The Other Sister (Sister Series, #1)

by Leanne Davis

Regardless, there was a heart beating inside of her.

  Will was in the waiting room and stood up when she appeared. Her heart dropped at his look of concern towards her. He wore his uniform, and looked like every other soldier minion she so detested.

  “Are you okay?”

  “There’s a heartbeat. I don’t know what to do with that.”

  Will paused and nodded. “I see.”

  The thing was, he did see. He could see why she hated this pregnancy, even this baby, but was also so affected by it. He put an arm into hers and guided her outside where a drizzle began to fall from the low-slung clouds. He put her into the truck, started it, and looked at her again. They both stared towards the headlights cutting through the late afternoon gloom.

  “You don’t want an abortion, do you?”

  “Before, it didn’t feel like a baby. Now—”

  “It does.”

  “Its heart was beating. How can I stop that?”

  “I guess you can’t.”

  “What would you do if you were me?”

  He glanced at her. “You know I can’t answer that. There’s no way anyone but you can know what to do.”

  “It would be easier for all, especially you, if I just got rid of it.”

  “You know you could give it up for adoption. If you can’t face raising the result of what happened to you, you could always give it up.”

  “There can’t be a very hot market for Latino babies, and that’s what this one will be.”

  “I think just baby is the key. There is always a market for a baby that couples want to adopt from birth.”

  She lowered her head. “I don’t know. I just don’t know anything at all.”

  “I guess we should hurry up and get married then, huh? Before you start showing.”

  She couldn’t look at him. “I’m sorry.”

  “The general say or do anything to you?”

  She shook her head. “Not lately. He’s been preoccupied by something.”

  “I’ll just bet he is. So next week?”

  “He’ll require that we do some kind of ceremony or something.”

  Will seemed to look harder out the windshield. “I know. He mentioned that.”

  “What the hell? Next week it is. My glorious wedding day.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Jessie found a pair of scissors next to a sewing kit. She opened them, and lifted the white skirt of the dress she wore, digging the open scissors into her inner thigh. Beads of blood formed before they started to roll over her white skin. It helped. She did it again, a few inches lower. Even better. The blood streamed in a gooey line down her leg before dripping onto the tiled bathroom floor. She was sitting on a closed toilet lid, with her beautiful wedding dress pushed up, around her waist, out of the way. She was all ready to get married, but instead of fidgeting with her makeup or adjusting her hair, she was staring at the blood dripping off her leg.

  She lowered her eyes, avoiding her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She looked so normal on the outside. Her hair was washed and curled around her face. She wore nice makeup. After slipping on the silky, slimming wedding gown she bought (off the rack) over her head, she looked lovely. Especially considering the short time frame she had. She handled it all so well, so far, so quietly. So different from how she usually did. She was trying so hard not to mess this up, or embarrass Will. And now, here she was. She could hear them calling her. It was time to finish the sham that had become her life, that probably would always be her life.

  “Jessie?”

  The door suddenly burst open. Jessie dropped the scissors she was clutching in her hand. She grabbed the hand towels draped nearby for guests to dry their hands on and quickly pressed one onto her bleeding thigh. She blinked. Her sister? Was she really there?

  “Lindsey?”

  “What happened to you? Oh dear God, you’re bleeding.” Lindsey rushed forward, and came to her knees where Jessie sat. Her hand grabbed the towel on her thigh, and lifted it high enough to inspect. She looked up into Jessie’s eyes, but Jessie averted hers. She was speechless, not at being caught cutting, but because Lindsey was there, for her.

  Lindsey grabbed another towel and pressed it against the bottom of her thigh where more blood oozed. “Why are you bleeding? It’s on your dress.”

  “I-I was silly, trying to cut off a frayed edge, and my nerves got the better of me. I accidentally nicked my leg.”

  Lindsey stared at her leg in disbelief. It was the stupidest excuse Jessie ever made. She waited for Lindsey’s rebuke about the complete impossibility of her story. Only three-year-old children actually wind up cutting themselves in the leg accidentally with scissors.

