
“I didn’t know for sure.” He lifts his palms. They’re sweaty and shaking. “Look, I didn’t know a goddamn thing. I only did what your mother told me to do.”
I freeze. I heard him perfectly well, but reflex makes me ask, “What?”
At the same time the word leaves my mouth, a shot rings out.
6
Gabriel
The body remains standing for two beats before it falls backward onto the couch. Jerry’s corpse is staring wide-eyed at the ceiling, his mouth forever shut.
Slowly, I turn. Scott has his gun raised. The barrel is still smoking.
Anger makes my jaw lock tight. It takes three calming breaths before I can speak. “What the hell just happened?”
Scott lowers his weapon. “He was disrespectful.”
If Scott was my man, I’d put a bullet in his brain, but he answers to Magda. In two strides I’m in front of him. I can’t shoot him, but it doesn’t mean I can’t do this. I pull back and plant a fist under his jaw, sending him crashing into the coffee table.
Rhett aims his gun at Scott. His first priority is protecting me. Scott may be working for my mother, but, right now, in Rhett’s eyes, he’s an enemy. One wrong move and the curly head is dead. Scott knows it. From where he lies on the floor, he drops his weapon and raises his hands.
“No hard feelings,” he mumbles, moving his jaw from side to side.
I walk closer and stop over him, gritting out my words. “I wasn’t done.”
“He wasn’t going to tell you anything,” Scott says.
Bullshit. He was going to tell me a whole lot more, and I want my answers. Going down on my haunches, I grab Scott’s right hand and push back his middle finger. “Guess what, Goldie Locks? You’re going to stand in for the man you killed.”
Consent (The Loan Shark Duet Book 2) Page 8
