Reading Preferences

THE INCARCERATED STRANGER

THE INCARCERATED STRANGER

 

Chapter 15

 

MANGALISO

 

The guy stands there, his expression earnest as he says, "I swear I don't know who was behind all that happened to you. The ones I met were just people who were ordered around." He knows he’s speaking the truth; those bastards must have known better than to show their faces to the ones they command to do their dirty work.

"The only thing I know are the names of those bosses. I overheard some guys talking that day your little brother was being tortured. They mentioned what the boss said they should do," he continues, his voice steady despite the gravity of his words.

Sage leans in, curiosity piqued. “What are the names you heard?”

"Ripper and Killer. That’s all I caught," the guy replies, frowning slightly. The names don’t even ring a bell for him, and he doesn’t understand their significance.

"Everyone wears a mask, including the bosses, so we won’t see their faces," he adds with a sigh, glancing at Sage.

"What else do you know about the bosses or the guys you were with that night?" Sage presses, needing more information.

"All I know is they deal in illegal business—drugs, human trafficking," the guy responds, and Sage nods slowly, processing this dark reality.

"Are you still working with them?" Sage asks next, searching for any sign of loyalty lingering in this man’s heart.

He shakes his head vehemently. 

"No. I stopped because they refused to pay me what I was promised. I was the one who took your brother to them." With that admission, he clenches his jaw and rises from his seat, leaving the room behind as he heads back up to the house.

"What now?" Sage asks, following him closely.

"I really don’t know. Right now, this guy’s information feels useless. But not completely useless—the names are meaningless because they’re not even real names," he replies, frustration evident in his tone. Sage nods in understanding.

"But the illegal businesses he mentioned? We can use that to find these people," he suggests thoughtfully.

"How?" Sage inquiries, intrigued by the prospect of a plan forming.

"We need someone who can pretend to own some shady business and try to make a partnership with these guys we want," he explains, looking at Sage as both their minds race with possibilities.

"That could work," Sage says, furrowing his brow.

 “But who do we know that could pull off something like that?”

"Leave that to me," Mazibuko replies, a confident grin spreading across his face. 

“I’ll find someone.”

Sage nods, feeling a spark of hope. 

“And what about that guy? What do we do with him?”

Mazibuko leans back in his chair, tapping his fingers thoughtfully on the table. 

“Don’t kill him yet. He’s going to be useful. He’ll be the one to go back to the same people and introduce the person we’re bringing in.”

Sage’s smile widens at the plan. 

“Woah, being in prison has made you smarter, Mazibuko!” 

They both burst into laughter, the sound mingling with the low hum  Mazibuko raises his glass of whisky. 

Sage clinks his glass against Mazibuko’s, the amber liquid sloshing slightly as they take a hearty drink. …

.

.

.

.

He just arrived at the safe house, having left very late last night. Sleep eluded  him; his mind raced with thoughts of Ayakha  and the worry that clings to his heart. Deciding he can’t wait any longer, he came early before heading to see his family. 

As he steps inside, he greets Sage and the guys lounging in the living room, enjoying a meal.

"Where is Ayakha while you all are eating without her?" he asks, scanning the room.

"Well, since she said she’s coming, it’s been two hours already," Sage replies with a sigh. Concern tugs at him as he heads toward the room where she’s supposed to be.

He knocks softly and tries the door; it swings open easily. He walks in to find her struggling to tie the back of her dress. She glances at him through the mirror, their eyes locking for a moment that feels charged.

"Let me help you with that," he says, stepping closer. She removes her hands, and he gently ties the dress for her.

"Thank you," she replies quietly, and he nods, feeling a warmth spread through him.

"How are you today?" he asks, watching her as she moves around the room searching for something.

"I'm fine, thanks for asking," she says, but he can see the way she avoids his gaze. 

"Come with me to see my parents," he suggests suddenly.

"What?" 

"I said come with me to see my parents. Then we can go anywhere you want after," he reiterates.

"But why would you want me to come with you to your parents? Can't you just go and come back to pick me up?" she asks, a hint of hesitation in her voice.He shakes his head firmly.

 “No, I want company in the car. Please.”

She sighs, contemplating it for a moment. 

“Okay, let me find something decent...”

Before she can finish, he shakes his head and pulls her gently toward him. 

“You don't have to change; you look fine like this.”

Her breath catches slightly as she realizes how close they are now. The warmth of his body radiates against hers.

"The dress looks perfect; I love it," he says with a smile, his gaze locked on hers, making her heart race just a bit faster.