  “Stand up. I’ll see how badly the dress is stained.”

  Jessie stood. Lindsey moved around her and took cold water to rinse the dress hem. Clumsily, Jessie held the towels to her legs.

  “Sit down, I’ll find a first aid kit. There’s not much to do about this hem.”

  Lindsey came back a few moments later, and fell to her knees while Jessie began opening a bandage. She removed the towel, quickly pressing the gauze pad before taping it. Blood oozed out the sides. If Lindsey recognized the precision of the cut, as well as the other similar marks next to it that were too alike, and too telling, she didn’t say. Then again, Jessie knew Lindsey was the master of denial.

  Jessie put a hand over Lindsey’s to make Lindsey pause and meet her eyes. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m your maid of honor.”

  “But how? Why?”

  “Daddy. Obviously. He said I had to do this. It wouldn’t look right otherwise.”

  A new stab of resentment overtook her. “So here you are. The good sister as always.”

  Lindsey finished bandaging her leg, and mumbled, “I know why he’s marrying you.”

  Standing up, Lindsey turned back to the sink and washed her hands. Jessie stared after her sister. Did her father tell Lindsey what happened in Mexico?

  “What do you mean?”

  Lindsey whirled around. She threw the paper towel in the wastebasket. “What do you think? That you’re pregnant, of course. That it happened in Mexico. That he feels like he owes this to you. He doesn’t love you. He doesn’t even like you. I can’t believe you’re doing this to him.”

  Jessie stared open-mouthed at Lindsey. “How do you know?”

  “That you’re pregnant? Will told me.”

  Will told her? When did Will speak to Lindsey? He never mentioned anything to her, or that he told Lindsey she was pregnant.

  “It’s nothing I want,” she said quietly, staring at the floor.

  “Of course, you don’t. But you still get it, don’t you? A baby? Will? How do you do it? Act as horribly as you do, and get everything wrong, but you still end up with everything.”

  Jessie lifted her eyes up to her sister’s. How could her own flesh and blood be so wrong about her? And her situation?

  Jessie took in Lindsey’s outfit. She chose a beautiful, elegant, plush, blue-colored dress. Her hair was pulled into a soft knot at the nape of her neck, leaving her face pristine, pure, and looking almost flawless with little makeup and no adornments.

  Jessie felt guilty for how Lindsey felt about her. “Lindsey, I’m sorry about what I said and did that night.”

  Lindsey shook her head. “I’m only here for Daddy.”

  Jessie stood and nodded. “Of course you are.”

  Picking up her bouquet, Jessie passed her sister, and opened the bathroom door. Her dress fell to the floor, and the soft trail of white train followed her. A train stained slightly pinkish from the red blood of her inner pain.

  ****

  Will was standing tall and formal at the end of the narrow aisle. It was a small church chosen by the general. Jessie told the general the date she and Will agreed upon and let the general plan it all. Why fight the impossible? After complying with her father’s wishes, she told Will what she wanted, and voila! Here they were.

  J
essie’s breath caught as she peeked around the door toward the pulpit. Will was dressed in full regalia. It was a uniform she once hated, but now had her gasping in awe. His hair was brushed off his face under the brim of his hat, which was creased to perfection. To Jessie, he looked absolutely perfect where he stood.

  There were not many in attendance, only about hundred of the general’s most influential cohorts. There were a few family members, along with a discreet photographer, of course, who no doubt, would leak photos to the press within hours. Her sister walked up the aisle towards Will. He stared at her. His eyes appeared warm and kind, but his face remained stoic. Lindsey paused at the end of the aisle. Will gave her a look. A something look. Exactly what it meant, Jessie had no clue, but she knew it was something very real.

