All that changed the day Angie announced her pregnancy. Annette went from being a carefree, flighty companion to a distraught, constantly paranoid woman. News of her impending status as a grandmother brought memories of Amelia to the surface, and it set Annette’s recovery back years.
What little sanity she had left disappeared like the snowflakes from two days ago, when they received the call about the accident. Upon arrival at the hospital, Annette’s touch with reality was severed. Jerome feared it was a permanent break. Though she hadn’t displayed violent tendencies in years, her mind break caused her to lash out at Drake. Annette’s outburst warranted banishment from the hospital, not even able to be at her daughter’s bedside. Jerome had given Miriam medication to keep Annette sedated, at least until Angie recovered.
He jerked a fraction at the vibration of his cell phone in his pocket. He wouldn’t look to see who it was. He already knew. Annette had tried calling him four times prior from Miriam’s house. He hadn’t answered any of the calls and wasn’t about to change that now. Truth was, he couldn’t deal with Annette’s drama. Let her sister handle the bouts of crying, wailing and general gnashing of teeth. Angie needed at least one parent who was calm. As always, it would be him.
Instead of answering, Jerome let his thoughts wander over to Drake. He’d never liked his son-in-law before, and after the events of the past two days, Jerome despised him. Wanted to see him suffer, which went against everything Jerome stood for as a doctor. Drake Benson was a pompous blowhard, thinking he was better than anyone else. Determined he could handle things better than trained professionals, Drake’s bravado destroyed Angie’s world. Nearly killed her. Had she died, Jerome already knew in his heart what he would have done.
An eye for an eye, loss for a loss.
Though he didn’t agree with Annette’s ridiculous outburst in front of others, he did concur with her words. It was all Drake’s fault, and when Angie woke up, he and his wife would work in tandem to convince Angie to divorce the idiotic scum. If, that was, Annette recovered from her own issues. If she didn’t, Jerome wondered if he could convince Angie divorcing Drake was for the best on his own.
Jerome’s thoughts about wrapping his swollen fingers around the neck of his son-in-law were interrupted when the door opened. He stiffened as Drake rolled in, his face pale, a small bandage covering his nose, his lower leg encased in plaster. They never exchanged words as they switched positions in silence. Jerome walked to the door then took one final glance behind him. Drake sat next to Angie, his fingers caressing her cheek as he whispered in her ear.
The image made Jerome sick to his stomach, so he left the room.
What’s that sound? It’s so familiar. The high-pitched wails. Oh, God, it’s a baby! Keep crying, little one. Yes, that’s it. Louder! I’m following, I’m coming. Your voice lets the light in. I see now! My baby girl—wait, the voice is wrong.
You’re not my daughter.
Dear God, I can see! Bright, blessed colors! I recognize this place. The pink walls, the delicate scrolls on the wooden crib. The thick shag carpet, the sheer white curtains I helped Mom make. There you are, Amelia! I see you, and I know you! I remember. Your chubby cheeks, stained red from crying, little hands balled into tight fists. You’re wearing my favorite onesie—the one Aunt Miriam made you—with a matching nightgown for me. The yellow one with blue and green turtles. Where’s Mom? Dad? Can’t they hear you? It’s okay, I’m coming. I’ll hold you. Comfort you. I’m almost there. No, don’t stop crying! The light is dimming. Wait, someone is coming. They’ll take care of you, so please, ask them to help me!
I’m here, right here.
Can’t you see me?
Help!
What…what are you doing to Amelia? Don’t…don’t hold her like that. She’s fragile, just a baby. She’s slow, that’s what Momma says. Stop! Put her down! Leave my baby sister alone. No! She can’t breathe! You’re smothering her. Mom! Hurry, help Amelia! Oh, God, she’s not breathing! She’s all alone in her crib, her cheeks and hands are grayish blue.
Momma! I’m so sorry. I couldn’t help her. Please, Momma, don’t cry. You still have me. Can’t you see me? Oh, God, the darkness is back.
Wait, come help me!
Don’t let it return.
This…can’t be happening. Oh, God, I was wrong. I don’t want to remember what happened. It’s too painful. I’ll just slip back into the darkness. Float away from the sorrow. Yes, float away, grieve no more.
