The Sick Wife
Page 17
“Milla would appreciate the jokes,” Veronica says. “Let’s just keep positive and focused, and there’s no harm in smiling on a road trip. I just want to find my friend. Fast. So, it’s awesome that Gabriel can drive, but if he doesn’t feel comfortable smashing that gas pedal, I would like to get behind the wheel and use some real speed.”
* * *
“Wow,” Veronica says as we step into the Hamptons house—Gabriel broke a window to get in. “I was thinking that Mike may have married Milla because she just gained a small inheritance… but she doesn’t have money like this.”
“I don’t think it’s about the money. Let’s split up and look for her,” I tell them, but before I can turn around, Gabriel is already gone.
Veronica moves in the opposite direction, and I follow her, limping with my cane. I’m the most useless, physically. But I’m still going to try.
The giant house is empty. We throw doors open, shouting for Milla. Yes, it’s not legal, but none of us care. We yell and run through the entire house until we’re exhausted. Then Veronica and I head back to the car in defeat. Gabriel is still double checking every corner of the house.
“Do you need an arm?” Veronica asks, offering me support as I hobble to the car.
“Thank you,” I tell her, trying to conceal how winded I am. “This is the most walking I’ve done in months… running through the airports was hard enough. But searching massive mansions—at least I’m getting some steps in.”
“I’m sorry about what happened to you at our hospital,” Veronica says with a frown. “I have never seen it with my own eyes… I’ve read stories about it happening elsewhere, but you never think it’s going to happen at home. I just can’t believe that Mike would do that to you.”
“Which part?” I ask her.
“All of it,” she answers. “I know a few stories where women who were in comas for years ended up getting pregnant. But I never imagined that Mike…”
I shudder at the memory. “This is going to be a horrible thing to say, but I’m so glad the pregnancy wasn’t viable. If it was a normal, healthy pregnancy… I think Gabe could have convinced me to keep it.”
“Would he have wanted that?” Veronica asks.
“I don’t know. But I think so, yes. He wants a child so badly.”
“So does Milla,” Veronica says. “She loves coming over to play with my daughter. They get along really well. I don’t want to have to tell my little girl that something happened to her Aunt Milly.”
The cute nickname makes my heart ache. “We’ll find her. What’s the next spot?”
“There are a few other spots nearby,” Veronica says. “But I have another idea of where he could take her. It’s this place owned by one of the other doctors, where everyone likes to go on vacation in Vermont…”
Chapter 42
Milla
“I’ve got bad news for you, Milla,” Mike says softly. “The police are looking for us, so we’re going to have to move to a different location.”
“The police? Why?” I ask him hoarsely. This news gives me hope.
“I don’t know, but I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding,” Mike answers. “Did you talk to anyone? Is anyone looking for you? Was there anywhere you were supposed to be?”
“I don’t know,” I tell him groggily. I almost say Veronica’s name, but I don’t want to put her in any sort of danger. “Probably my landlord. Or superintendent. If they went into my apartment to do repairs—they would have noticed that my cactus hasn’t been watered. That’s sus.”
Mike stares at me in confusion.
I giggle. “Highly suspicious cactus. A sus cactus.”
Today’s cocktail of drugs have me slurring my words and feeling high. I’m laughing a lot, and missing my cactus. I shouldn’t have said all those mean things about my good little plant not being enough company for me. Not being as soft and huggable as a person. Lots of people in the world don’t have a cactus to love—I know I’m lucky. Also, when humans are like Mike, who wouldn’t prefer to spend their days with a cactus? It’s clearly the superior being.
Besides, Mike shoves needles into me all the time. I would rather hug my cactus.
If I get out of this alive, I’m going to cuddle the shit out of my cactus.
“Okay,” Mike says slowly. “I’m just going to pack an overnight bag and get us into the car.”
Car. Hmm. I’m confident that if I can just try to hang on to some bit of sanity… I can make some sort of move to get free. Maybe I can cause a car crash and escape.
Or do I want to be a good and patient girl and wait for the police to find me and help me?
The thought makes me laugh so much that I hiccup.
No. They should have found me by now. What if they never find me?
I need to smash things. Make something go boom. Do anything at all on my own. I need to try.
* * *
I am in the passenger seat now, and cars are passing by in every direction like a blur of shiny color. I really don’t know where we’re going, and I can’t even clearly see what’s happening around me. Mike injected me with more drugs, but thankfully, they haven’t completely knocked me out. I think this is a pretty rare opportunity.
He hasn’t let me out of the house in days. Most of the time, I can’t even move from the bed.
A car is a very small, confined space. A fast-moving vehicle, and if I can just time my attack correctly… I can cause a crash and get us both sent to the hospital. But can I even lift my arm enough?
I can’t even see what’s happening around me.
If I do this wrong, I could accidentally shove us into oncoming traffic, and create a head-on collision so bad that we are killed instantly. Along with the passengers in the other vehicle. As a nurse, I’ve seen enough mangled bodies after serious wrecks. There could be kids involved. I could cause lots of innocent people to be hurt.
And then who would be the real monster?
