CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 18

[MNOTHO]

I wipe myself dry, trying to steady my hands. I need to go join Bonga and Nikky, they've been calling me for dinner. I've trembled my way through that shower, crying like a fool. An old man like me crying… but I can't help it. I'm still shaken.
I don't even know how I'm going to look Bonga in the eyes knowing I failed him. I watched every angle of that CCTV footage and I was wrong, so damn wrong, about him and Nikky. The truth hit harder than anything I could've imagined.
He came out of Richard's room trembling, crying.
Oh God.
I'm going to kill that man. I don't care how powerful or protected he is. I don't care what it costs me, I'll be his karma. I'll get rid of him myself.
If he touched my son, he'll pay. The whole damn country will come to a standstill when I'm done with him.
He's been moving like this for years, preying on people, using his power to destroy lives. Giving out tenders so he can own them, body and soul. It doesn't matter if they're young or grown, Richard will strip you naked and take every piece of your dignity until you're nothing but an empty shell.
It's more than corruption, it's spiritual. The more souls and spirits he breaks, the more power he gains.
And that stops now.
He messed with the wrong child this time.

As I descend the stairs, Nikky's laughter reaches me first, bright, effortless. Bonga is probably telling one of his corny jokes; they're trying to keep things light, carry on with the ordinary as if the world hasn't tilted. Why didn't he come to me? Why didn't he call and tell me what that man did to him?
"I don't believe you," Nikky says, still giggling.
The kitchen smells delicious as I step inside. My stomach drops when I see them sitting at the table, waiting. Every ridiculous, ugly thought I fed myself about them hits me like a slap. I want to choke the foolishness out of my chest.
Bonga looks up, and the way he meets my eyes, that small smile, that tired innocence, makes my throat ache. My poor boy.
"Dad, I've already eaten. We've been waiting for you," he says quietly, as if reading me, as if he already knows the war inside my head.
Nikky rolls her eyes at me the way she does when I'm being overly dramatic. It should make me laugh. Tonight it only tightens the knot in my gut.
I stand there for a long second, feeling the weight of everything, the footage, the fury, the guilt. I can't go to bed with this heavy and raw. We have to talk. I have to know the truth from them, not from a screen.
"Can we all sit in the dining room?" I ask, keeping my voice steady though my hands tremble a little.
Bonga's expression shifts; he knows that tone. He knows the dining room is where we talk when it's serious. He frowns, but doesn't argue.
I walk away toward the dining room, each step slow, deliberate. They'll follow. They'll find me there waiting, and when they do, I will look at my son and the woman I love and demand the truth, no matter how much it hurts.

.
.
.
They both stare at me, waiting for me to speak. It's been a full minute, just me sitting here, looking at them. My heart is thudding, my throat locked. I'm afraid. Afraid of the truth. Afraid that I might have failed my son. That he walked straight into the devil's cage and I wasn't there to protect him.
Why didn't he come to me? Why didn't he call if something was wrong? If Richard was threatening him, he should've come to me. I've told him so many times, no matter how bad it is, no matter how heavy it feels, he must come to me. I will always be here for him. As his father, I should be his safe place. He should never have been afraid.

The thought cuts deep, but at least he told someone. At least he told Nikky. The footage showed her walking into that bar and leaving with him. Nothing happened between them like I foolishly assumed. She went there because he needed her. She went there because I failed to be a man when my son needed me most.

I sigh and stand up, my heart pounding in my chest.
"I know," I say quietly, looking at both of them.
They both freeze, their expressions unreadable.
"I know why you went to fetch Bonga that night," I add.
They frown, glance at each other, then back at me.
"What… what do you mean?" Nikky asks, her voice trembling.
I exhale slowly, heavily. My chest burns.
"I know you, Bonga," I say softly. "I know you when you're drunk. And that night, you weren't drunk. You were shaken. I saw it."
He drops his eyes to his hands, his fingers trembling.
"Baba…" he starts, then stops himself.
As much as it tears me apart to ask this, I have to.
"What did Richard want from you?" I finally manage, my voice breaking halfway through. My body goes cold, even my fingertips feel numb.
Bonga gasps, his eyes wide with shock and disbelief.
"Baba, I… how… how do you know?" he stammers, glancing at Nikky for help. She shakes her head quickly, her lips pressed tight.
"No, she didn't tell me," I say, shaking my head. "I found out by myself. Just tell me, did he hurt you?"
That's all I need to know. Not the details, not yet, just that one truth. Did that bastard hurt my child?
He stares at his hands again, his voice barely above a whisper.
"No, he didn't."
I step closer, my voice low but trembling. "Are you sure, Siyabonga? Don't protect him. Tell me the truth. Did he hurt you or not?"
He lifts his head, his eyes heavy, sad, and full of shame.
"No, Baba," he says softly, his throat tight. "I'm telling you the truth. He didn't touch me."
His voice cracks on the last word, and I can see it, the pain, the humiliation, the fear he's trying to hide. He's not lying, but he's not free either.