I hear you talking, whispering in my ear. Your voice makes me sick. Your words are vile and reprehensible. They also give me strength. Strength to return from the void, to make you accountable for what you’ve done. You were supposed to love me! To protect me from harm. Be my rock. Instead, you are worse than a thief. You’re a murderer, a cold-blooded killer. A maniac wrapped up in your own self-righteous world.
Yes, I hear you. I may not be able to control my body, provide you with a response, but I hear you. I can’t believe you just said that. How can you sleep at night? How can you live with what you’ve done? The decision was for the best for all parties involved? Are you kidding me? You pig. You dirty, filthy swine. Don’t you realize how many hearts you’ve broken, how many lives your actions ruined? Oh, you’re intelligent, so I’m sure you are aware of the damage you’ve caused. You simply don’t care. Everything always has to revolve around you, doesn’t it?
One minute you tell me to leave, go on to the next realm. Rest. The next, you want me to fight, your whispered words encouraging me to be strong. You’re either out of your mind or trying to drive me insane.
It won’t work. I feel now. Know who I am, and where I am. Alive, yes, Angela Renee Langford Benson is fucking alive! I’m aware of how I got here. My child, my precious child, she’s gone. I know what was done to all of us, and believe me, justice is coming.
Once I swim up through the murky waters of my mind, my plan fully formed, payment will be harsh and swift. Keep talking. Your words have the opposite effect than what you intended. They are giving me nourishment, not making me weak. The light is brighter now, and my plan is almost complete. I’m almost ready to break free from this void, and when I do, I know exactly who I’m going to call for help to take you down.
Mommy. I’m so sorry. I understand now why your mind snapped. Jesus, the anguish is beyond suffering. On another realm, a higher plane, than just grief.
Life-altering.
Game changing.
Anger-inducing.
Rage-fueling.
6
Reality
Angie burst through the murkiness of her shattered mind. Her eyes fluttered open, squinting at the intense light surrounding her. On instinct, she took in a huge breath, her body jerking with the effort. Pain ripped through her stomach and shoulder, causing her to gasp out loud.
Okay, breathe, just…breathe. Slow your heart down. Deep, slow intakes of air. Don’t hyperventilate. Think Angie. Think.
Glancing around at her surroundings, she realized she was in the hospital. Hooked up to an IV, a sore body swathed in a flimsy gown. Angie tried to sit up, but the movement made her dizzy. Reaching up with her hand, she touched her face, felt the bandages. Her hand flew to her belly. She whimpered in agony.
Oh, God, it wasn’t a dream. She’s gone. My baby…
Hot tears raced down Angie’s face and she let them come. Though in physical pain, it paled in comparison to the mental anguish. Images of the accident, and the events before and after, whizzed by in a gut-wrenching blur. The memories of the words spoken in her ear made the tears come faster. Everything was gone. Life as she knew it, over. Nothing would ever be the same. An entire life obliterated, the trajectory altered, in seconds.
No, stop it! You were simply dreaming. Your mind shut down after the accident. None of what you remember is true. It can’t be. No one could be so evil.
She tried to stay calm, to listen to the clinical side of her mind, but it wasn’t working. The haunting words replayed over and
over, so crisp, so clear. Remembering them replaced Angie’s sorrow with red-hot fury. Taking a deep breath, she steadied her nerves for the test that would prove her mind was playing tricks, or what she recalled was the ugly, horrid truth.
Raising her arm, Angie brought her elbow closer. Her heart sank. A small puncture wound with a slight bruise around the edges, right at the medial inner juncture.
You bastard.
Seeing the undeniable evidence in front of her eyes wiped away all traces of doubt. Angie closed her eyes, leaned back and let the images and words play back in her mind. As she watched, each vision infused her with strength and a deep-seated rage. Everything about her former life was one gigantic lie. No court trial or prison sentence would rectify it, or soothe the wounds inflicted on not only her, but her family. Period.
The plan Angie envisioned while wandering inside the hallways of her mind came next. She went over every detail. It was bold, cutthroat, completely against the person she was.
