Consent (The Loan Shark Duet 2)

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.”