For the code of Promise

Already Dead

Jane’s POV

Three years back, the morning after the rocket bomb—

After throwing my gun away, he appeared from the dense forest. He walked straight toward me, holding a briefcase. I tried to focus my eyes on him as he came closer, but my vision was becoming hazy. I was lying on the ground, and I believed I was breathing my last breath. A bullet had torn through my stomach, crushing my intestines. It was the first time I had ever felt the pain of a bullet. I didn’t know how I was still breathing because, in my mind, I was already dead.

When he reached me, he removed his pistol and pointed it at me. I felt his eyes drilling into mine. I thought he had changed his mind about helping me. He looked as though he wanted to kill me instantly. I tried to shift my body, but a surge of pain exploded from my stomach. I closed my eyes. If he was going to pull the trigger, I wanted it to be quick.

Time passed longer than I expected. My eyes were still shut, waiting for him to finish me off. When nothing happened, I opened them. He was still pointing the pistol at me. Then he nodded slightly, returned the gun to his trousers, and walked away.

“Please save my life. I don’t want to die,” I tried to scream, pleading despite the unbearable pain. He wasn’t supposed to leave me like that. Either he should kill me or help me.

He stopped when he heard my weak cry. Slowly, he turned to look at me. Our eyes met again, and I felt a wave of horror. He came back and shoved his right hand into the pocket of his brown duster coat while the other held a small black briefcase.

“How can I save your life? You’re already dead, Jane,” he said hopelessly. “I thought I could save you, but you’ll die at any moment.”

His words convinced me that death was inevitable. I let them control me. My breathing became heavy, as if my lungs were submerged in water. With every breath, I felt myself slipping closer to the end.

“If you won’t save me, please finish me with your gun,” I begged, the pain reaching its peak. “I can’t endure this pain.”

Each breath pushed the bullet deeper, crushing my insides further. The agony was unbearable. I began to hallucinate, hearing voices calling my name, like echoes in a dream. It felt as though death was taking too long.

The man standing before me was Jaxon’s father, Remond. He stepped closer and knelt beside me, finally allowing himself to feel compassion. To my fading eyes, he looked exactly like Jaxon, and I even called him by Jaxon’s name. He didn’t respond. Instead, he gently removed my hands from my stomach to inspect the wound. He sighed and froze, gripping my hands tightly.

I tried to ask how bad it was, but no sound came out. My vision dimmed, disconnecting from my thoughts. I didn’t even feel like I was breathing anymore. I was dying.

“Please take care of my son…”

Those were the only words I managed to say after struggling for so long. I didn’t even finish the sentence. Life slipped away from me. I don’t know what happened after that.

When I opened my eyes again, I was in a cold, white-walled room, bandages wrapped tightly around my stomach. I stared in shock, not knowing where I was. There were three people in the room. Two left, leaving me alone with a man. I tried to sit up, but the wound screamed with sharp pain, and I cried out.

“Please lie down,” the man said urgently as he rushed to my side. “Your wounds are still fresh. We performed an intensive operation to remove the bullets from your stomach.”

He wore a white lab coat, and it became clear that he was a doctor.

“Where am I?” I asked as he carefully guided me back down. “Who are you? And who brought me here?”

Once I was settled on the pillow, he checked my pulse and picked up his instruments from the bedside table.

“I wish I could use names,” he said, checking my temperature, “but it’s very complicated. You’re extremely lucky to have survived. Your condition was critical.”

I already knew that, but I didn’t understand why he couldn’t use names. I stared at him before asking another question.

“Where is the man who brought me here?”

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied. “I’m the only man in this building. Your friend brought you here. Fortunately, she’s a doctor too. She took care of you. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have survived.”

That only confused me more. The last person I remembered seeing was Jaxon’s father. I didn’t know of any female friend. As I tried to piece things together, a woman entered the room. She claimed to be my friend, but I had never seen her before. She looked kind and introduced herself as Nancy. She said she would call me by her name as well, so I became Nancy.

I was told I was in South Africa. I asked about my son. They said Billy was fine. I asked to see him, hoping it would ease my heart, but they insisted I recover first. I trusted them because of the care they showed me.

I stayed under their medical supervision for months. After five months, I was finally able to stand on my own. That was when Nancy brought Billy to see me. Tears streamed down my face the moment I saw him safe. He ran into my arms, and I held him tightly, kissing his face. Billy told me he was staying with Nancy. Neither of them mentioned Jaxon’s father.

After that, Billy visited me once or twice a month. I spent another six months in the hospital. My wounds healed slowly. The hospital began to feel like a prison. I hated the food. I longed for sunlight on my skin.

I expected Jaxon’s father to visit me, but he never did. I had many questions. I didn’t understand what was happening in my life or who was truly taking care of my son, even though Nancy said her boss was helping us.

When Nancy announced I was being discharged, I felt both relieved and anxious. I didn’t know where I would go. I had no one in South Africa. My life was rooted in Zimbabwe, but I couldn’t return there. I had too many enemies.

I knew Jaxon and Killer had survived the bomb. I saw Jaxon’s father and Spencer carrying them before I escaped. I didn’t want Spencer to see me that night. He would have killed me for betraying him. If he knew I was alive, he would come for me immediately. I believed he thought I was dead.

After my discharge, Nancy said she was taking me to her boss. She told me Billy was already with him. I asked who her boss was, but she refused to tell me. I got into her car without knowing my destination.

I sat in the front seat, staring out the window. It was my first time seeing that part of South Africa. Nancy said we were going to Pretoria. The drive was long, and I eventually fell asleep. When I woke up, we were entering a stunning floral yard surrounding a massive white palace. Guards stood at various points, holding rifles.

“Where am I?” I whispered.

Fear gripped me. The guards reminded me of the S4S squad.

“Please don’t let this be S4S,” I prayed silently. “They will kill me.”

The environment screamed power and danger. My body tensed, heat rushing through my veins. I didn’t want to return to those lions.

“Whose house is this?” I demanded as Nancy drove toward the parking area. “Answer me, Nancy!”

She glanced at me calmly.

“This house belongs to my boss,” she said. “His name is Nancy. He will take care of you.”

“Nancy?” I stammered. “What is happening?”

“Everyone here is called Nancy,” she explained, turning off the engine.

Nothing made sense.

“Get out of the car, Nancy,” she said sharply. “I’m going back to Johannesburg.”

“You’re leaving me here?” I asked, panicked. “Please, let’s go to your boss together. I know no one here.”

“Nancy, get out of the car,” she shouted.

Her kindness vanished the moment we entered the gate. As I stepped out, she grabbed my hand.

“Don’t let yourself become his slut,” she whispered, locking eyes with me. “Be obedient until the other Nancy comes for you.”

I nodded, confused but afraid. She drove off without another word, leaving me standing alone in the parking area. Two women approached me shortly after.

“Hey, Nancy!” they greeted cheerfully.

“We’re both Nancy,” they laughed.

Their appearance told me everything. I knew what kind of life awaited women in that palace. I silently promised myself I would never live that way.

They led me inside. The palace was breathtaking—gold-themed walls, matching tiles, and overwhelming luxury. We climbed the stairs toward their boss’s room. A handsome man informed us that the boss was bathing but allowed us to enter.

The bathroom was enormous, with a massive pool coated in gold. The man swam lazily like a dolphin while guards stood around the pool gripping rifles.

I waited for him to turn around, praying he wasn’t connected to the S4S.

I prayed not to see a familiar enemy.