by Emerson Rose
“We have to go!” I turn away from him and try to escape through the passenger door, but he locks the doors with the child lock from his side.
The ringing in my head intensifies and I struggle with the door but he’s already backing out of our spot. He jerks the wheel and races out of the garage taking the curves at a frightening speed until we are speeding in the opposite direction from where I want to be.
I turn around in my seat and watch the burning hospital get smaller and smaller as we drive away. