The Red Wife

by Tyffani Clark Kemp

  “Hello?” Mariss opened the door just wide enough to poke her head out, but there was no one around. She shut the door quickly and locked it as her heart began to race.

  Since she was already downstairs, Mariss went to the kitchen to raid the fridge. Maryanne had left a covered plate with a note that said, “I saved some of this for you in case you got hungry. Enjoy.”

  She stuck the plate out and put it in the microwave.

  The knocking came at the door again. Mariss frowned.

  “B, I swear. If that's you playing tricks, I will kick you in the face.”

  This time, though, there was a shadow in the window where someone stood. They were about the same height as B. Mariss unlocked the door and pulled it open. A snarl caught in her throat.

  “'Ello, ducky.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

  BABY HOLISS

  Mariss froze. She felt her mind slip away from her, receding into the dark place within, and she gave herself over to it. She registered as the woman across from her took notice, but she didn't seem to care much.

  “I've been watchin' you, love. I'm not afraid of your alter ego.”

  Alina stepped into the house and closed the door behind herself, locking it.

  “Listen closely, Ducky. I have something to say and then I'm going to kill you. You killed my dad. He died a year and a half ago because of what you did to him.”

  Mariss backed away slowly. She didn't have her knife on her. If she made it to the kitchen she could find one, a bigger one.

  “Right now, you're thinking of how to kill me.” Alina laughed. “I promise, you won't be able to.”

  Mariss kicked out with her barefoot and caught her in the stomach. Alina stumbled, but regained her composure and laughed.

  Alina crossed the space between them and backhanded Mariss with a closed hand. With the extra weight in her middle, Mariss was thrown off center. She stumbled against the stairs, catching herself on the railing just before she faceplanted.

  Alina grabbed her by her hair and dragged her to the steps. “Your friend needs better security. Does Boa know you've been sleeping around?”

  “Boa has more lovers than he can count,” Mariss replied, unsure of why she was giving this bitch ammunition.

  “That's true. I doubt he'd like the idea of you with another man, though, after his performance at fashion week.” She dragged Mariss up the stairs by her hair.

  Mariss scrambled to get her feet under her so she wouldn't wack her butt bone on every single step on the way up. She grabbed Alina's wrist to try and alleviate the pressure on her head. If she lost a wad of hair in the middle of her scalp, the bitch was going to die. Bald.

  Mariss sunk lower into herself until she was no longer thinking, but reacting. Darkness loomed in her vision, creating a haze over everything and distorting her sight. Her hips bumped on the blunted edges of the steps and the pain jarred her deeper into herself. There would soon be nothing left to call her own. As they rounded the landing to continue up the second half of the stairs, Mariss let her body relax and be hauled up to the second floor. Her head ached and so did her hips. It vaguely crossed her mind that she might need an alignment after this.

  They reached the top and Alina dragged Mariss into the bathroom where she dropped her on the floor in a heap. With her arms around her belly for protection, Mariss let herself be tossed about and let the bitch think she could get away with it.

  Blondie bent over her and grinned maliciously. “After you messed up my dad,” she started, “my mother sent me away. All I could talk about was getting back at you for what you'd done. She got tired of me and I can't really blame her. She shipped me off to London where I picked up this great accent. Believe it or not, I've been with your Sebastian.”

  Mariss turned to look at her. She knew her eyes reflected the cold death she felt in the pit of her stomach. She was going to be the end of this bitch if she had anything to do with it.

  Alina just laughed. “It's not hard to believe he'd fuck me is it? I'm not exactly hard to look at and I know what he likes to hear. Stroke his ego a little bit and he'll give it to you like the world is ending. That's all women are to him. Pussy on legs.”

  Mariss reached out and grabbed a handful of hair. For whatever reason, Alina wasn't expecting that to happen. She hadn't drugged Mariss, but of course, Mariss acted out of character when she wasn't herself. Blondie tugged to get away, but Mariss had a good grip. She yanked as hard as she could, pulling a fist full of hair out of the woman's head.

  Alina screeched in pain and kicked Mariss in the back. Mariss rolled over, hiding her belly and shoving the hair into her shirt for safe keeping. Alina delivered several more kicks to her back, but they weren't hard enough to cause much damage other than hurt and bruise badly.

  “I'm done playing with you. I killed your husband and now I'm going to kill you and your baby.”

  Mariss didn't see where the syringe came from, but the next minute it was plunged into her stomach. She cried out, the strange pain reaching a part of her that wasn't quite dead yet. Mariss reached out, her hand formed into a claw and struck, not caring what kind of damage she inflicted.

  Warm liquid ran down her hand and her arm and she hoped to God she'd clawed the bitch's eye out. With one more swift kick to Mariss' hip, the blonde left, screaming.

  Mariss waited until she heard the front door close before she moved. What an idiot to go out the front door. She pushed herself up to her feet.

  A severe cramp cut its way across Mariss' abdomen and she doubled over with a cry of shock and alarm. Whatever she'd been injected with was working quickly. She needed to get to a phone and call an ambulance.

  Mariss made it down the first flight of steps before she collapsed, her weight and momentum took her rolling down the second set. She hit the bottom hard, jarring her head and smacking the back of it on the floor.

  She crawled across the hardwood to the place where she'd left her phone in the living room. Mariss retrieved it and the house phone. With the landline she dialed 9-1-1. With her cell, she called Herbert.

  Emergency services answered first.

  “Nine One One emergency services. What's the nature of your emergency?”

  “Mrs. Red?” Herbert answered a split second later.

  With both phones pressed to her ears, Mariss said, “Yes, I've been attacked. A woman broke into the house and attacked me. She injected me with something and I think it's killing my baby.”

  A contraction siezed her. And she cried out with the pain and suddenness of it. “I think the baby is coming.” She spouted off the address as tears of despair coursed down her cheeks. A ragged sob tore from her throat at possibly losing the last piece of Holden she had to hold on to. This wasn't how she'd imagined her life, or how she pictured this year going. She and Holden had been trying to have a baby forever and now they never would.

  “Herbert,” she gasped into her cell phone. “Get here. Get here now.”

  Herbert was the first to arrive. Mariss writhed in pain on the floor as he pulled her to a sitting position.

  “In my shirt,” she gasped. “I pulled out her hair, and this.” She held up her bloody hand. “She might be missing an eye. I hope she's missing an eye. An ambulance is on the way. Herbert, I'm going to lose my baby,” she sobbed.

  The fear of losing her child had brought Mariss back, but she teetered on the edge of being lost forever.

  “Call my doctor. He's in my phone. My psychiatrist. Have him meet us at the hospital.”

  “Shit,” Herbert swore, knowing full well what it meant if she needed him that badly.

  “Should I call Sebastian?” Herbert asked. His tone was polite, as if he was letting her know that he would be calling Sebastian whether she wanted it or not.

  Mariss shook her head, even though she knew she would be ignored.

  Sirens in the distance let them know the ambulance was on its way. Another contraction gripped her, sending fear and pain shooting through her veins. H
erbert held her hand through it.

  “You're okay,” he coached. “You're alright.”

  “Mrs. Red?” The paramedics came through the open front door. “If you could please step aside, sir.”

  “He's coming with me,” Mariss demanded.

  Herbert flashed his badge as they lifted her onto the gurney.

  “I'll stay right here,” he promised.

  Another contraction seized Mariss and he squeezed her hand.

  “We'll try to stop the contractions,” one of the EMTs said.

  Mariss turned her head to the side. Hot tears burned her eyes as a warm liquid soaked the gurney beneath her.

  “My water just broke,” she sobbed.

  “Shit.” Everyone in the ambulance swore. “How far along are you?”

  “Six months,” she said.

  “There's still hope.” The woman EMT put a hand on her shoulder.

  Mariss squeezed her eyes shut and prayed they would hurry.

