His Substitute Wife... My Sister Book Two

by Sylvia Hubbard

  Cheyenne lips flinched as her nose flared in rage. “You live for this day, sister dear, because it’s going to be your last. Take her out to the spot, Joanie, and put a bullet in her head with Chyna’s gun.”

  Chapter 45

  Standing to her feet feeling like her insides were about to fall out her body, she looked painfully over at her children. Charisse wanted to fight. The gun pressed against the back of her neck made her want to, but it could go off, miss her and hit the babies.

  With shoulders slumping in defeat, she said piteously, “You’ll never be a good mother to them.”

  “I’ll be the best mother to them. I’ll be the mother we never had,” Cheyenne said exultantly. “You see, Charisse, this whole plan wasn’t just for Parker to be a father. It was for my own sanity too. I’ll love them like my own. They’ll never even know you. They’ll worship the ground I walk on and won’t care who brought them in the world. They’ll call me Mommy.” She held her chest proudly as if she had just given birth to the Son of God. “They’ll call me Mommy, Charisse,” she said again, just to rub salt on the wound.

  “Move it!” Joanie ordered, pressing the gun harder now on her back.

  Cheyenne gave Joanie last minute directives, “Don’t forget to make sure you leave the gun. Make it look good, follow instructions, you fat retard, and then put the body where I told you to.”

  Holding her stomach tightly, Charisse looked over at her children one last time before Joanie shoved her out of the cabin. She had to find a way to save herself.

  She didn’t want to die.

  ***

  Coming to, Parker straightened up and looked desperately around the room before his vision could even focus. He expected to see Charisse’s beautiful face over him, but it wasn’t her he was looking up at.

  Kimberly’s sweet face looked over him with concern. “You’re at the hospital, Parker.”

  He was sitting in a lounge chair with his feet up. Across from him someone was lying in the hospital bed with machines all around. A plastic sheet covered the entire bed and the body was wrapped from head to toe in heavy gauze. There was a weak heartbeat that came from the machine and he could see that the blood pressure level was low as well. The room smelled of burned meat and made his stomach instantly sick. He also noted that that stomach of the person in the bed was flat.

  “Charisse?” he asked engulfed in grief.

  Sadly, Kimberly shook her head. “It’s Chyna. She was shot in the right shoulder and they found her near the entrance of the home. They believe she threw herself off the top floor where forensics found traces of blood. It was the only floor in the house that wasn’t drenched in gasoline.”

  Standing up, he briefly put his hand over his mouth to breathe something other than the smell of rotting burned flesh. “How long have I been out?”

  “Almost half the day. They were almost thinking about admitting you because Mandingo might have given you a concussion when he hit you across the head with his huge fist. But it was the only way to stop you from hurting yourself.”

  He touched his head and winced. “I take it he doesn’t know how to be gentle.”

  “He wouldn’t know how even if you paid for it,” Kimberly said coming beside him as he walked over to the bed stopping right at the plastic curtains around the bed. “She has third degree burns to over sixty percent of her body.” She held back a sob. “But she asked for you and your presence here even though you’re passed out seems to give her some kind of comfort. I only stayed to make sure you were all right. They usually don’t allow so many in ICU.”

  “And Charisse?” he asked again.

  “They’ll still searching the rubbish, but no body has been found."

  He shuddered in misery. “And my assistant. Did they find her anywhere?”

  “They found your administrative assistant in the back yard with minor burns from debris and a bump on her head. She’s downstairs in the emergency room and the only thing we could get out of her before Mandingo terrified her with his anger was that when she tried to get Chyna to get in the car to go to the salon, Chyna demanded to go to the house and then everything went black. But she described Chyna as having a scar above the bridge of her nose.”

  Understanding of what Kimberly was saying registered quickly and he looked at the body lying in the bed. “Has she told anyone anything?”

  “Nothing. Mandingo was here for a long while waiting on anything but she didn’t say anything to the investigators who questioned. She just kept asking for you.” Kimberly pointed to the uniform on a counter. “The nurse said if you have to go into the plastic, please call her and put that on so you won’t hurt her.”

  “I wouldn’t hurt her,” he said disgustedly.

  “Not in that way, Parker. She’s just in a lot of pain right now and then only thing keeping her calm are the drugs.”

  He went over to put on the hospital coverall, the cap, gloves and the mouthpiece.

  By that time the nurse Kimberly had summoned had arrived and gave him a briefing on Chyna’s condition. “It’s a miracle she’s still alive,” the nurse said amazed. “No one could have lived this long with that much damage to their body.” She unzipped the curtains so Parker could step through.

  The machines seemed louder in there as he slowly walked over to the side where there was a little room for him to squeeze in and be close to her.

  “Chyna,” he said in his serious voice.

  Her face, though wrapped in bandage, seemed swollen and he was bothered by the fact by the scratches on her face.

  It took a moment for her one good eye to register to the face she was seeing and a moan rumbled from her lips in relief. “P-Parker, that you, fo’real?” Her voice was only a whisper, but he could hear respite in her tone.

  “The drugs may make her speech a little slurred,” the nurse explained.

  “Yes, Chyna. Who did this?”