The idea makes me pause. I don’t want to die, and I don’t want anyone else to die. Or even be injured unnecessarily. Is it actually wisest for me to just wait for the police?
But I’m so sick of waiting. I’ve done so much waiting in my life.
I waited around for Gabriel, and I lost him. Sometimes you need to stop waiting and take action. And risk being hurt.
So, I try to wait and wait for the right moment. And I try hard to focus on what’s going on around me. It’s useless. The world is a blur. I give up on perfect timing and I reach out to grab the steering wheel and shove us into the path of a turning vehicle.
But when I lift my arm, with all the force I can manage, my fingers just barely graze the steering wheel. My arm falls on the center console, lifeless.
I’m still too heavily sedated to do anything.
Dammit.
* * *
By the end of our drive, when Mike starts carrying our bags into the house, the sedatives are wearing off slightly. I am able to see more clearly, and shuffle around in the passenger seat just a tiny bit. If I can just calculate my moves correctly… I wait until he has entered the house, before I push open the passenger door, and try to make a run for it. My legs crumple under me, and I fall to the ground.
Luckily, it’s only grass, so I’m not too bruised.
I use my upper body to pull myself across the grass and to the main street. I try to crawl with my elbows, military style, and then push myself upright to try to wave down a passing vehicle. But there aren’t any cars. We’re in the middle of nowhere. I have to keep moving. I turn back to the house and I see Mike has exited again.
Crap. I have no choice. I try to run, sloppily, in the direction of the nearest house. But it’s too far away. “Help!” I shout out, trying to alert the neighbors. “Help!”
But Mike is running too, and he’s a lot faster and stronger—he tackles me to the pavement and I hit my head on the hard ground. Everything goes black.
* * *
I wake up to very unpleasant sensation
s of someone pushing my body around. When I am able to peel my eyes open, I see that Mike has tied a rope around my ankle to keep me in the bed. It also feels like he increased the dosage. Dammit.
He is now lying naked beside me, and tending to the bruise on my head. “Why did you do that, Milla?” he asks me. “Why did you try to run?”
I am feeling groggy already, and it’s difficult to respond. “I hate the drugs,” I whisper.
“I thought we were having fun together,” he tells me, and he seems hurt. “You’re just like my ex-wife. So disappointing.”
When he shoves another needle into my arm, I am afraid. I can barely move already... He has been dosing me with a new substance every few hours. I am afraid that Mike will make a mistake and pump my body full of so many sedatives that my heart stops, or I can no longer breathe.
Every time the needle touches my skin, I’m afraid it will be the last time. Every time I’m conscious and lucid for a few minutes, able to perform basic tasks and function normally, I worry that it will be the last time. This is not a controlled environment like the hospital. I’m not hooked up to a monitor.
It would be so easy for him to make a mistake and go too far.
He pulls his clothes on and leaves.
I will have to wait for another moment… I hope there is one. It hurts that I’ve decided to fight for my life, but I no longer seem to have the opportunity or the strength. Have I lost my chance?
Am I running out of time?
Mike seems to be even more excited by the situation, and he’s enjoyed my body a few times today while we’ve been on the run. He’s managed to use me in the car at a rest stop. And from the state of his clothing—probably again in this bed.
Each time it happens, it threatens to make me want to give up again. It makes me wish I had crashed the car to prevent this from happening. It makes me wish that one of the needles will be too strong, and I will never wake up.
But I’m trying to hold on to the last bit of fight left in me.
I hope it’s enough.
Chapter 43
Yvette
We’ve been driving all night to get to this cabin in Vermont, after checking out a few other spots. Now the sun is rising, and the scenery is beautiful. All three of us are tired, but Veronica and Gabriel took shifts driving.
I’m fairly certain it will be another dead end, and that Veronica’s guess about location is incorrect. It was really disappointing to search so many other houses belonging to Mike’s friends and family, and find nothing. My whole body aches.
“Here it is,” Gabriel says as he pulls into the driveway. “It looks like the lights are on. Someone’s home.”
“Can you see the car in the garage?” Veronica asks. “It is a BMW? Should I call the police?”
“I can’t tell,” Gabriel says, after exiting the vehicle and trying to peer into the garage.
I use my cane to hobble up the front stairs, and turn the doorknob, expecting nothing. But when the door swings open, I freeze. I can see that way on the other side of the house, Mike is standing in the kitchen, cooking something. Eggs, maybe. I see his hands on the frying pan, and I remember feeling them on my neck.
Just seeing him again sends a shiver right through me to the core, reminding me of all the nightmares that turned out to be real. I step back, feeling suddenly unstable on my feet.
“Gabe,” I whisper, tightly clutching my cane.
“I’ve got this,” he says, rolling up his sleeves and briskly moving forward into the house. He marches toward Mike. “Hey, buddy! I thought we could have a little talk about your new wife. Where is she?”
Mike turns around to see Gabriel and he flinches. Then he looks past him and sees me, and his eyes grow wide.
“Vetty?” he calls out.
Gabriel grabs the handle of the frying pan, and smashes the hot metal object against Mike’s skull. “Don’t call her that,” he hisses.