No, who I used to be. I’m a product of someone else’s creation now.
Angie heard his voice on the other side of the door. Her devoted, beloved Drake was back. Ready to play his new role of the sweet, caring husband, desperate for his poor wife to wake up. Grabbing the edge of the sheet, Angie wiped her tears away, moved back to her original position and held still. The monitors beeped in sync with her heartbeat, which had skyrocketed in time with her anger.
In…Out…Slow and easy. That’s it. Don’t move an inch. Don’t blink. In fact, don’t listen. Just concentrate on the plan while he plays his games.
She heard him come in the door, a strange whooshing sound followed. A wheelchair. In seconds, Drake was next to her, his warm fingers caressing her cheek before moving a strand of her hair from her face. His hot breath grazed her ear. Drake whispered words so vile, so sick and atrocious, it took all her concentration and intestinal fortitude to remain still.
As words poured from his mouth, any doubts Angie had about her own evil plans disappeared.
Unsure how long Drake remained by her side, Angie finally blocked out his words, her mind drifting over to the plan. When he left and the door closed, she wasted no time. He could return at any moment, so she had to hurry.
Grabbing the phone from the small table, she dialed. Her chest pounded as each ring ticked precious seconds away. On the fourth ring, the wait ended.
“Stephens Funeral Home, how may I assist you today?”
“Kevin Stephens.”
“Whom shall I say is calling?”
“Lady, this is an emergency. Put me through now.”
“One moment, please.”
Angie fought through the pain in her body and mind. She listened to the soothing organ music, but it didn’t help calm her nerves. The call would show up on the phone records of the hospital, but that part didn’t bother her. After all, she was calling her family’s funeral home. No one would bat an eye if her plans worked out. What made her nervous was the chance someone might walk into the room. Find her awake before she was ready for anyone else to know she’d regained consciousness.
“Kevin Stephens.”
Thank God he’s at work! “Kevin? It’s Angie.”
“Well, hearing your voice sure has made my day! So glad you are awake, just sorry about the news. Don’t worry though, cuz. We’ll get through all this—”
Angie interrupted. “Listen, I don’t have much time to talk. I need your help, and I mean right now. Just between the two of us, promise?”
“Sure, honey. I assume you want to discuss the services of—”
Angie cut him off. She stared at the door while she spoke in hushed tones, hoping her daily visitors were otherwise engaged. “Get down here as fast as you can. Wear scrubs. Bring a surgical coat and a disguise. Hide them in a bag, or inside a bundle of flowers or something. You still have a lab coat from med school, right?”
“Yeah, I think so. In the back closet. Angie… a disguise? I don’t understand?”
“No time for questions. I’ll explain when you get here. It’s a matter of life and death, and I’m not even kidding. Will you do that? For me? I need your help, Kevin.”
Kevin cleared his throat, “If my cousin needs me, I’m there. Mum’s the word. Be there in less than an hour.”
“Thank you. Remember, tell no one. And I mean that, Kevin. Not a soul. Got it?”
“Gotcha. Hey, you’re awake, and that’s all that matters. Love you.”
“Love you too, Kevin. Hurry.” Angie hung up the phone just in time. She heard footsteps coming down the hall, so she scooted back to her original position, closed her eyes and prayed the right person was about to enter her room.
It was her lucky day.
Angie smelled his cologne from across the room. The musky aroma brought distant, childhood memories to the surface. Keeping still, she listened for sounds of another person. Satisfied he was alone, Angie waited until he reached her bed and leaned down to kiss her before opening her eyes.
“Daddy?” Angie whispered.
All the color from Jerome’s face disappeared, his mouth agape. He blinked several times, trying to regain his faculties. “Oh, Angie! You’re awake!”
Angie motioned with her head for him to sit. Reaching out, she grabbed her father’s trembling hand. “We need to talk. Privately. Please, lock the door. I don’t want to be interrupted.”
Confusion spread across his face, but Jerome didn’t ask any questions. He did as his daughter requested and returned to his previous spot. Ever the doctor, he pulled out his stethoscope to check Angie’s vitals.
