<Always have an escape plan. Always.>

|Jadesola|

*Mature content. Also, SLIGHTLY UNEDITED BECAUSE MY ASS GOT LAZY and I recommend that you play the song above on repeat as you read!*

3 am, Saturday, September 18, 2021

WHAT?! KILL me now?

Damn, I'd just worsened my plight.

Yanking away the bloody chaplet around his collar, Richard grabbed a knife off the table, the dim light mirroring the unholy gleam of his murderous stare. With every predatory step he took, my chest heaved rapidly, blood thundering in my ears.

I bolted my eyes shut, reluctant to look at the harbinger of my death. I didn't want to die. Didn't want to be killed in cold blood yet. I had so many dreams, aspirations and people to live for. Especially the young one nestled in my womb.

So think, Jadesola. Think!

"I have one last question," I blurted out immediately, reopening my gaze, trepidation playing havoc with my bladder. Any second from now, I was certain I would piss on myself.

Standing in front of me now, the monster's blue eyes narrowed into slits. "Yes?"

"What was my father like?"

He regarded me through a curious gaze, striving to gauge my intentions but I fixed my face in a pleading guise, despite the urge to quake violently. Having gleaned his answer, he replied in a nonchalant tone, "Kincade was a good but stupid man who was willing to lay down his entire life for his family. You never had any memory of your father?"

An expression, akin to gloating, was painted on his face, like he was happy he'd stripped me of a fatherly figure.

Tearing my eyes away from that smug look, I stared at the incense blazing in the corner. White clouds billowed through, a haze of spicy, aromatic smoke. "No, I don't. My mother told me he liked to play the piano and since my childhood, music has always been a source of fascination to me. The magnificent grand piano, an object of interest. I'd yearned to play the piano, striking those keys with my nimble fingers as I created my own passionate melody. Then, writing down notes, singing along as I played a beautiful tune that enclosed me in an intoxicating bubble, lost in my world."

Continuing, I fished out all the English vocabulary I'd been forced to learn while in school. "Except that my mother shattered that dream. I couldn't fathom why but she'd forbid me from touching the piano in our house, much less joining piano lessons. That had been odd and I'd cried for days, throwing terrible tantrums but she'd stood her ground, unwilling to grant me her permission and with time, my musical infatuation faded until it was only a very slight longing."

The loud clapping of Richard's palms ripped me out of my self-induced reverie. Startled, I shifted my eyes towards him.

"Great speech," he taunted and shook his head, the knife pointed downwards at me. "It was so perfectly well spoken that I nearly shed a tear. You should be a stand up poetess. How about that?"

Bitch.

While we had conversed, I had been observing him to notice if there was any weak spot but found none. For an old man of sixty years–I'd gleaned that from his diary– he was unusually strong.

Disregarding the lump lodged in my throat, I tipped my head up and fired at him, "Kian hates you! You will never be a father figure to him, especially when he finds out you're behind the killing of those innocent children!"

"And you think I give a hoot about that failure?" Shoulders quaking, the bastard threw his head back and laughed. "He doesn't love you either. You're aware that he hates black people, right?"

Cold sweat dotted my forehead, my brows knitted in confusion. "What do you mean?"

A sneer carved his lips, menacing. "Your husband hates your kind. He loathes them with every fiber of his being. After all, one of your kind aka your father, killed his dearest mother."

My blood ran cold as I shook my head in denial. "That was in the past. Unlike you, Kian loves me and my baby. He doesn't care about the color of my skin."

"Oh, dearie. Stop defending him," he tsked as he reversed, dragging his chair with him and sat in front of me. "See, I am his father and I know my son better than you do. In fact, I have a story about his dark past. One that you might be interested to hear."

Sucking in a deep breath, I simmered, anger making my tone harsh. "What rubbish do you have to tell me?!"

