by Poppet
Stepping, holding my hands where they can see them without being obvious, I walk around the bench, falling to my knees, bowing my head and respectfully kissing the right hand of Alpha, my father.
“It's you!” he says in shock.
Looking up into his almost black eyes, I smile, “Yes Father, it is I.”
“I thought you were an impostor.”
“No Father.”
He smiles, nodding, and Peter hides his gun back into his waistband. Traitor.
“Father,” I announce as I stand again, “This is Shauna, my angel. My wife … My pregnant wife.”
She smiles nervously, it's still radiant. Her pale skin shows off the fresh blush from the breeze on her cheeks. Her lips are deeply damask rose. They are the same shade of her most intimate kiss. She's beautiful when she doesn't wear make-up, which she hasn't since being chastised. Blue eyes sparkling happily, framed with such dark brown eyelashes, startled she looks at me for her lead. Father will approve of her instinctive deference to me.
Motioning for her to join me, she stands, one hand subconsciously holding her belly which is just beginning to swell. I can see it, because I know how hollow her stomach was before I placed my Spirit inside her. The sun highlights her white skirt, silhouetting her legs for all of us on the other side of her.
“Very nice,” Father mentions to me quietly.
As she joins my side, I instruct supportively, “We always kiss Father's right hand in greeting. He is the patriarch and deserves respect by all of his family.”
He looks down his perfectly straight nose at her, “And you my dear, are family.”
She's still eager to please me, and drops down gracefully, her spine dancer erect, her head tilted as if someone is about to capture her in the stillness of a photo. She pauses, pressing her nubile warm lips to Father's dry skin. I watch him squeeze her hand as his other hand covers her head, as if blessing her. Instinctively I scan the perimeter, smiling when I see James at a distance, capturing it all on camera anyway. He pulls her up, placing a hand on my son inside her, “A grandson I hope?”
She laughs huskily, it's definitely skittish, “We'll have to see what God gives us.”
His smile is more of a grimace, his tone stern, “God gives you a son.”
She shoots her focus to me, I reassure her with a wink, holding my hand out to her to extract her from Father's domineering grasp. She takes it, stepping away from him. “It's lovely to meet you.”
“It's only right. You have come home.”
She laughs again, this time it's lighthearted, “That is such a lovely way to put it.”
Her visage is beyond beautiful in this instant. The Spirit I placed in her has animated her body so much, making me proud. Making me feel protective and possessive.
Peter steps forward from father's blind-side “You've been looking for a home, is that correct?”
Shauna slips her arm tightly around my waist, clutching to me, revealing her insecurity around Peter. “Yes.”
Father changes his tone, understanding at which level we're still at in this relationship. He should know I have not hidden anything from him. My eyes are his eyes.
“We have one ready for you on the property.” Looking to me, his eyes convey that argument will not be indulged, “It is time for this family to be reunited in the same place.”
Despite the warning, I hold her tightly against me, ready to do whatever it takes. “Thank you Father for your generosity, but we like it here. We'd like the baby to be born here. Maybe after then, we can reconsider?”
His eyes sharpen, flicking to Shauna, “What do you think my child?”
“I do whatever Victor thinks is best.”
His smile is genuine, “You have lovely earrings, Shauna. Is that an A in your left ear?”
“Yes it is.”
“That's my symbol. Do you always do what Victor suggests?”
Looking up at me, beaming, her voice floats in euphoria, “I trust him. He's always right anyway.”
Father's eyes are intense, seeing straight through me, “Victor it has been too long. An old man gets lonely when his son is gone from his Heaven. Stay as long as Seth requires, then be kind and bring my grandson home?”
Inclining my head, I lower my eyes in servitude, “Of course Father.”
He holds a hand to Shauna again, “Kiss me good-bye, my new daughter.”
I can sense her reluctance, her hand hesitates before releasing me. She moves and stands on tiptoes, kissing his cheek. Holding my breath I pray he won't shoot her in the head. Or kick my child out of her body. I am so tense, I feel like a crossbow ready to fire.
Somehow she knows, and she slips down and kisses his hand again, before standing, giving his hand a squeeze, “I am so blessed to be with your son. And I'm so happy I've met you.”
I watch as he twists her hand to stare at the inside of her wrist. I know him intimately. I know every nuance he owns that suggests what he thinks and feels. The way his shoulders move just a centimetre down in relaxation, shows me I have done well. He's letting me have the benefit of the doubt this time. Trusting me enough to become the head of my home, without his presence.
He inclines his head at Shauna as he orders me, “Victor, walk with me.”
I shoot Peter the look of death warning. If he does anything while my back is turned, I'll kill him. He set this up, I know he did. He knew Father didn't recognise me from the footage, and he tried to have me murdered today. I'm just lucky I'm as sharp as I am. He smiles at me, deliberately taking a step toward Shauna. Why is James here? I didn't ask him to be here. Is this my day to die? Casually I scan in surveillance beyond the trees that line the parking lot. My disciples are all present.
“Yes Father?” I finally ask as he strolls toward his black vehicle. How does he manage to fly that thing around the world? It's completely indestructible.