  “S-sister,” she said weakly. “She took everything… the bank account… she tricked us all… d-don’t believe the innocent…” Chyna drifted off for a brief moment.

  Parker was confused. “Chyna! Chyna! Who are you talking about? Charisse or Cheyenne?” he asked desperately.

  There was no answer and Chyna’s eyes had closed, while her body relaxed.

  “She could have fallen asleep. We have a lot going through her system, but she could still be in a lot of shock. Something could be said in delirium from everything that’s happened to her.”

  Just as he was about to step away to give her some more rest, he heard her whisper his name in desperation.

  “D-Don’t leave… I-I have to tell you…where she is…”

  “Charisse? You know where she is?”

  “C-Cabin.”

  “Who shouldn’t I believe, Chyna? Who did this to you?”

  Chyna wept forlornly. “She made me …she made me think she wouldn’t hurt anyone… n-not like this…s-she tortured me…”

  “Who?” he asked desperately.

  A burst of strength seemed to seize her and she reached up and grabbed at his coveralls, rising up partially. “Don’t believe her! Whatever you do Parker - she’s a liar! She stole the money! She stole the baby! She stole you! She … she planned this all along! All along… she manipulated all of us! All of us! Just for revenge!”

  Suddenly she released him and fell back on the bed. It looked as if she had passed out again. The heart monitor slowed more and Parker looked back at Kimberly for help.

  Her movement had even shocked the nurse.

  “Call her name, Parker,” Kimberly ordered.

  “Chyna?” He didn’t want to shake her. “Who did this to you? Chyna!”

  Slowly, Chyna came to again and sobbed, “C-Ch…..” Her lips tremble. “S-She don’t …deserve…Oh gawd! It hurts! Oh gawd! Help!”

  The nurse came over and turned something on the machine. “Maybe you should leave Mr. Mills.”

  Chyna’s blood pressure had started to rise.

  He ignored the
nurse. “Who did this to you, Chyna?” he said in a commanding tone.

  “I loved you Parker!” Chyna screamed. “I-I… I couldn’t love… I couldn’t love you … the way you ...you … you ...” Each word was forced. “You should have been loved…”

  “Chyna. Tell me who did this to you?!” he demanded.

  She looked up at his as if she had not seen him in a long time. Tears welled in her eyes. “I-I told y-you where …she...she was.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

  For some reason, Parker needed her to say it and he was so close to shaking her for the answer. “T-Tell me again.”

  “C-Charisse… Parker, save the one you… love. Save…” The rest was garbled as the heart beat monitor made a steady tone. The nurse pushed Parker away and pushed an alarm button.

  Parker was left baffled as Chyna died unsure if he could believe anything he had invested his heart into for the past nine months.

  ***

  This time Joanie told her to sit in the backseat on the passenger side. Charisse was soaked in blood and fluid, but Joanie didn’t seem to care.

  “It’s all part of the plan,” Joanie said with a wicked smirk on her face.

  Charisse glanced back at the cabin wishing she could have thought of something more to stall, but she knew there was nothing else to make Joanie stay here and they might be inclined to change the plan and shoot her there.

  Shivering as she got in the car out of the cold, Charisse was almost tempted to ask Joanie for the thick coat and sweater that she wore over another thick shirt. As smoothly as possible despite the pain and exhaustion she reached down and grabbed the knife and then wrapped her arms around her stomach, as was her usual sitting position.

  She was still experiencing some minor spasms, but with no medical attention to seek, she didn’t know if this was aftermath or other consequences. Determining that it could only be aftermath, she tried to shake the feeling that something else was going on inside of her.

  “You make a move, bitch, and I’ll shoot you through this seat,” Joanie threatened.

  “You can let me go, Joanie,” she whispered empathically.

  “Yeah right and miss out spending Parker’s money cause I know you ain’t gonna let your sister just keep him and go along with her plan to keep the babies.” She imitated a cackle like Cheyenne. “Y’all got greed running through ya like the blood that flow through your veins and y’all ain’t sharing with each other cause you hate each other.”

  “And this doesn’t show your greed too? You’re staying around her for the materials and money she gives you, but is that really enough for you Joanie? Was it really all worth it?”

  “Naw!” Joanie disputed. “I love Cheyenne. I love her like a sister and she didn’t deserve none of that shit your momma did to her.”

  “None of us deserved anything that woman did to us.” She looked at the bare seat and got the craziest idea. They’d search this car. Even if this was a rented car which she wasn’t sure of, someone would find it and they’d have to see that she was in there.

  She looked ahead and kept the conversation going as she reached in her pants and winced at the pain, but when she removed her hand, she grimaced seeing there was still blood and fluid between her legs. Using the liquid, she wrote on the side of the passenger door hoping even if they wiped it down someone could be smart enough to see the trace of blood and see the message she left.

  “By why did you choose to stay loyal to Cheyenne?”

  Joanie looked up in the mirror to see her briefly, before looked back at the road. “Cause my daddy used to molest me without my mother knowing and Cheyenne stood up for me and told him if he touched me again she’d tell because I was too scared to.”

