CHAPTER 20

Thabang fans himself, sweat glistening on his forehead. His uncle is exhausted, drained, unable to remember what he even ate. He's been vomiting for four hours straight. The doctor is on the way. The heads that were in the package, Thabang had to hide them, and soon he will dispose of them. He's sober now; all the alcohol has left his system. He still can't believe this. It's hard to believe.
"Just sit down, stop pacing. You're making me even sicker," Richard says, his voice hoarse, nausea still gnawing at him. His whole body feels like it's been run over by thousands of cars. Every breath is hollow, shallow.
Thabang freezes, staring at him, horror etched across his face.
"Mnotho knows… what if it's him?" Thabang asks, panic creeping into his voice, fear written all over his face.
Richard exhales, tired and worn. "It could be anyone. I've stepped on so many people's toes… those men, their eyes are gouged out. We can't be sure if it's the same men you sent to follow Bonga and his girlfriend."
Thabang wants to believe his uncle… he truly does. But it is too much of a coincidence. Too fast. Too perfectly timed. All these attacks start right after Richard went after an ex mageza's child. His mind keeps circling back to it like a vulture returning to the same corpse.

He exhales loudly, the sound shaky, and drops onto the couch beside his uncle. His eyes roam over him with growing dread. Richard's chest rises and falls in painful, shallow breaths. It looks like each inhale drags glass through his ribs. His skin is pale, then flushed, then clammy again.
Thabang frowns deeply. This is not normal.
This is not just "food poisoning."
He makes a mental note, no, a promise, to interrogate the kitchen staff later. Someone must have fed his uncle something, intentionally or not. He needs answers. And soon.
"Are you sure you don't remember what you ate?" Thabang asks, voice tight, curiosity and fear mixed together. He watches another drop of sweat trail down Richard's temple.
"I don't, maybe it is food poisoning," Richard mutters, voice barely a whisper.
"Then I should take you to the hospital. We cannot wait for a doctor. What if it gets worse?" Thabang pushes, anxiety rising higher and higher.
But Richard shakes his head violently, almost panicked at the suggestion. He refuses. The doctor will help him here in the suite, away from questions and paperwork and eyes.
Thabang does not argue. The fear in Richard's eyes is enough. He swallows down his worries and stands, forcing his legs to move even though they feel heavy with dread.

He walks straight to the bathroom where he left the package.
His stomach churns as soon as he sees it. The moment he bends down and looks again, really looks, he knows.
He is 100 percent sure these are the same men he sent to follow Bonga and his girlfriend.
His breath stutters. His palms sweat.
His mind spirals in ten directions at once.
He wants to call Bonga, to demand answers, to ask if he told his father about Richard poking around their lives. But he forces himself to stop.
Calling now would expose everything.
It would scream panic. It would confirm and show guilt.

No. He must stay quiet.
He must wait. And he must pray, actually pray, that Richard makes the first move before whatever force is hunting them finishes the job.
His phone rings again.
He already knows who it is.
Paul. Again.
This time he does not ignore it. He answers, jaw clenched.
"What do you want?" Thabang asks, voice low, drained, irritated.
Paul huffs loudly on the other end, attitude dripping through the speaker.
"Why are you and dad ignoring my calls?" Paul snaps, rude and entitled as always.
"Paul, I have no time for your tantrums. What do you want?" Thabang mutters, irritation flaring. Richard always shielded Paul, kept him clean, kept him away from the blood and filth of what they really do. It was always Thabang who cleaned the mess, dealt with the heads, the threats, the consequences.
"There is a wizard on my stoep trying to kill me!" Paul explodes, clearly panicking.
Thabang goes still for a moment. His mind drifts away from Paul's frantic rambling, drowning it out. His focus snaps back to the bathroom… to the heads…
He needs to figure out how to leave this hotel without being seen.
"Thabang!" Paul's shout drags him out of his spiraling thoughts.
"Do whatever you want, Paul," Thabang says flatly, not interested, not emotionally available, not here.
"Do whatever I want? I need your help! Give me the number of that healer Dad uses!" Paul demands, suddenly sounding almost sincere.
That makes Thabang's brows lift.
A healer? Paul wants a healer?
"No, Paul. I will not give you his number. Stop bothering people. I know that whoever you claim wants you dead is probably your own fault. Next time, call me when it is something serious." He ends the call without waiting for the reply.