He merely relaxed back into his seat, a wicked light gleaming in his eyes. "Back in highschool, Kian played with a girl's feelings. If I can remember correctly, her name was Jamila Olayinka Kincade."

I gasped. "Jamila?!"

"Yes, Jamila. I'm guessing from the tone of your voice that you know her?" The mocking curl of his lips indicated he already had an idea.

"She's my cousin."

"Ah, that's even perfect. Well, Kian bullied her because she was black, treated her like trash and then, he made her fall in love with him because he wanted to fuck her. Long story short, Jamila took the bait. She fell in love with him. They had sex, she got pregnant for him but he denied responsibility and made her abort the baby."

What?! My jaw dropped open. Olayinka's warning, the weird way she'd advised me to steer clear of him made me sick to my stomach, nausea pitching in as I understood now.

He flicked his knife to and fro, smirking at my shocked look. "If dearest, old Kian could do all that to your cousin, what makes you think you're any different? You're not. He's probably with you because of your body."

The second he mentioned body, his eyes raked over my covered chest, setting chills over my entire frame. "He wants you and once he's done with fucking you, he's going to ruin every single thing there is to know about you. You will be a shell of the woman you once were. A nonentity left in the desert to rot and die. I might as well spare you that ugly fate and kill you now."

"No," I denied hotly, agony whipping at my chest. I didn't want to believe him but my voice proved otherwise, coming out shaky, "You're lying. Kian loves me. He would rather rip his heart out than abandon me!"

Venom was tinged in Richard's clipped tone, his depraved attention focused on swinging his metal beads now. "Have you been with my son whenever he's angry? Do you not see how he behaves? Like a misguided child? He took after me in that aspect, and if there is one thing that I am proud of, it is the knowledge that we are both monsters."

Kian had never told me he loved me until that drunken night.

My heart shattered, my resolve to live weakening. Deep down inside of me, I had always been aware he was racist but I'd worn rose coloured glasses, hesitating to reason about his racist attitude. Suddenly, I wondered whether these past weeks had been a mirage of happiness, a pawn for his ominous games.

"But I'm carrying his baby. He said he loves me. He said he loves me, he fucking said he–" My voice trailed off, scalding tears spiling down my cheeks.

"Men will tell you anything to get between your legs, dear." Abruptly, his chair scooted backwards and he loomed over me, a predatory smile curving his lips. "Any last prayers?"

Terror swamped me in full force and I cowered, my arms strained badly. "Please, don't hurt me or my baby. Please."

"Say your last prayers, starting from the Hail Mary." Lust ignited in his blue depths, the sharp edge of the blade whirling through the air. I closed my eyes, feeling the whoosh of the knife inching downwards.

This was it, I was going to die.

A loud rip resounded. Disturbed, I reopened my teary eyes. He had slashed the ropes around my ankles to ribbons. Circulation returned to my legs, a sharp bite of pins and needles affecting that area.

"Please," I begged, my voice weak, faint as I struggled but it was hard. I was still bound even though my legs were free.

"The more you beg, the more I'm tempted to have a taste of what my son has been enjoying."

Dread rolled within me. Kicking forward, I tried to hit him between his legs but he dodged my blow, roaring in my face, "Stupid bitch!"

Then he pushed the chair down, a recoiling momentum that had me toppling with it to the ground, the notebook that had been on my laps, forgotten.

My knees chafed against the rough floor as I rocked against his heavy weight that pinned me down, his hands working fast to untie my wrists behind the seat, and retape it again.

"Get off, you bastard!" I screamed, in panic mode. He was too heavy, too big that even if I sought to fight back, the lethargy running through my veins would leave me weak.

Laughing maniacally, he yanked off my scarf, my braids falling into my vision, making it hard to observe my attacker. With his knife, he sliced into the habit's blouse, ripping it off entirely so my breasts were exposed, cold air licking at them. I sobbed hard, feeling violated. Vulnerable. How many times would I endure rape? First by the son, now, the father?

