Chapter Fifty Five

Chapter 55

“You both are a product of incest!” Diane hissed out the words, causing Marcus to stop punching Damien in midair.

The room was silent, the only sound in the room was the soft sobs that emitted from Ava.

“Say something,” Diane voiced out huskily, her voice shaky as she stared at Jemima and Marcus.
Jemima stood there in a trance, not knowing how to process the information she just got.

Marcus looked at her and noticed she was still like a rock. Her eyes were unmoving and her stance was rigid. The only thing that differentiated her from a statue was the rising and falling of her chest, an indicator that she breathing.

“Expatiate,” Marcus ordered through gritted teeth as he returned his gaze to Diane and Damien. Damien was too bloodied up to speak so Diane took it upon herself to tell the story; “I grew up in Mexico with a large family. I was the only girl out of six brothers and five cousins.”

Diane paused and locked her gaze on Marcus. For the first time, he saw raw pain in her eyes but he didn’t care.
Jemima still stood there, neither saying anything nor moving. She wanted to hear the end of the story.

“My father was a busy man and often went away, offshore. So he was barely around. We knew him as our father but the bond wasn’t there. Sometimes he would be gone for months and he wouldn’t send in any money. We were always hungry. He didn’t let my mother do any petty trading.”


Diane paused again, making eye contact with Jemima. It was then Jemima suddenly moved. She moved to grab the chair and sat still, waiting for Diane to finish the story. Even Ava was intrigued as she was not privy to this side of the story.

Diane inhaled deeply and continued, “One sultry evening, a cousin complained to my mother that he was hungry. It was then my mother took the decision and never looked back. She turned my father’s house into a brothel, not the usual kind. She made my brothers and cousins have their way with me while people paid a hefty sum to watch. You’d be shocked at the kind of things people were interested in. The first night it happened, Lloré y lloré. Le rogué a Dios que me quitara la vida. Estaba indefenso!”


Diane paused, realizing that she had unconsciously transitioned into speaking her mother tongue - Spanish. A language she had forced Marcus and Jemima to learn.

“My brothers and cousins were helpless at first but later on it seemed as though they enjoyed it and sometimes even when the brothel wasn’t running, they’d take turns, sneaking into my room and having their way with me. I couldn’t tell my father, they told me if I did, it would be my word against theirs and the man would loathe me. It was a small town, word got around really fast and eventually, word got to my father. He knew! He called me and asked if there was something I’d like to tell him. I said no. He smiled, patted my head, and gave me a box of pills before leaving.”

“It was after he left that I checked what kind of pills those were; birth control pills! The bastard gave me fucking birth control pills. I tossed them away and knew I was alone. He never confronted my mother about it. To him, as long as my mother didn’t have to pester him about it, he was fine. This went on from my early teens till I was in my early twenties. I had grown accustomed to their bodies. I created a schedule for myself. At this point, the number of men in the house had reduced drastically because some of them left to find better and my mother had opened an actual brothel. I never took the pill and I got pregnant.”

“My mother wanted me to abort it. It was a “sacrilege” after all. So I did what I should have done a long time ago- I ran! I stole a huge sum of money and changed my identity and I flew to America. I didn’t know who I was pregnant for. I was utterly alone. I rented a small apartment and that’s when I met Damien. We fell in love and I told him about my past. You both were born and he resented you. I resented you for what you represented- a reminder of the life I left behind.”

Diane concluded, sobbing profusely. Ava who was listening sat still, her mind trying to process everything.

Marcus breathed in, walking away from the scene as he combed his hair with his fingers. A lone tear had escaped from Jemima’s eyes. These were not tears of pain or anger but tears of relief and understanding.

“Why didn’t you give us up? Take us to the orphanage or something?” Marcus asked as he walked back to his initial spot. A small cough escaped from him and beads of sweat had formed on his head. Jemima knitted her brows as she drank in his appearance and noted that something was wrong but she kept mute.