Thabang sinks onto the bathroom floor, heart pounding. His thoughts scatter like frightened birds. He needs a plan, a real plan, to get rid of these heads without being caught.
He also needs more men to follow both Mnotho and Bonga, but quietly this time, no stupid mistakes. Or maybe he needs someone close to them, someone who can slip information out without being noticed.
Because deep down, deep, deep down, Thabang knows the truth he is scared to say out loud.
It is Mnotho. He knows it.
He feels it. And he will prove it before they all die.

.
.
.

He circles around Vrededorp slowly, scanning every corner like a predator searching for a place to dump a body. This was the perfect spot to dispose of the heads. The police would take one look, blame the community, call it gang violence, and close the file before the blood even dried.
He drives deeper into the area until he spots an open field.
Empty. Dark. No movement.
Perfect spot.
He turns into the tall, rough grass, kills the headlights, and lets the engine settle into silence. His heart skips in his chest. He cannot afford to be seen. Not tonight.
He steps out and walks toward the boot, rubbing his hands together to calm the shaking. But then he notices a taxi in the distance… heading straight toward him.
He freezes.
Who are these people? Why here?
Why now? When he is about to commit a crime.
His pulse spikes violently, shooting fear through every nerve. The taxi keeps coming, headlights flashing across his face, exposing him inch by inch.
He takes a step back, debating whether to run.
But he cannot leave his car behind with those heads inside.
If the police found the car, he would be untouchable anyway… but he hates being clumsy, hates sloppy mistakes.
The taxi stops a few feet from him. The driver's door swings open.
And the man who steps out makes Thabang's blood turn to ice.
He turns around and bolts into the field, running for his life.
But he does not get far.

A burning, piercing pain explodes in his buttocks.
His legs buckle. He crashes face-first into the ground with a choked groan.
He has been shot.They shot him.
He tries to crawl, dragging himself forward, but a heavy boot slams onto his back, pinning him down. He forces his head up and looks at the man standing above him.
Now that the taxi headlights hit him clearly, there is no doubt.
Mnotho.
"Uyaphi?" Mnotho asks, voice cold and unmoved. "I wanted to talk to you and you are running. What is wrong?" He tilts his head casually, as if Thabang is merely misbehaving, not bleeding into the dirt.
Thabang cannot answer. His throat closes. His body trembles. Footsteps surround him, along with small, amused laughter from the men stepping out of the taxi.
"Pick him up and put him in the taxi," Mnotho instructs.
Thabang wants to fight. He wants to scream.
He wants to do anything but lie there helpless.
But he is cornered.
Shot. Outnumbered.
And these men are humming struggle songs as they grab him, lift him, and carry him like an offering toward the taxi door.

He knows exactly where he is going. And he knows this is the end for him.

.
.
.

Thabang does not even know where he is. They took all his belongings. The room is cold, dusty, and unfamiliar, the walls stained with old violence. The voices outside confirm his worst nightmare.
They are in a hostel. His biggest fear… happening right now.
Men outside are singing, laughing, shouting, banging things against the metal rails.
He can't even sit properly. The pain in his butt throbs like a burning knife, shooting up his spine every time he breathes. His whole body feels on fire, raw and in agony, sweat dripping down his face and neck.
His mind drifts back, replaying every decision that led him here.
He wishes he never took this job. He wishes he went to Cape Town and became the architect he studied to be, living a quiet life away from blood and chaos. But his uncle's money tempted him. The pay was too good, too easy, too quick. He even skipped his interview for the dream job because of the lifestyle Richard offered him.
Now everything is crashing down on him.
He always knew this day would come, the day his uncle's sins caught up with them. All the pain they caused, all the families destroyed, all the people whose souls were stripped bare for Richard's gain, every boundary crossed, and now the bill has arrived.