  The next several hours were a rush of lights and noises and the voices of her friends trying to comfort her. But there was no comfort as her baby showed no signs of slowing his progress. Three hours later, her premature son Holiss was born and put in an incubator on life support. His weak, feeble body wasn't progressed to the point of sustaining itself.

  Mariss body, on the other hand, wasn't stable enough - mentally or physically - to be anywhere but in a bed. As doctors floated in and out, she stared at the wall, numb and hurting at the same time. She barely registered the sound of the door opening as someone came into the room. She was slipping away again and doing nothing to stop it.

  “Sweetheart?”

  The sound of Sebastian's tender, worried voice made fresh tears spring to her eyes.

  “They couldn't stop the contractions,” she squeaked, even though he hadn't asked. “My baby is hooked up to an incubator and an intibator and an IV, but he's not going to make it.”

  “Mariss, I am truly sorry.” He came around the bed so she could see him.

  Sebastian stood there in all his glory, deep sadness and worry etched across his regal face. His normally bright eyes were almost grey and his lips were pressed into a firm, thin line. He looked haggared, like maybe he'd not slept in a while. In his hand was a stuffed blue elephant with the name “Holiss” stitched across its side.

  “Why are you here?” she said, her tone growing hard and cold. “Now that the baby isn't an issue you're interested again?”

  “Mariss, that is not-”

  “You didn't want me when I was pregnant!” she cried. “I never asked you to take care of me or my baby! You just didn't want me!”

  “That's not true!” he replied, his own voice rising and becoming angry. “I reacted badly. I reacted the way I would have reacted if any other woman had told me they were pregnant.”

  “I didn't think I was just any other woman.” Mariss turned her head to the side. She knew better than to believe the words the bitch had said, but in that moment they almost sounded true. She hated that she wanted to be more to Sebastian than just another woman to come in and out of his life. He'd told her as much, but his actions had said the opposite. That was the real reason she'd been avoiding him all this time. Because it hurt to imagine herself as less to him than what she'd been to Holden. She was no better than Brenda, thinking she could change him by loving him.

  “I know. I merely forgot for a moment. I tried to apologize, but you wouldn't speak to me and you had me banned from your building and your flat.”

  She looked at him, really looked, and saw the truth in his words.

  “I'm sorry.” It sounded like the words were hard for him to get out, but he said them anyway. He handed her the stuffed elephant. “I wanted to give this one to you in person.” He shrugged.

  Sebastian's large, warm hand stroked her cheek and Mariss turned her face into his touch. She'd missed him and his dark, cinnamon scent. Even laying there in pain, her entire lower body aching, she felt what he did to her.

  What had begun as a sick, lustful infatuation with his face and his body, had - since Holden's death - become something much more. She might be in love with this man who couldn't be harnessed or contained. He was as free as they came, and yet, she wanted him for her own. The fact that he would never soley be hers didn't matter at the moment.

  “Where is the baby now?” Sebastian asked.

  “Down the hall,” Mariss replied. “Once they were sure I was stable they gave me a closer room.”

  “Would you like to go there?”

  Mariss nodded, her heart beating rapidly at the tenderness of his suggestion. Sebastian helped her into a wheelchair. Everything below her natural waist hurt from the kicking she'd received and everything inside her hurt from the birth, but she let him wheel her slowly out into the hall and to the room where Baby Holiss was being kept.

  B's family had come and gone. At her irrational insistance, they'd gone home. She'd even sent B away for fear that his closeness might set her off. She didn't love him, not the way she loved Sebastian and Holden. Having him around seemed more of a burden than a comfort. At least for now.

  “There's a fifty/fifty chance of survival for babies born at twenty-five weeks,” she told Sebastian softly. “I don't think he's going to be a happy story. Whatever she did to me, it hurt him too.”

  “I hate this for you, May. I really do. Is there anything I can do to help?”

  She shook her head. “All we can do is wait now. They've done all they can.”