  She had chosen to not have the general walk her down the aisle. A very telling indication of their relationship. And now it was her turn. Will straightened up again, turning his gaze from one sister to the other. His expression didn’t change, or even register that he knew her. He saluted her father, and his eyes seemed to skim over her head. Her stomach quivered, and her legs trembled. She heard the music cueing her forward, but she couldn’t move. She could not move. Something was wrong with her. The blood rushed into her head and her temples.

  She was aware of the crowd’s slight murmur and people looking at her, urging her to take a step forward. Instead, she stood there, rooted, the victim of an anxiety attack that incapacitated her. She couldn’t do it: marry Will, or humiliate herself and him. It was a cruel joke by her father, forcing her to maintain the charade.

  Then she felt an arm on hers. She looked up in bewilderment to find Will standing next to her. He took her arm and pulled her next to him, gently urging her forward. She met his gaze, and he met hers, but neither said anything. Will boldly walked her down the aisle that she found so difficult to do. She saw her father’s face, and leaned closer to Will. Instinctively, her eternal fear of failing or upsetting the general returned.

  Her hand was cold in Will’s white-gloved hand, and he must have felt the iciness of her palms through the soft cottony material. She never heard the priest’s words, but only nodded, and mumbled on cue. It was all gibberish to her.

  Then Will turned towards her, and his mouth came down on hers. He was kissing her. She stood there frozen, wooden, and unfeeling. Her lips were as cold as her hands. His mouth overtook hers with softness, warmth, and fullness against her cold, thin orifice. His arms also came around her, as he pulled her to his chest, and kissed her for several seconds. He was making it look believable. It only took an instant before Will released her and they were legally married.

  ****

  Will noticed the red drops on Jessie’s dress within seconds of her appearance. She stood at the back of the church, her strapless, white dress hugging her breasts before it cascaded to the floor in heavy layers of material. She looked lovely, breathtakingly so, almost virginal when she was standing at the altar. Will had a fleeting, strange reaction inside his gut when he saw how pretty she was, something he never noticed about her before. Then, he spied the blood on the train behind her. Blood she sacrificed in order to marry him.

  The sight of her blood made the icy anger that was growing in him over the last few days begin melting. It reminded him anew that the whole farce was not Jessie’s fault. She was a victim five times over him.

  Jessie stood awkwardly frozen, despite hearing the start of the wedding march. Much further into the song, she still didn’t move. The crowd shuffled and murmured. The general’s face reddened as he looked back at his daughter, spurring Will forward. At his touch, she immediately responded, and began to walk by his side.

  When they were standing before God and all the witnesses, saying he would take Jessie as his wife, he understood the inertia that kept her frozen in the aisle. The whole thing was ridiculous. They barely knew each other, and were only connected by shared tragedy and Jessie’s desperation.

  Only now they were married. How could he ever disentangle himself from the needy vacuum that was no longer Jessie Bains, but Jessie Hendricks?

  Jessie looked worse than miserable. They were in a small, nicely appointed room, eating a lovely, catered dinner. But she didn’t eat. Did she have an eating disorder now too? He had no idea, but it was entirely possible. The thought of it hardly daunted him, however. Lack of food wasn’t as bad as loss of blood.

  Senator Johnstone happened to pass by in deep discussion with General Bains. Will knew instantly what his first act as Jessie’s new husband would be: making sure she would never be victimized again.

  He followed the senator and general to the hallway and waited them out. They were in a heated discussion over something. Will was beginning to suspect that whatever the general got involved with was dirty, powerful, and always to the general’s benefit. After realizing the kind of man the general was, one who would let his sixty-plus-year-old “friend” molest and rape his emotionally unstable daughter, nothing seemed out of character for General Bains.

  The general eventually sought another grayed-haired, political powerhouse, leaving the senator alone. And vulnerable. Perfect for Will.

  Will approached the vile man and when the senator saw him, his eyes frantically roamed the hallway, looking for an escape.

  “Did you have permission to fuck the general’s sixteen-year-old daughter?”