“What are you planning?”
“Father I recall with great fondness my lessons in the snow. I will do what is right and good in Your eyes. I will not fail you. She's still in therapy. I'm still retraining her. I don't want any distractions more than necessary.”
“I see.”
I look into his eyes after an excruciating silence.
“You know the penalty. I'm watching you.”
“We have succeeded Alpha. She is the one who turned. My Spirit lives in her now.”
“And when her body predictably rejects it into this world? What will save her then?”
“My second son.”
“And which one will you sacrifice?”
I can't answer that. I'm already attached to my flesh inside her.
“If I see you hesitate again, you'll both die.”
“Yes Father.”
“You have three years to return. I will give you no more than that.”
Nodding, I keep my eyes on his feet.
Leaning in he growls into my ear, “And the next time I have to find out the truth from your high priest, I'll cut out your eyes with your own sword.”
•
Shauna:
I'm relieved when he returns to sit with me and they all seem to vanish as suddenly as they appeared. He hugs me so tightly, worried eyes glisten as he stares into mine.
“You and your father don't get on well do you?”
“I am his son. I must be true and loyal to him. I am his first born. With that comes a lot of responsibility.”
I suppose it would considering how loaded they are financially. I guess he had to come and check out the gold-digger himself. Peter probably told him I got deliberately pregnant. Oh I loathe that man. Staring out from our high vantage point over the fairest Cape. Sitting so close to the tip of Africa, the wind gusts the hair off my face.
The wind!
I did not bow. I did not break. I became the wind. I am soaring free, risen above where life hurts me. Nothing can catch the wind. Nothing can hold it, hurt it, break it.
Wind is so powerful, but it is elusive. Closing my eyes,
I relish it. This is my spirit now. This is my mantra. Vengeance may have tattooed me with wings. And now I've learned to fly.
A lady and her son walk past us and I call out spontaneously, “Excuse me!” She turns to me and I give her my happy smile. I feel like a new star has just been born inside me. I cannot describe how light and bright I feel.
“Would you mind taking our photograph?”
She smiles, “With pleasure.”
I hold out my phone to her. Showing her where to click. Leaning in, our arms about each other, we are captured together for the first time.
THE END
Alternate Ending Follows …
~ Chapter 47 ~
Alternate Ending
There is severe discipline for him who forsakes God's way;
and he who hates reproof will die
~Proverbs 15:10
The Watcher:
I have not seen Victor in over ten years. His lack of commitment to finding the impostor in Shauna's apartment has brought me to this point. I've tracked the man, and have ordered his termination. Peter has volunteered, still desperate to prove himself.
Together we walk to where she sits huddled with him. Two-timing little slut. I will speak only once. Once I have spoken, the order will be absolute. The voice is the power to create and destroy.
•
Shauna:
I can't believe it takes ten minutes to get married. All you need is a lawyer and your passport or I.D. Giggling I turn to him, disbelief still circling in confusion through the maze of my emotions, “I'm your wife.” Wrapping an arm around my shoulder, he snuggles me back against his side where we sit drinking sparkling grape juice instead of champagne, junior Victor's choice; staring out at the amazing view from Signal Hill. It's a perfect day. My life has come full circle, from utter hell, to oblivious perfection. Life just does not get any better than this. Time has flown, he should open a theme park, because he's every trip rolled into one and I think I'm still trying to catch my breath.
A deep voice speaks from behind us. “Step away from her.”
Twisting, I stare at a tall heavy-set gentleman, dressed impeccably, with snow white thick straight hair. Very Clark Gable. My eyes narrow suspiciously as I notice who's with him. Peter the prick. Shocking me, Victor stands up, turning and dropping to one knee, taking the man's hand and kissing it. “Father.”
I can see it happening, but my voice is delayed. I can't scream fast enough as Peter pulls out a gun and shoots Victor three times in the chest. He slumps back, blood flying out, my scream sounds so far away. Even the old man looks horrified.
Peter looks straight at me and smiles maliciously. I start to run toward my darling, when the expression on Peter's face stalls me, understanding what's going on, I turn, and run, straight down the steepest hill I've ever been on.
Tumbling, falling, hard things jar into my bony body as I fall crushingly onto the road below. Horns blare, tyres screech, voices yell out in frantic panic. Feeling broken, I beg the man standing over me, “Police! Please!”
The pain in my abdomen is excruciating. Gasping through aching teeth, “My husband was just murdered.”
Bleeping, endless bleeping. Dark blur comes into focus.
“Don't be alarmed, you're in hospital.”
Focusing on the woman in dark blue next to me, she smiles gently. “Is it possible for you to tell us what happened?”
“My husband –”
A man's voice interjects, “Sorry, but could we have your full name please and your residential address.”
She says, “You're fine. We're here to escort you home.”
“The baby?”
He smiles at me from behind a disgusting bushy moustache, “You are both fine.”
“My name is Shauna Ward. I was Roberts, but I got married this morning. Victor and myself went up to Signal Hill where we were drinking to our future, when an old man appeared with Victor's friend Peter. Victor called him Father. Then Peter shot him. And I ran.”