I glance at Nikky. She looks broken, sad, her eyes glistening with tears she's trying to hold back. My heart twists painfully. I want to tell her I'm sorry, that I see her now. That I know she tried to save him, even when I was blinded by anger and pride. We've been in this relationship for a minute, but already I have doubted her, dragged her into Richard's dirty world. If Richard saw her, which he probably did, he'll search her, dig up anything he can, and I can't let that happen. I need to protect both the people I love from that monster.
I swallow hard, forcing down the guilt that threatens to choke me. I feel like I'm going to break down here, in front of them, but I can't. I should be the strong one. I sigh and place my hand on Bonga's shoulder.
"I'm so sorry," I say softly, gently, so he can still feel my love for him. He just nods, over and over, still ashamed and humiliated.
"It's okay, you can go get some rest," I tell him. I know he probably wants to run and cry himself to sleep. He stands up, nods at Nikky and me, and dashes off.
I watch him go up the stairs until he's out of sight. I groan and slump into the chair, face buried in my hands. I raised my son with love and care and promised him protection, and some man, God only knows where he crawled from, tried to shove my child into darkness, strip him of his dignity, terrorize him. Not while I'm still breathing. That bastard will pay. Does he know how hard I fought through every storm so my son could have a decent life? Does he think he can come and mess that up? He will learn my wrath.

My chest seizes with a cold, bright anger. I picture Richard's face and the polite mask he wears while his hands do filthy things. I imagine dragging him out into the light, making him account for every ruined life, every stolen piece of a person. My voice is a low thing when I say it to the room, even though only Nikky is there to hear "He will not get away with this."
A warm hand rests on my shoulder and squeezes gently.
"I'm sorry, but I couldn't tell you. It wasn't my place," Nikky says, voice soft and full of apology. "It was hard to say, and I didn't want to break Bonga's trust. He wanted to tell you when he felt ready." I sigh so hard it hurts. I want to scold her. I want to hug her until she forgets the pain. Instead I lift my head and force a small, trembling smile.
"It's okay. I understand. But please, next time don't hide things from me, Peaches. How will I protect you if I don't know?" My words are rough around the edges. If I hadn't suspected anything, Richard would have crept through our lives and God knows what he would have done.
She nods and slides closer, arms folding around me. Her chin rests on my shoulder and for a second the house feels less like a place of danger and more like safe space.
"I promise. I won't hide anything from you. I'm sorry you had to find out like this. As hard as it is, at least he didn't touch him," she whispers, and presses a kiss to my cheek. Relief and rage tangle in my chest. There is gratitude, terrible, grateful relief, and there is an animal kind of fury that will not be tamed.
"Thank you for being there for him when I couldn't. I dragged you into another danger. Don't worry, nothing will happen to you or Bonga. I will kill that man," I say, meaning every word.
She scoffs, the sound soft but sharp.
"You won't do that. You'll be the first suspect," she teases, and I let the joke land. Letting her think I'm joking is safer for now. Since we have agreed, no more hiding, I need to tell her one thing.
"Well, I met Diamond. She's interesting," I say, trying to soften the edges of the conversation.
Nikky pulls back and frowns, curiosity knitting her brows. "Where? How?"
"She came to my workplace to warn me. To tell me never to hurt you, or else my family back in eNquthu will sing funeral songs for me," I say, and laugh a little at the absurdity of it. Her laugh is a bright thing that eases the tension.
"Oh Diamond, I'm sorry about that," she murmurs.
"There's no need. It shows you have a good friend who looks out for you. She also told me about your birthday this weekend," I add, watching the way her face changes.
she rolls her eyes and moves away from me.
"Why didn't you tell me, Peaches? I thought I was important to you," I say, the hurt creeping into my voice despite the attempt at lightness.
"It slipped my mind. We just started dating. Everything happened so fast," she says, waving a hand as if to brush away the complaint.
"But you should have told me. There's even a party," I press, trying not to sound wounded.
She sighs and sits beside me, taking my hands in hers.
"I'm sorry, Sthandwa sami. I thought it would be small, me and my friends. You can come if you want, but I doubt it will be your kind of vibe," she says with a smile that is almost sheepish.
I laugh softly, picturing the scene.
"Not my vibe, indeed. But I will take you somewhere nice after that party, just the two of us. We will celebrate your birthday properly." I mean it. I already know exactly where I'll take her.
She smiles and kisses my hand. Then her face turns solemn. "I think you should talk to Bonga," she says, sincere now.
I make a small sound, half exasperation, half surrender.
"Please, Mnotho. You need to have this conversation with him now and start tomorrow with a clean slate. He's still broken. Go to his room and talk to him. Don't shout. Don't be angry. Just listen," she pleads, vulnerable.
The plea sinks in like a command I cannot refuse. A lump rises in my throat. I breathe in, trying to steady the storm of shame and fatherly fury and aching love.
All the feelings crowd into me at once, the need to punish, the need to protect, the need to be tender. I nod and press my forehead to her knuckles, steadying myself on the small calm she gives me.
"Okay," I say finally, each word deliberate. "I will talk to him. I will listen."
My heart is heavy, but there is a small, fierce light underneath it, the kind that will not let this family be broken.