Angie brushed his hand away and rubbed her flat stomach. “I’m fine, Dad. Well, as fine as a person can be who lost her child and nearly died.”
Jerome’s eyes filled with tears as he watched. “Oh, Angie, we’ve been so worried. Your mom, she’s… not taking this well. Had to sedate her after she found out. She’s banned from returning to the hospital after she exploded and struck Drake. It’s why she isn’t here with you. Well, it’s part of the reason. I’m afraid she’s had a setback. A break, actually. But don’t worry, she’s with Aunt Miriam. Here,” Jerome said, reaching into his pocket for his phone, “let’s call her. She’ll be beyond relieved to hear your voice. It will bring her back. Pull her out of her catatonia. Tell her you’re awake. Then I must insist on taking your vitals, and calling Dr. Packard and Drake.”
Oh, Mommy. I’m so sorry. I’ll be there soon. Take care of you. I promise. “No, Dad. Put your phone away. We have some things to talk about first. I’m… not ready to let anyone know I’m awake. Water, please?”
“Angela Renee! Your mother. Your husband. They both need to know…” Jerome muttered as he handed Angie a cup of water.
Angie couldn’t stop her voice from rising, “I said no, Dad. I mean it. When the time comes, I certainly will. In fact, I’ll give her a hug, followed by high-fives for slapping the shit out of Drake. But calling him or anyone else, is out of the question.”
“What in the world are you talking about?” Jerome asked.
Angie saw the wary look in his eyes. She doubted he even noticed he’d scooted back from her like she had awoken with a contagious disease or something. Angie took a sip of water before she responded. “First things first, Dad. Where’s my child? Still in the hospital morgue, or has her father already made arrangements for a funeral?”
“Honey, now is not the time to discuss such things…”
“Wrong. Where is my child?”
Tears formed in Jerome’s eyes, but he fought them back. He swallowed twice and cleared his throat, trying to remain calm. “Drake… thought it was best to not let you see her… remains. She’s already been cremated. Kevin was here yesterday and he took her with him. Don’t worry, she’s with family. They took good care of her. Promise.”
Pain tore through Angie’s mind, but she shoved it aside. At least her baby girl was with someone who loved her. “Any of the blood they drew from me left? It needs to be tested… Oh, wait. Ho
w long have I been here?”
“Honey, you aren’t making much sense. Of course your blood was drawn, but I doubt any remains in the lab. Why are you so concerned about that?”
Angie sighed, rubbing her forehead. “How long have I been here?”
“A little over forty-eight hours,” Jerome answered.
Angie stared at him, noting the facial expression full of concern. “I need you to find out about the blood. If some remains, run a panel. Immediately. Check specifically for Oxytocin. If they drew it when we first arrived, some traces might still remain.”
“Angela, that’s not…”
Angie’s head throbbed as rage pumped through her system. “Dad, this whole thing, it wasn’t some tragic accident. It was all planned, put in motion by the snake I married. He wanted me, and our child, to die. For money. It was Drake’s plan all along. The only reason he married me.”
Aghast, Jerome blurted out, “Why, that’s just preposterous, Angela! I’ve seen him every day since he’s been here. Watched him come in here and talk to you, saw the utter despair on his face. The only reason he isn’t in here right now, by your side as he should be, is because his doctor insisted he rest his leg. He’s a broken man, and I don’t mean just the bones in his body. His spirit is crushed. Though I’m angry with him for his stupidity in causing all this, I still see the sadness in his eyes.”
Angie lowered her voice. “He’s lying, Dad. Using his courtroom drama trickery. His voice somehow broke through my mind while I was out. I heard every word he said to me, and none of it was kind. Or sympathetic. Or full of sorrow and love. He kept urging me to go, join our child in death. Said each day I was alive was costing him in medical fees that would cut into the life insurance proceeds after I died. Tormented me by telling me everything he did to me.”
Jerome’s voice changed from shock to relief. “Oh, honey, you were in a coma! Your mind was just playing tricks on you, that’s all. Next, you’ll tell me you followed a bright light, visited Heaven or some such nonsense. It’s all natural, normal responses from a brain injury. You’ve been in a coma for nearly two days!”
Whispered Pain Page 4
