CAUGHT BETWEEN TWO MAFIAS

That one night

KERIEN

“Uhm…Jason…I… I was… I wanted to…uhm…” My mouth keeps trembling as I try to form words that refuse to come out. Those lumps that make my throat clench whenever I am nervous surfaces again.

This is how it ends?

Jason will kill me, Just like he does to those who betray him. He will tie me up, hang me upside down, and put bullets in my chest without flinching, then ask his men to dump my body along their usual quiet path.

This is it, Kerien. Just whisper your last prayer and prepare to die.

“I found this in the bathroom,” he says, bringing out a purple pregnancy test tube from his pocket.

God!

I suddenly remember. I had gone into the bathroom after returning from the hospital to double-check if the blood test was accurate. I must have left the test tube in the sink before rushing out and crashing on the bed.

“Oh… yeah… I just found out now…” I stutter, my fingers gripping the bedsheets. “I was going to tell you when you return.”

Jason moves closer and grabs my hands. Before I resist, he kisses them, softly, over and over again, like he’s holding something sacred and special. My eyes remain locked on his, but part of me keeps staring at the leaflet on the floor near the bed, the test result he hasn’t noticed yet.

“You honestly don’t know how happy this has made me,” he says, peering into my eyes.

“Thank you for helping me bring my dreams to pass.”

.He says it like someone who has been carrying a secret desire, someone who has been yearning for a child and has finally gotten it.

If only he knew...

If only Jason knew the baby I’m carrying isn’t his. How do I even begin to hide the truth? He is just here, thinking the child belongs to him talking like I have just given him joy on a platter of gold.

Now that he knows, I can’t abort the child anymore.

Jason stands up, adjusting his baggy suit pants like they’re slipping down, a soft smile still playing on his face.

“I’ll go make you something,” he says.

I blink. “Make me something?”

“The maids will do that. What would you like to eat?” he asks, sounding eager and genuine.

“Omelette,” I coo.

He nods quickly and runs out of the room like a child who has just gotten the best news ever. I lean over the bed and snatch the test result leaflet from the floor, pressing it tightly to my chest.

I still remember that day like it was yesterday. Dr. George had said Dad had only three days to live. His condition was getting worse, and the treatment he needed would cost five hundred dollars.

It felt like my world was crumbling. Even if we worked endlessly and tirelessly at the bakery for two whole months, we still wouldn’t be able to raise even two hundred dollars, so how on earth was I supposed to get five hundred?

I felt totally helpless. Before leaving the hospital that day, I stood by the glass window, looking at the machine keeping him alive, how he lay there unconscious, with those wires running through his body.

Tears ran down my cheeks effortlessly.

The path from the hospital to where I would board a taxi had changed from being quiet, lonely to a different one that wasn’t filled with normal busy people, but with commercial s*x workers, showing off their bodies like they were marketable products in a showroom. Flashy cars queuing on the street with their windows rolling down to negotiate prices with the women.

Normally, I would walk past quickly without looking. But that day, something made me stop and watch. I don’t even know why. Maybe it was desperation or even…pain. I just stood there, watching men wind down their windows, and women walk up confidently with glossy smiles like they were not carrying pain inside.

And that thought struck…

“Maybe I could try this.”

Dad was dying. The bakery rent was about to expire in a month. And in my pocket, I could barely boast of having thirty dollars. Meanwhile, these women were getting paid just for giving their bodies.

That night, there was a heavy snowstorm and the horrendous wind outside blew like it had intentions of ripping our roof off, but my mind was made up. I was doing this for Dad who is the only family I have left. I knew I might regret it later, but at that moment, I didn’t care. I just wanted to save him.

I had wrapped my hair into a bun as usual, worn a black gown that hugged my body tightly, revealing my thighs and a generous amount of my cleavages. I slid my feet into my red stiletto heels and the sound of them clicking against our tiled floor made everything feel real.

As I stepped out, ready to take a taxi to the location, the chunks of snow covered my stilettos, crunching under each step I took. Even the scarf I had wrapped tightly around my neck did little to stop the cold from piercing my skin, rousing goosebumps all over my body—everything was happening in a bid to make me change my mind and return home but I was doing this, still. Amidst the struggles as I walked, a car pulled up beside me.

“Hello?” a man spoke softly, tilting his head out of his window after winding it down.

I pressed my lips together, feeling the sticky lip gloss I had applied earlier before looking at him. He looked like one of those rich men who would take all the time in the world to negotiate prices as though they don’t have the money and leave you afterwards.

“I really don’t have time for long talks,” I say, trying to sound tough and uninterested. “If you can’t afford me, I would advise you to walk away now and don’t get me involved in unnecessary negotiations.”

I spoke like it was something I was used to , like a real s*x worker. But deep down, I was so scared for my life. Still, I knew that situation wasn’t one that gives room for doubt or delay. Dad was dying, and I needed all the money I could place my hands on, real quick.

He looked at me with a cheesy smile,

“And how much does she want that she thinks I can’t afford?”

“Seven hundred dollars,” I said quickly, hoping the price is high enough to scare him off. Maybe he will just drive off and give way to some high bidders.

But instead of leaving, he let out a short, sarcastic laugh. .

“That’s way too cheap,” he says, amidst chuckles. “Hop in. I’ll give you a thousand.”

My jaw nearly dropped.

I quickly fixed my face in the guise of one who wasn’t moved by the whooping amount he had just mentioned. I didn’t want him to think I was one of those ladies who hadn’t seen such an amount before—even I was.

And that was how I followed that stranger home, making him the first man to have me, and being foolish enough not to know that using a condom was crucial.

Stupid stranger!

He is probably out there, going about his daily activities, while I sit here buried in the consequences of his actions.

I am startled and pulled out of my thoughts by a loud scream, sounding like it came from Jason’s private lounge.

Another man has just paid for his sins with his life again.

This is what I wake up to every day as a Mafia’s wife.