__

Bonga is not asleep when I walk into his room. I close the door gently and move toward the edge of his bed, sitting down slowly. His eyes are tired, haunted, sad.
"How are you feeling? And be honest with me. Don't be afraid," I say softly.
He sighs, a small, shaky sound. Then he jumps off the bed and sits next to me, his body tense.
"I'm still scared. It was so traumatizing," he says, his voice trembling. I flinch, closing my eyes as my anger begins to flare.
"Even though nothing happened, I'm still shaken by it," he adds.
"Why? Why did you go to that man? What happened?" I ask gently again.
He drops his eyes, shoulders heavy with shame.
"You remember when I said there's a contract I was trying to get?" he murmurs. My stomach twists. Oh God, no.
"He promised tenders?" I try to raise my voice, though I don't want to.
"No. I'm the one who approached him. And I'm sorry. I just… I just wanted to have something in my name," he says, looking at me with earnest eyes.
"What do you mean, something in your," I stop myself, swallowing hard.
"I know what you want to say. That all your businesses are mine, all the money, all the wealth belongs to me. But I want to have something in my name too, Baba. I don't want to always live in your shadow," he says seriously. My heart tightens. What?
"Siyabonga," I murmur, the weight of it heavy in my chest.
"Please, Baba, don't scold me. Don't shout at me," he pleads, voice cracking a little.
"You should have come to me. I would have helped you achieve your dreams. Not go ask for a helping hand from the devil," I say, calm on the outside, but inside my fists clench and my blood boils.
"I know. I know, Baba. I see my mistake now. I didn't know. I didn't know," he whispers, shame wrapping around him like a cloak. "The contracts I was going to get from him were big projects. But after he showed me that, he told me nothing is free. And he asked me… he placed his hand on my thigh," he adds softly.
I clench my hands into fists. That man. Zoyibulala leyanja.
I sigh, heavy with love, rage, and protection, and place a hand on Bonga's shoulder.
"Siyabonga, you are my child. I am always here for you. I worked so hard for you, for only you, so you would never suffer, so you would never have to go to people like Richard and sell your soul," I say, voice gentle, trembling slightly. He keeps quiet, nodding.
"I love you, and I won't let another Richard come and hurt you. I will deal with that man," I add firmly, giving his shoulder one last squeeze.
"I'm sorry, Baba. It will never happen again. I'll focus on our company," he says, voice low. That's what I want to hear.
"And Baba, please don't tell anyone. Mom, Ntante Khutso, actually don't tell the family about this. I want to keep it between us. I feel humiliated already," he says, pleading, shame and fear visible in his eyes. That bastard. He will pay.
I smile softly, pulling him slightly closer.
"Don't worry. No one will know. But you'll have to get cleansed tomorrow. I'll take you to someone. Such things follow you, it's spiritual. You need to be cleansed from the inside out," I say firmly, protective and unwavering. Before facing Richard or Thabang, I will make sure my son is safe, spiritually and physically.
He smiles, small and relieved, nodding.
"Thank you," he whispers.
He looks calmer now, and that's exactly what I want to see. It gives me a small measure of peace, a fragile hope that soon he will find his way back to his old self, the boy I know and love.

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.
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"How did it go?" Nikky asks softly as I slip under the covers beside her. The room is dim now, quiet except for the sound of our breathing.
"It went well. He'll be okay," I murmur, pulling her close. The weight of the night starts to lift as I press a soft kiss to her lips.
She smiles against my mouth. "And that? What was it for?" she teases gently, her voice low and playful.
"Thank you," I whisper. "I don't know how I would've handled any of this without you." I kiss her again, slower this time, deeper a kiss filled with gratitude, exhaustion, and something tender that's been building between us all night.
Her hand finds the back of my neck, fingers tracing slow circles that make my pulse quicken. The warmth between us grows quiet and intense, not rushed, just sweet and slow, two drained souls finding peace in each other after a storm that nearly broke us.
I break the kiss and stare at her, my perfect jewel.

"You are Song of Solomon, chapter four, verse seven, Peaches," I murmur, before going in for another kiss.