  Holiss was in a room of his own. They couldn't put him in a room with the other newborns for fear that he might catch something from them. His immune system wasn't fully developed yet and there was a possibility that, even if he did survive, he may always be a very sick child.

  Sebastian stood behind Mariss, his fingers stroking through her tangled hair. She leaned her head against his hip.

  “What I wouldn't give to wash my hair,” she sighed, his gentle touch soothing her in ways she hadn't felt in a long time. She felt herself returning a little. Even though she ached inside, with Sebastian by her side she knew she at least wasn't alone. “It hurts too much to stand. That bitch misaligned my back.”

  “Shall I have Elise come do your hair for you?”

  “She'll be mad. She just did my hair a few hours ago. I think it was a few hours ago.” The idea of pampering herself while her baby lay helpless and possibly dying in an incubator brought tears of guilt to her eyes. She ducked her head, trying to hide from him, but Sebastian always saw.

  “Maybe later then. Did you want to go in and see him?”

  She wanted to hold her baby in her arms, cradle him against her chest, but she knew that couldn't happen.

  “You can go in and talk to him,” Sebastian prodded. “He needs to hear his mother's lovely voice.”

  Mariss smiled. “You'll have to help me. We have to put on those suits so we don't carry germs in.”

  “Right. Shall I call a nurse?”

  Mariss pointed to the button on the wall. Sebastian punched it and a nurse came a few moments later.

  “Oh. Mr. Boa,” she fawned upon seeing Mariss leaning against him. Sebastian's arms wrapped protectively around her, to keep her from falling. “We didn't know you were here.”

  “I came to see to Mrs. Red. We'd like to see Holiss. Now, please,” he said sternly when Nurse Mary didn't look like she was going to move any time soon.

  “Yes, right.”

  Sebastian helped Mariss into her suit. It covered her from head to toe and a mask covered her face. When he got into his, she couldn't help but giggle.

  “You think this is funny, do you?”

  “I wish I had a picture.”

  “No one would know it was me.”

  “You think they can't tell by your eyes who you are?”

  Sebastian scoffed. “I'm not the only man who has blue eyes, May.”

  “No, but it's not just your eyes. It's the eyebrows too.”

  “What are you trying t
o say about my eyebrows?”

  “Your bone structure is to die for,” she continued. She gripped the nearby table.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Boa?”

  “Yes, sweetheart?”

  Mariss watched as the nurse snapped a picture of him on her cell phone.

  “For the hospitals next newsletter,” she said. With a wink at Mariss, she turned and walked away.

  “Sneaky wench,” Sebastian muttered.

  “Wench is it?”

  Sebastian shrugged as he slipped his arms around her again.

  “We have to be cleansed,” she told him. His eyes radiated concern and she knew, even though she couldn't see, that his brow was creased from worry.

  “What?” he asked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  Mariss shook her head. “I was just thinking that I know your facial expressions, even if I can't see them.”

  He nodded. “As I do with you.”

  Mariss reached around him and pressed a button on the wall just inside the door. A disinfectant shot from the ceiling and filled the room before it was sucked out.

  “We can go in now?”

  Mariss nodded and pulled the door open.

  Holiss lay in his incubator, his chest rising and falling thanks to the ventilators. There was no fat on his poor little body yet. Just looking at him made Mariss want to sob.

  “Hello, Holiss,” she whispered.

  The baby's body twitched and turned toward the sound of her voice. Mariss gasped.

  “Ah, see? He knows you.”

  Tears streamed down her cheeks, but she ignored them.

  “I'm so sorry this happened to you,” she continued, unable to get the words out without sobbing. “I promise, she won't get away with this.” Sebastian's arms tightened around her waist. “I promise, no matter what happens, she will pay for what she's done to you. I love you, little one.”

  Sebastian pressed his lips to the top of her head. Mariss turned her face into his chest and started crying all over again. This time, they were tears of rage. She'd make sure that woman got what was coming to her.

  “Tell me what happened, sweetheart,” Sebastian coaxed.