"You're a big-breasted bitch. Guess I know why Kian's fucking with you."

Hysterical, I wriggled in his tough hold, those grimy fingers digging into my skin. "No! Get off me! Someone help!"

"Shut up or I'll cut off your tongue." A leery grin split his lips wide as he pulled off his priest's vestment, unbuttoned his fly and pulled out his dick. The ugly rod was turgid, fluid beading on its tip. "There's no one to save you, my little nun."

I gagged at the sight of him, morning sickness heaving in my tummy. Any minute now, I would hurl but I spat at him, "Fuck off!"

"Fucking whore." Just as he reached out to grab my quivering breasts, a feminine voice shouted, "Father!"

The knife and metal beads clanged to the floor as Richard tilted his neck back, fingers curled mid-air. He asked, tone tinged with a hostile snarl, "What are you doing here?"

I couldn't make out head or tail of the newcomer, my body hinged to the floor but it was obvious from the unconcerned air Richard exuded, that it was someone he knew or even an accomplice.

"I've missed you, Father." Lust reeked in her high-pitched voice.

Richard shifted away, his dick still hard. Quick, I scrambled away, trying to cover my heaving breasts before he changed his mind.

But he paid me no heed. Rather, he picked his weapons, bent upright and adjusted his fly. "Haven't I told you not to visit me whenever I am working?"

The woman finally came into view. I blinked away the tears, stupefied. Katharina? Damn, there was no way I was getting out of this.

"I missed your big cock, Father. My pussy was throbbing at the thought of you inside me." She sashayed inside, swinging her waist. As she talked, she began stripping off, not making eye contact with me. Like I did not exist.

That pissed me off as I stared at her, intense hatred boiling in my veins at her dismissal. At her blind eye to the atrocities Richard had committed.

"You need Daddy's cock inside you?" Richard smacked his lips together in anticipation, placing the chaplet and knife on the table.

"Yes, Father." Katharina whipped off her black t-shirt and toyed with her breasts, pinching her pink nipples, a come-hither look on her beautiful face.

Ewww. I averted my gaze, disgusted to the high heavens.

"Daddy cannot say no to his little nun so I'll take care of you before I return to my latest victim." Shooting me a victorious look, the vile man succumbed to her seductive wiles. "On your knees, child."

"Yes, Father." She veered forward and knelt in front of him, her blonde hair cascading down her nude back that was directed towards me. A beanie sat on her head, her palms clasped together.

"Forgive me Father for I have sinned." With a deft move, she removed her beanie, throwing it back. A penknife dropped out of the woolen accessory.

Surprised, I roved my eyes across the red, pen knife then back at her. Was she aware of the tiny weapon?

She flicked her thumb forward, a rushing signal to seize the penknife told me my answer. She was helping me.

New hope sprung in my heart as I stealthily used my right leg to drag it towards me. My breathing was shallow, palms sweaty as I slipped the tiny knife underneath my toes and closer.

"Damn right you have." Richard's tone was hoarse, in the throes of arousal. "So what would you like me to do?"

"Cleanse my sins, Father. Fill me, stretch me with your big, fat cock as you pound out the demons inside of me. Then cum inside my pussy, your blessed cum purifying and sanctifying the womb of your dearest nun."

Jesus Christ!

Grateful–it was better her than me–I tried to block them out but it was impossible. It was very obvious that they must have gone through this role play before.

Slurping, wet noises occupied the room. She was sucking his dick now.

Watching the sacrilege that unfolded before me, I finally grasped the penknife. Inclining it forward, I gnawed its edges on the rope. The knife was sharp but the rope was thick and it was going to take a few tries for me to hack it off.

Moaning, Richard fixed a lecherous stare at me. I halted and plastered a disgusted look on my face, an action that wasn't hard.

"See how she does it? That's how you're going to suck mine." He closed his eyes in ecstasy and threw his head back.