  Quietly in her most menacing voice, she asked, “I distinctly remember if that was back when I was eight my father found a little over five hundred dollars under her mattress and she said she got it from your father for helping to tutor you.”

  Joanie almost drove off the road trying to look back at Charisse. “Shut up! You’re a liar, Charisse Sheridan. You made that up!”

  “I didn’t, Joanie,” she said coolly. “And if you know me you know I can’t lie well.”

  Joanie wiped her eyes from the tears that had started to form as she tried to focus on the icy road. “S-She told me…” There seemed to be a sob in her chest she was holding back. “She told me, he gave her a hundred and she gave me fifty.”

  A harder spasm hit her stomach and this was different from the delivery pains she had just experienced. She could feel a flushing in her system and she was unable to stop as the seat became soaked in what she could only determine as more blood and fluid. What the hell was happening to her?

  To get her mind off of it, she asked Joanie. “Has Cheyenne given you everything she’s promised?”

  Joanie looked up in the mirror again as she drove and the doubt in her eyes told Charisse she could sway Joanie if she just said the right things. “Y-Yeah… some stuff Cheyenne promised, I got.”

  “But how long did you have to wait for it, Joanie? Did you really say you’re going to share it all?”

  “Yeah, now shut up!” Joanie was driving down a country road away from the cabin – away from civilization. The last building Charisse had seen was an old burned out barn on its last leg ten minutes into their drive.

  Everything in her wanted to fall asleep, but she couldn’t because she didn’t want to sleep through all this.

  “I want to live. I want to live,” her voice repeated over in her head and she gripped the knife tighter with hope that she would see her babies and Parker. Another pain shot through her body and she doubled over breathing through this. It had to been an aftermath pain because she knew there was nothing there. Just to be sure, she pressed up against her stomach hard despite the agony and felt more fluid and blood soak her clothes and the car seat.

  Oddly her knuckles moved over a thick lump and she knew this was not her intestine.

  “What are you doing back there?” Joanie asked suspiciously.

  “I’m not feeling well.”

  “Don’t worry. All that will be over soon. We’re almost there.”

  Joanie pulled off the dirt road and started driving down a pathway that was barely cleared. The car wobbled and the pan in her stomach worsened. She needed something else to think about other than the aftermath of pregnancy pains that were starting to feel so close to childbirth pains.

  In all her books that she read, she never heard of something like this happening. She had passed the afterbirth, so why should she still be having intense spasms like this?

  “W-What’s the plan?” she asked.

  “What?” Joanie questioned.

  Charisse needed to talk in order to get her mind off the pain she was feeling because the thought that she could be hemorrhaging out and that would mean she was dying a very slow death. “What is the p-plan? For m-me.”

  “I’m going to kill you. Shoot you in the head and make it look like you did it.” She stopped in a thick cluster of trees and got out of the car popping the trunk.

  Looking around the seat quickly, Charisse wasn’t fortunate that Joanie wasn’t stupid enough to leave the gun, but there was an extra jacket in the front seat. She snatched this quickly and put it so she could have the knife closer, but not on hand. There wasn’t anything else around the car to utilize.

  “Get out!” Joanie ordered, snatching the door abruptly while aiming the gun at her. “What did you do to the car?”

  She didn’t even try to lie; she just looked up at Joanie as innocently as possible.

  “Get out!”

  Holding her stomach tightly, Charisse pushed her way out of the car and almost collapsed because her legs had felt like they were going to sleep. It was so difficult to stand up straight and the world felt like it was spinning. All she saw was the forest and nothing else.

  “Y-You don’t think I’m going to kill m-myself. Do you, Joanie?” she asked weakly moving in the d
irection over to a tree barely able to stay upright, but pulling strength she didn’t know she had from her soul to stay lucid. She leaned against the tree and shivered using the branches to hold her up.

  “I’ll make it look good enough. Now stay ‘cause if you try to run and I’ll just shoot you in the back and put you in the hole too,” Joanie sneered, tucking the gun in her front.

  Charisse saw there was a hole in the ground in front of the car. “How would I shoot myself and then bury myself, Joanie?” she asked stupidly.

  Pointing at the trunk, Joanie showed her that there had been a plastic cover where Charisse had laid on filled with the remnants from Charisse’s birth. “I gotta bury this and then take you over there into the woods to do it.”

  Incredulously, Charisse asked during a hard spasm, “This w-was Cheyenne’s plan?”

  “She wanted me to walk a mile or so,” Joanie said, huffing even though she hadn’t done hardly anything, except to carefully gather the material and take the plastic over to dump in the hole. “I-I ain’t going that far.”

  When her back was turned, Charisse put her hand casually in her pocket and just waited for Joanie to step closer. If she could press her back against the tree and charged forward, she could get the blade somewhere vital and then give herself time to get back down to the dirt road and follow that to somewhere or hope that someone came by.

  “Get on your knees,” Joanie ordered, pulling the gun back out and aiming it at her and coming close because to make it look good, she would have to press the gun up against her head.

  Charisse prepared to lunge and prayed she could push Joanie enough to lose balance, press the car forward and then cause serious damage to let everyone know she did fight before she died.