“Mmm,” Veronica says beside me, nodding and impressed. “Okay, I guess I can see a little of what you girls saw in him.”
We stand there for a few seconds, and appreciatively watch Gabriel bludgeon Michael’s head and body with the frying pan.
“Try not to kill him, honey,” I call out to Gabe.
“I’m trying my best,” he says as he continues to beat the shit out of Mike.
“Wish I had popcorn,” Veronica grumbles.
“Me too. Okay. That’s handled. Help me up the stairs so we can look for Milla,” I tell Veronica.
“What if Gabe needs our help?” she asks.
I laugh softly. “Don’t worry. Gabe’s going to beat him to a pulp. He already practiced on the walls of our entire house. If anyone’s going to need help, it’s Michael.”
“Good to know,” Veronica says, putting her arm around my lower back for support.
I don’t want to stick around to see Michael get hurt. It doesn’t help me feel better about anything. I just want to make sure that Milla is okay.
When we get to the landing, Veronica and I split up to check all the rooms. I limp along the hallway, calling out for Milla and turning doorknobs. Afraid of what I might find. I’m also afraid that she’s in the basement, because honestly, I think my body will give up if I have to take another flight of stairs.
“She’s here!” Veronica shouts. “Oh my god.”
Turning to the side, I see Veronica burst into a room. Then I hear her scream.
My eyes close briefly. What did she see? I use my cane to move myself forward slowly, hoping against hope that Milla is alive and well.
I struggle to put one foot in front of the other, also grasping the walls for support.
Yes, I know that if she’s alive, I’m probably going to lose my husband. But I’ve done a truly excellent job of losing him for years before we even knew that Milla existed.
Besides, my personal trainer, Lukas, is kind of cute. I’ll be okay.
When I turn around the corner, I see Veronica sobbing and hugging Milla’s body. And I see that Milla is lying in a pool of blood. My heart sinks.
Milla is motionless.
Is she dead…?
Chapter 44
Milla
When Veronica bursts into the room, my heart explodes into a million pieces.
Of happiness. Tears begin to cascade down my cheeks.
She throws her arms around me, and I am so frustrated that I can’t hug her back. I just lie here crying so hard I can barely breathe.
“Are you okay?” Ronnie asks. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” I tell her. “I just can’t move. But I’m not hurt.”
“Thank god, Milla. We need to get you out of here. Get you to a hospital.”
It takes me a second to realize that there is someone behind her. A beautiful woman has been standing in the doorway, and she steps forward, using a cane.
“Evie?” I whisper.
“Hey, girl,” she says with a weak smile. “Not as much fun as it looks, huh? Don’t mind me. I’m just going to take some pictures of this precarious situation you’re in. We’re going to finally get you some nudes that aren’t amateurish.”
I watch in amazement as Evie pulls out her cell phone and begins to take pictures of my body. I feel really uncomfortable because… well, I’m mostly unclothed and who knows what Mike has just done to me. I can’t feel much below the neck. Or above the neck.
“Evie, why are you here?” I whisper in confusion.
“Crime scene nudes. That’s different,” Evie is saying as she studies her camera. Then she looks up at me. “That motherfucker got me pregnant, Milla. We couldn’t let him hurt you, too.”
“Oh my god,” I whisper. “You figured it out. How?”
“Ultrasound dating,” Evie explains. “We got on a plane as soon as we could.”
I close my eyes, thankful for ultrasounds. Then her words hit me.
“We?” I squeak out, hoarsely.
“Gabe is downstairs, kicking the shit out of Mike. You may not know thi
s about Gabe, but he’s pretty weird for an intellectual type… he likes to fight. I’m pretty sure he’s going to put Mike into a coma, too.” She waves her hand dismissively. “Let’s not worry about that. Let him do his thing. Maybe he’ll finally get out of some of his aggression and stop putting holes in the walls.”
I cannot believe that Gabriel is downstairs. I didn’t want our first meeting to be like this… “Holes in the walls?” I ask her.
“Don’t worry, it’s harmless. I’m sorry I didn’t warn you about Mike,” Evie says. “I was just ashamed of cheating on my husband. And I didn’t want you to tell Gabe…”
“It’s okay,” I tell her, as I try to process the situation. “I think I need the morning after pill,” I whisper to both of the women. “How many days have I been here?”
“Well,” Veronica says. “I’ve got some good news and bad news for you, Milla.”
“Give me the good news first.”
“Ummmm. You’re probably not pregnant.”
“How do you know that?”
“Well… it looks like you might be on your period because you’re kind of sitting in a pool of blood.”
“Fuck.”
“The bad news is that you’re sitting in a pool of blood.”
“Thanks,” I tell my friend. “I gathered that. Well… thanks for hugging me anyway.”
“I’m a nurse… I’ve seen worse. And Evie was in a coma so long, I’m sure you had to change her nasty pads.”
“I did,” I say with a smile.
Veronica sighs. “If only a real coma was like the magical fairytales where the princess falls into a beautiful sleep with no bodily functions.”
Evie nods. “Sleeping Beauty never peed or pooped or bled. Lucky her.”
“Lucky nurses,” Veronica adds.