He is staring at her , and he can even hear her heart racing against his chest. 

“Mangaliso, let go of me,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. But he doesn’t listen. Instead, he slowly brings his face closer to hers. She swallows hard, wondering what is wrong with him today. She should be pushing him away; after all, he is still her client, and none of her other male clients, charming as they may be, have ever acted like this. She never made things easy for them when they crossed the line, so why is she failing to do the same with Mangaliso? 

Her eyes close as his face inches closer. He smiles to himself and whispers in her ear,

 “The way you are looking beautiful, you’d swear you don’t have a rock of a head, you stubborn woman.” He finally lets her go. She frowns and opens her eyes, playfully slapping his chest. He laughs, the sound warm and inviting.…

-

-

-

RILEY

She can’t help but smile at his laughter, even as her heart races. Mangaliso has this way of making her feel both flustered and amused all at once. 

“Why do you always have to catch me off guard?” she teases, trying to regain some composure. 

He leans back slightly, hands on his hips, a playful smirk on his face. 

“It’s a talent of mine,” he replies with a wink. “Besides, you can’t deny how much fun this is.”

“Fun?” She raises an eyebrow, crossing her arms. 

“You call this fun? You’re supposed to be professional!”

“Professionalism can be boring,” he counters, stepping closer again, his gaze intense yet lighthearted. “And we both know you enjoy our little moments.”

She bites her lip, torn between the thrill of their banter and the reminder that he is indeed her client. “Maybe I do,” she admits quietly, surprising herself with her honesty.

“See? We’re making progress,” he says, his voice smooth and teasing. “Just admit it: you like me.” 

“Oh please!” She rolls her eyes but can’t hide the grin creeping onto her face. 

“You’re impossible.”

“Impossible to resist, you mean,” he quips back, and they share a laugh that echoes in the space between them, creating a bubble of warmth that feels all too inviting. 

For a moment, everything else fades away—the rules, the boundaries—and it’s just the two of them in their little world. But as reality creeps back in, she takes a step back, reminding herself of where they stand.

“Mangaliso,” she starts, trying to sound serious despite the fluttering in her stomach. 

“We really shouldn’t….”

“Shouldn’t what?” he interrupts playfully, leaning in again just enough to make her heart skip a beat.

 A knock at the door interrupts them. She shifts away from him, clearing her throat, feeling a mix of confusion and excitement. What is happening to her? Mangaliso heads to the door, stepping outside for a moment before coming back in.

“Ready to go? Our car is ready,” he says. She nods, grabbing her small bag and walking toward him as he waits for her to exit first. He follows closely behind.

“Where are the others?” she asks, glancing around.

“They have to be somewhere, so they left,” he replies casually. She nods, and together they head toward the car.

He opens the door for her, and she slips inside before he goes around to his side. The car pulls out smoothly onto the road.

“Your family lives here in JHB?” she asks, trying to keep the conversation going.He shakes his head.

“No, they’re in Bronkhorstspruit,” he says. She nods, processing this new information.

“Only my biological mother and her family are around though,” he adds after a pause.

“Mhhh, then why did you decide to take me along to see your family?” she asks, intrigued by his choice.

He glances at her for just a moment before focusing back on the road. “Because I don’t want you to continue suffocating in that house,” 

She looks at him, shaking her head, and falls silent. The drive stretches on, filled with an uneasy quiet. He pulls into the mall parking lot, breaking the stillness.

“Let’s get you something to eat. Because today there’s heavy traffic, it’s going to take us 1 to 2.5 hours to get to Bronkhorstspruit,” he says, glancing over at her. She nods, stepping out of the car as he takes her hand in his. 

She looks at him, surprise flickering in her eyes as he meets her gaze. She tries to pull her hand away, but he tightens his grip softly.

“I don’t want you disappearing on me,” he says with a playful smirk. She frowns at his words, unsure whether to feel flattered or frustrated. 

They walk toward the mall together, his fingers still entwined with hers. As they step inside, the bright lights and buzzing atmosphere envelop them, momentarily distracting her from the tension lingering between them. The scent of fresh food wafts through the air, making her stomach rumble softly. 

“What do you feel like eating?” he asks as they pass a few food stalls.

She shrugs, still caught up in the strange mix of emotions swirling inside her. He glances at her with that same playful smirk and leads them toward a cozy café at the corner of the food court.

*

*

*

*

*

*

*

Discussion

Join the Discussion

Sign in to leave a comment and interact with the author.

Sign In