A door creaks open.
Mnotho steps inside, face blank and cold. Pure death in his eyes.
Thabang immediately regrets ever letting Bonga walk into that hotel room.
"It's painful? Your butt?" Mnotho asks. His voice is deadly calm, hands in his pockets, eyes hard.
Thabang stays quiet. There is nothing to say. He just hopes his uncle recovers and avenges him soon.
"Maseko, I am talking to you," Mnotho says, voice still cold.
Thabang snaps his head toward him, groaning from the movement.
"Your son is the one who approached my uncle, nothing more, and…"
A hard slap cracks across his face, shutting him up instantly.
He screams, the pain shooting through both his cheek and his wounded side.
"Nywe… nywe nywe…" Mnotho mocks him. "You could have stopped him. Why didn't you stop him?"
Thabang drags out a shaky sigh and shakes his head.
"I did… I did stop Bonga, but he didn't listen," he says. That part is the truth. Bonga was stubborn, reckless, hungry for a thrill.
"And why didn't you call me?"
Mnotho's voice rises, full of rage.
"You should have come to me and told me everything. But no. You stood by your rapist uncle to assault my son."
Thabang flinches. Richard's sins haunt everyone around him.
"You saw that you failed to do what you wanted to my child. Then you went and got him followed. Him and my woman!" Mnotho roars, breathing hard.
Thabang gasps, confused.
Woman?
"Don't act confused, Maseko. The woman who fetched Bonga at the hotel."
Thabang blinks rapidly as it registers.
His woman? So that was not Bonga's girlfriend?
He wants to ask but he knows better. One wrong question and he'll swallow teeth.
Mnotho crouches down and glares into his eyes.
"I was going to let you go. But no. You watched your uncle terrorize people, hurt people, and you kept quiet. And now you went after my son and got my beautiful woman followed. What were you going to do to her? Tell me."
His hand clamps around Thabang's neck.
Thabang cannot speak. He can't say out loud what could have happened.
He feels sick for dragging that innocent woman into this.
"I am going to hang you. That will be your death, death by hanging," Mnotho says, his voice smooth, deadly. "And next your uncle will follow. For him, it will be a sweet, slow, painful death. As we speak right now, the doctor he called, I know him. And he will make sure your uncle vomits blood."
Mnotho chuckles darkly and drops his hand from Thabang's neck.
Thabang coughs and realizes the truth, there was no food poisoning.
It was Mnotho all along.
"So, I will give you a minute or two to say your little prayer. My friends outside will decide what to do with you. I don't want to get my hands dirty. I have a woman I should go cuddle with, and I cannot do that with dirty hands," Mnotho gloats, laughing softly.
Thabang just stares at him now.
No longer scared. No longer panicking.
Just irritated and pissed off.
"Your precious son is running an illegal gambling," Thabang says with a grin.
He knows exactly how much this man loves perfection and control.
Watching Mnotho's face shift from satisfaction to a dark, deep frown gives him a moment of sick satisfaction.
Mnotho stares at him.
No words. No reaction.
Just silence.
Then he clicks his tongue and kicks Thabang in the chest.
Thabang falls back hard, but he does not scream this time.
He just stays quiet, staring up at the ceiling, waiting for whatever punishment comes next.