“Peter shot who?”
“Victor.”
“And who is Victor?”
“Victor Ward is my husband. Is he all right? Can I see him?”
They exchange glances before the female tells me, “There is no body to recover. There was blood on the ground at the scene in question, but at this time we have to assume he's alive.”
“And you are?”
“Officer Nancy Sullivan and this is Detective Pierre Johnson.”
At least I got English speaking cops this time.
“What is Peter's surname?” he asks.
“I have no idea, I only recently met him. Seth might know. He's Victor's brother. They work together at Ward & Ward in Rondebosch.”
“Who work together?”
“Seth and Victor.”
“So Seth Ward is your brother-in-law?”
“Yes.”
Two hours later I wish they'd leave me alone. I'm a mess, I'm worried out of my mind and they don't seem to care. They've inspected the surgery and every inch of Victor's apartment and car, and mine.
“Mrs Ward, please let us into this room.”
“I can't. I don't have the key or the codes. It's retina scan, fingerprint and digital code and key to get in there.”
“What are you hiding in here?”
“Nothing! It's Victor's darkroom.”
“Darkroom?”
“Yes, he does photography.”
“What is in there?”
“Boxes, pegs, photographs and chemicals.” That's all I saw in there when he showed it to me.
“Ma'am this is possibly a homicide. You are the only witness. Your co-operation is the only thing that casts doubt away from you. Did you have a motive to kill your husband?”
“No! I love him! I saw who did it! I'm pregnant with his baby! Why the hell would I kill him?”
“We understand you have a psychiatric record of mental delusions.”
“I promise you we're married. I'm not making this up.”
“Do we have your permission to gain forceful entry into this room?”
“Yes.”
They're desecrating what we hold precious. Like vultures they're picking him apart in his absence, invading his privacy without conscience. He loves me, I am his wife, and even I do not go in there.
I've taken tablets because I can't handle this.
I'm feeling hysterical. I need him. I need him to feel safe. I can't do this on my own. Rubbing my abdomen I try and soothe myself and junior. I can't stop crying. I've answered all of their questions. Dad had to confirm that I've been dating Victor for months. He was so angry to hear I'd married him and not told them. Which makes me look even more guilty. Why is this happening to me? Why?
“Mrs Ward?”
“Yes?” I stare at Nancy, willing her to disappear.
“Please come with me.” Oh God that sounds serious.
Forcing my weak legs to hold me, I let her lead me into Victor's darkroom where five other men cram at the door.
She holds me by the wrist as if I'm suddenly going to try and run away. I'm confused. There are TV screens everywhere. Five of them show images from my apartment. It still has three months left on the lease, so we just left it. We were going to go house hunting.
Adjusting to the dark, my eyes examine five more screens of this apartment. Turning, a sharp pain shoots through my gut. The wall is covered in photographs of me. Tied up, all of the tortures I endured, right there in full colour. Even when Vengeance poured petrol on me, when he raped and beat me, it's all here.
“Oh God.” The room spirals, the pain, oh Jesus!
I become alert with a siren wailing my ears into pain.
“It's not him!”
Sitting up, they shove me back down.
“Please madam, stay calm. You are haemorrhaging severely. We're almost there.”
I can't stop the tears. The baby! No! Not the baby too! They inject something into the clear tube. The sight of the needle strips the last
of my strength.
Beep. Beep. Beep …
“She's coming around.”
“Mrs Ward?”
“Shauna, can you hear me?”
“Uhm … ” Blearily I force my eyes to focus. It's her again.
“Shauna?”
“The baby?”
She looks away, probably at the moustache man. Her expression answers my question. She blurs again as grief grips my heart, my throat, my hope, and twists the light out of my soul with an executioner's malice.
Tissues are forced into my hand as someone rubs my shoulder, “We're very sorry for your loss.”
“Fuck you! Just fuck off.”
A male baritone interjects, “Mrs Ward … Shauna, we'd love to leave you alone with your grief, but we have an ongoing murder investigation into the disappearance of your husband. You have motive to kill him.”
Forcing down the lump in my throat as I wipe my nose, “Why would I ever kill him? He was my angel!” My voice cracks. A glass of water gets presented to my hand and I take it.
“Your husband is the man you told the police and your psychiatrist, was Vengeance.”
“Never. He could never be Vengeance!”
Nancy interjects again, “Shauna, we have video footage that we found in your husband's darkroom. He is the man who beat you.”
Detective Moustache holds up the leather outfit that Vengeance wears, “We found this in his storeroom too.”
“Liar! Peter framed him! It's Peter! Vengeance came to me three times when I was with Victor. If it's anyone it's Peter. I was alone on a boat for weeks with just Pete and Vic. And Vic was in bed with me when I saw Vengeance in the middle of the night. It's NOT VICTOR!” My voice rises to a hysterical screech. I know I'm getting hysterical. They don't believe me! I can see that they don't believe me.
“Where is he? WHERE IS HE! He's bleeding and hurt! DO SOMETHING!”
“Mrs Ward please calm down … .”