  The senator looked at Will, then towards the direction the general went. The senator’s eyes met Will’s, and they were beady and dark.

  “What are you going to do about it? I didn’t have to worry about it before, who were you? Now you’re the general’s son-in-law. Brilliant maneuver, soldier. Hats off to you in terms of strategy.”

  Will closed his fist to keep from smashing it into the wrinkled, ugly face of the pervert before him. “Don’t come near her again. If I ever see you approach her, they won’t be able to find your body.”

  “Threatening me? Risky move. Do you know who my friends are?”

  “She has pictures, you sick fuck. I have them now. If you ever humiliate, upset, or even breathe near her again, I swear to you, those pictures will be the front page of every newspaper in America.”

  “You wouldn’t do that to your own wife.”

  Will stepped closer. “You mean the wife featured naked on several websites in America? Mark my words, I won’t hesitate.”

  The senator smiled a nasty smile, and his long, yellowish teeth sickened Will. “I underestimated you. Your ambitions might rival mine. You’re in my sights now, Will Hendricks.”

  “And you’re in mine, Senator Johnstone. But Jessie is off limits. I’m not her father, I don’t whore her out.”

  “Kind of late for that, young lad. She’s a whore through and through. I can attest to that. So can some of my friends. You want some names?”

  Will raised his fist, but backed up. He only married Jessie to protect her. Nothing more. It didn’t matter to him what she did or did not do. He didn’t even like her. He didn’t feel the need to protect her honor, just her future.

  “Stay away from my wife, Senator. Do yourself another favor and just stay out of my way.”

  “You miscalculated, soldier.”

  Will walked away, realizing the quagmire that his career had become since the first day he met General Bains was far from over. When he looked up, he found his new wife looking at him with horrified eyes.

  ****

  When Will left, Jessie followed and came upon him talking to the senator. She listened to the entire conversation.

  Will sighed when he spotted her and came closer. “Have you had enough?”

  “Why did you do that? You don’t understand, he’s one of the most powerful men there is. Will, you can’t talk like that to him.”

  “What? The perve senator? I can. I can talk to perverts anyway I want. Someday, I’ll explain to you why you have no obligation to sleep with men forty years your senior just because your father told you to. That’s what happened, isn�
�t it? Dear old Daddy told you to do it, didn’t he? Who else, Jessie? Who else did he pimp you to?”

  She turned away from him. The bile in her gut churning, climbing up her throat.

  “Jessie?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  She heard Will sigh. “It matters as much as everything.”

  “I don’t have any pictures, by the way.”

  “He doesn’t know that. All that matters is he thinks we do.”

  We. Even after what Will encountered, he said we. As in they. Not her all alone anymore, up against the most powerful movers and shakers of the country.

  Will stepped up, tall, young, strong, and confident against the controlling men that formerly dominated Jessie’s life. He was everything she wasn’t. He took her arm. “Let’s get out of here.”

  She nodded, numbly following Will. He knew more now, and for some reason, miraculously, didn’t like knowing what was done to her in the past. Now, however, instead of disliking or blaming her for it, Will wanted to protect her. She didn’t know exactly what to do or what to think. But she liked it, or at least, she planned to enjoy it until Will walked out and never came back to her. There was no other way for this to go. But for now, for a little, tiny while, she didn’t feel completely alone.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Jessie followed Will into their apartment. It was a silent, awful ride from the wedding. They said their obligatory goodbyes, and at last, they were alone. Will threw his keys onto the small kitchen counter as he turned and regarded her.

  How was she supposed to do this? Should she be coy? And let him take the lead? Or did he prefer that she just take off her dress? After all, it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen her before and didn’t know the truth about her. There were no barriers between them.

  She slipped off her coat, and set it near the front door. Then she walked toward Will where he stood rigidly still. She was lacking in most skills, and had little or no self-confidence, but she knew sex.

  She didn’t even mind having it with Will. He was so nice to her.