••••••

[NIKEZINKOSI]

Diamond's phone is off, and that is unlike her. I want to call Sbo and ask, but with the silent treatment he is giving me, that won't work at all. I can't even call Aunt Thembi. She will panic, and I can't have that. I will just wait for Diamond until she walks through that door. And if I knew Sika or TK's numbers, I would have called them already.
"Peaches, are you hearing me?"
Mnotho's low voice snaps me out of my thoughts.
"What is it?" I ask, wondering what he is going to complain about now.
"Your stepson has a casino. Illegal gambling." His voice carries a touch of irritation. I honestly want to laugh, but that will only annoy him more, as if I am agreeing with Bonga's shady business.
"Sthandwa sami, did Bonga tell you that? What if the person who told you is lying?" I ask.
He chuckles bitterly.
"He does have it. That person was not going to lie about something like this. And I traced his phone and his car. He is in some weird location, and I am going there to beat him up." His voice rises, louder now but still calm.
Oh Lord Nikky, what have you put yourself into?
"So you are invading his privacy? He won't like that," I say. Why is he even doing that?
"I am not invading his privacy. He is my son, and I need to know what he is up to," he says, sounding offended and defensive. "I am heading there now. I need to see this for myself."
"Just go home, Mnotho. Wait for him and talk to him properly. Not while you are angry, please," I beg. I really don't need their drama right now, especially since I am in the middle of it.
He goes quiet for a second.
"I miss you." His voice softens, warm, smooth.
I scoff lightly. This man.
"If it was not for that cleansing Bonga did, I was going to come fetch you and rest my face on your boobs," he adds.
Jesu.
"Just go home, love. I will see you tomorrow," I say as I stand up. I need to drink something to keep me awake.
"Mmh, I will wait for Bonga, and I won't beat him up. But he is closing down that casino," he says. That is much better. Though I doubt Bonga will even agree to shut it down. That boy loves danger too much. He runs toward it.
"I am happy to hear that, baby. Drive safe. There is someone at the door," I say as I hear a knock.
"Someone? Who is it? Be careful," he says, now sounding a little worried.
I ignore him for a moment and open the door. The burglar gate is locked. No one can just barge in, and security does not allow anyone in without checking.
I frown when I see Paul standing there, eyes bloodshot and wild.
"Nikky, hi," he says, his voice trembling.
I need to hang up so I can hear what he wants.
"Love, don't worry. It is someone I know. We will talk," I say and hang up without waiting for his response. I look at Paul, hoping maybe he will tell me where Diamond is.
"Hi, Paul. How are you?"
"Can I come in? I want to speak with Diamond," he says.
Huh?
"Diamond? She is not here," I say quickly. "Where is Diamond, Paul? You are her whatever," I add, not wanting to say their sneaky thing out loud.
He huffs, gripping the burglar gate tightly.
"Don't hide your friend, Nikky. I am not in the mood. Let me in," he says, voice sharp and pissed off.
What the hell?
"Paul, Diamond is not here. Please leave or I will call security," I warn him. He looks like a crazy person right now. And he is mad crazy to think I will open the door for him, a man I hardly know.
"You bitch."
With the speed of lightning, his hand shoots through the gate, grabs me by my shirt, and slams my forehead against the burglar bars.
I scream as he twists my arm, trying to rip the key from my hand.
"Give me the key," he roars.
He snatches it roughly, then bangs my head against the gate again, making me stumble to the floor.
"DIAMOND," he yells as he unlocks the door and storms inside. He grabs me by my hair, dragging me like I am weightless. I try to fight back, but he is too damn strong.
He pushes me onto the couch and charges toward the bedrooms, banging each door, screaming Diamond's name like a madman.
My head is throbbing. My vision is shaking. What the hell is wrong with this man?
As I try to stand, he yanks me up by my arm again.
"Where is that friend of yours?" he roars, droplets of his spit hitting my face.
"I don't know," I cry out. I truly don't. "Leave me alone, you are hurting me," I plead. He really is hurting me.
But he does not move. He just glares at me with dead, violent eyes.
"We are taking a drive. We are going to look for Diamond. I think I know where she is," he says, his nails digging into my arm so hard it feels like he wants to break a bone.