“In a twisted sense, I wanted you both to hit through what I had gone through. I thought it was going to give me the closure I deserved. Oh, how wrong was I! Please Jemima, Marcus. Forgive me… forgive us!” Diane pleaded and crawled towards the twins in an attempt to earn their forgiveness but the chains that bound her restricted her.

“You still want to let them go?” Marcus pulled Jemima aside and queried her.

“Now more than ever! They are just a bunch of helpless people who are miserable. I don’t want to be miserable too,” Jemima answered curtly, eliciting a cough from Marcus.

“Are you okay Marcus?” Jemima queried, bringing out her handkerchief to wipe off the sweat that had formed on his head. Marcus nodded and excused himself and left her to handle them however she liked.

“You planned to ruin us, but yet here we are. Karma is a mean bitch, isn’t she? Today marks the day I set you free but let it be known that if I ever crossed paths with you in this lifetime or the next, I will show no mercy!” Jemima said, looking at each of them in the eye.

They looked helpless and worn out. She and Marcus had done some serious damage to them- they had been given an indelible mark.

“Tobi!” Jemima called out to her closest guard. He rushed in within the twinkle of an eye.

“Clean them, give them food, and set them free,” She instructed, casting in final glance at the trio before exiting the red room. It was only when she was outside that she released the breath she didn’t know she was holding.

Her mind drifted off to Alan and she realized she hadn’t seen him in a while. She brought out her phone and made a call to Alan. His went to voicemail so she called Vanessa.

“Jem! I have been trying to reach you. You have to come here right away. Alan is losing his shit. Jon’s case has worsened and… Alan!” Vanessa shrieked through the phone, abruptly ending the call!

“Vanessa!” Jemima called out but got no response. Fear gripped her as she realized she might be losing the only father figure in her life.

“Marcus!” Jemima called as she entered the house, she needed him to go with her.

Marcus was in his bedroom, coughing profusely as he injected himself with a prescription. His cough had turned bloodied and he was losing consciousness.

“Marcus!” Jemima shrieked as soon as she saw his condition. He had fallen to the ground with a thud and was barely breathing. His skin had gone pale and he was lying in the pool of his blood.

The day she decided to let go of the people who caused her pain was the day things were getting worse.

Jemima fought hard to maintain her composure as she carried Marcus into the car. She drove with a crazed speed into the hospital and called for the nurses’ attention.

“What happened to him?” An elderly nurse whom Jemima assumed to be a matron asked. Jemima could not think, it felt like her world would not just stop spinning. Her hands and clothes were bloodied and she stared as they wheeled Marcus into an ICU.

“Um… I don’t know. I found him like that. He was coughing. He was unconscious. He was bleeding.” Jemima’s response was robotic. She was finding it difficult to process her thoughts to form coherent speech.

“Is Jon here? Jon Ross?” Jemima inquired and the matron nodded.

Jemima rushed to Jon’s ward. It was a hospital she had been to so many times so she knew where she was headed.

She didn’t see Jon. She saw Alan and Vanessa. Alan was in Vanessa’s arms as he sobbed uncontrollably.

“Where is Jon?” Jemima asked, causing them to raise their head.

“Oh, Jem!” Alan called out to her, his voice hoarse. She could see the raw fear in his eyes. He rushed to her and embraced her in a hug. She tried not to grimace at the gesture.
Everything irritated her.

“He had another attack. He is currently in the operating theatre and…”

Vanessa’s words trailed out as two doctors approached them. Jemima turned to face them, one was the familiar one that handled Jon’s case, and the other she was unfamiliar with.

“Mr Ross, your father would need a heart transplant. If he cannot get one then I’m afraid there’s nothing else I can do.” The familiar doctor announced, before leaving.

“For Marcus,” the unfamiliar doctor began, grabbing her attention.

“I’m afraid Marcus has about a few hours to live. He has skipped his procedural treatment and his illness has taken a toll for the worse.”