Tuning that nauseating image out of my head, I also closed my eyes and worked on the rope, as fast as I could. There was no time to waste.

The table rattled, the sickening smell of sex and incense wafting to my sensitive nostrils. They were full on fucking, Katharina's moans mingling with the bastard's grunts.

"Harder, Father! Fuck me harder! Fuck the demons out!" Just as Rina screamed, the boom of a gun blasted, a familiar voice roaring, "Richard!"

Then it happened so fast, my capture. In the blink of an eye, Richard tossed Katharina away and flew to my position, snatching my body up in his arms. Thankfully, I gripped the penknife tight as I kicked and flailed, but his hold was iron-clad.

Chaos ensued, different voices erupting.

"Kian! You were supposed to shoot at him! That was the fucking plan!"

"I have some fucking questions to ask, Rina!"

My husband stood in the entrance, a gun cocked at us. Agony twisted his handsome features into a bitter scowl that ripped at my heart. Including the soul-wrenching information Richard had exposed to me.

"Why?!" he thundered, a pained howl as tears glistened in his reddened eyes. A nude Katharina placed a comforting hand on his shoulder but he flung it away. "Why did you kill mom?!"

As he shouted, he inched close, cords of veins sliding down his neck, a red flush enveloping his face. "You made me believe that a black man killed her while it was you all the fucking time."

Richard only tightened his arm around my neck, the cold, metallic edge of his knife against my skin, a bad omen of what was to happen. "Come any closer and I will slash her neck immediately."

He prodded its sharp edge into my exposed flesh. A scream built in my throat, my entire body shivering. Not only was that knife a huge scare, so was his naked form, his erection poking the material of the habit.

Kian ignored his father's warning and advanced further, gun targeted high. Only a few steps separated us now. "Why did you do it?"

"Last warning. If you come any closer, I'm gonna kill her." The knife dug into the side of my neck, nicking open my skin. I whimpered in pain.

Surrendering, Kian inhaled harshly and lowered his arms. "My gun's down."

Richard ordered, vile breath fanning my cheeks. "Show me your pockets."

Jaw clenching furiously, Kian did so. His pockets were empty.

"And you betrayer, shake your hair. I want to be sure nothing lurks inside."

Mute, Katharina shook her hair. Nothing fell out either.

Richard started edging away, using the walls as a guide towards the arch ahead and me as his scapegoat. "Good. As for the answer to your question, Ava wasn't worth my life in prison. She knew too much so I had to kill her."

Kian's brows drew back in sadness, the epitome of a heart-shattering moment. "All these years, I asked myself- why did my father hate me? Why did he not ever show me love? But, it all makes sense now. I understand why you never accepted me. Why you cast me away. You hated looking at me because I reminded you of mom, right?"

Richard laughed, a sound that grated on my nerves. "You hit the nail exactly on the head. I hated you, I still do. You were the spitting image of Ava, just looking at your face made me feel guilty. I couldn't bear to love you, no. At least—"

A guttural voice bounced off the wall, interrupting Richard's villainous speech, "You bastard! Get your slimy hands off my daughter."

"Kincade?" Shock registered in Richard's tone and for a slight second, his palms slackened around my neck, destabilized.

Now was the right time to strike.

Seizing my opportunity, I summoned all the strength in me and jerked the pen knife into his right wrist. Blood spurted free, his fingers uncurled as he roared off in pain, doubling down to the floor.

Swift, I kicked at his legs and drifted towards Kian's open arms. But before I could take a step forward, Richard's fingers twisted around my ankle and brought me down with him. In that moment, there was a flash of light, as a gun went off, Kian screaming at the top of his voice, "Jadesola, no!"

A/N: Hey! So we are nearly done; the next chapter is the last one and also the epilogue!

Quick question: What would you like to see in the epilogue?

Also, you all know Richard lied about Jamila yh?

It comes this week. Thank you for reading and still being here despite my inconsistent ass. I love you guys!

Love,
Nita.