I should do everything he says. If I don't, he will hurt me worse. His eyes, God, his eyes remind me of Sphephelo's father when he
"Bitch. Let's move," he snaps.
"Okay, okay, you are hurting me," I say, raising my hands slightly to show I am not fighting. "I will go with you."
But inside, my stomach drops. Because I know this is not just a drive.
This man is capable of anything.

__

I did not even check my horoscopes today. I should have checked if there would be danger in my life tonight. Prayer? Bible? I hardly do those anymore. Maybe that is my punishment, that I no longer pray, that I no longer believe in God. But do you blame me? He let me suffer for so many years and did nothing about it. Looks like my mother's prayers are not working tonight.
Oh my poor mom. If I die tonight, she will not handle it. Not at all.
My sisters, my whole family, they will not be able to move on from my death. I know this. We are too attached. Too close.
My friends… Snothando with her weird loving ways. Diamond… Oh poor Diamond. She will blame herself. She will think it is her fault. She did not know Paul was a crazy bastard. He looked sane. Polished. Clean. Educated. His English was crisp and fancy. Now he looks like something else. Like a monster. Like an animal wearing human skin.

And Mnotho. Oh God, Mnotho.
I should not have hung up on him. He will be worried sick.
He loves me. He cares about me.
He tells me he loves me even though he knows I cannot say it back yet, not with all these walls in my heart. And now I feel regret. A real pinch of it. Maybe I should have been more open with him. Maybe I should have told him the truth. Told him why I am so guarded, who hurt me, told him that the reason my dad died is because of my ex and his father.
If I die tonight, he will never know. He will never know that I care about him, that I love him in ways I don't even understand myself. He'll never know because I never learned how to show it… and now it might be too late

"Paul, please, let us stop," I beg, my voice small, my head pounding so hard I can hear my heartbeat between my ears. My arm is burning from where he twisted it.
"No. We are going to fetch your friend," he says flatly, like I am a child nagging for sweets.
"Fetch her where? I have a headache, Paul. I need water," I say quietly, pleading with my eyes.
He shakes his head violently and suddenly pulls the car over. He parks on the side of the road so roughly the wheels screech. Then he slams both palms into the steering wheel, banging his head against it like he wants to crack his skull open.
What kind of bad luck is this? What kind of curse follows me?
"Paul, this is not you," I say softly, carefully, hoping the gentleness will calm him down. If it works in novels, maybe it will work now.
He turns slowly and looks at me. Not like a man. Not like a friend.
He looks at me like prey. I flinch. I cannot hide it.
Then he smiles.
A wide, disturbing, crooked smile. He claps his hands like a child who just got sweets.

"I think I know what to do," he says, sounding excited. Too excited.
I stay quiet. My stomach drops so low I feel nauseous.
"I will kidnap you," he says proudly.
And laughs.
Laughs like he just made the smartest plan in the world.
"What?" I whisper.
My throat dries instantly.
"What the hell?"
"No, not like that," he says, waving his hands. "I will not hurt you. I will just kidnap you so I can be the one who saves you. Then Diamond will finally get back with me." He laughs again, louder this time, like he is enjoying the movie in his head. "I will be a hero. She loves you. Oh wow, she will forget about that wizard."
He claps again, like we are rehearsing a church performance.
But me, I am shaking. I am terrified.
My legs feel numb. My chest feels tight like something is crushing it from the inside.
"Paul, please do not do that," I plead. I try to grab his arm gently, but he pulls away, still smiling, still nodding to himself like he is agreeing with voices only he can hear.
He leans closer to me. His breath smells wrong. Sharp. Sour.
His eyes are wide, excited.
"Oh Nikky," he says softly, almost lovingly. "This is the boundary I am willing to cross. Whether you survive this kidnapping or not, I will still be the hero in Dee's eyes."
My heart stops. My blood turns cold.
He said survive. Not if, but whether.
He is not thinking straight.
He might kill me.

He genuinely might kill me.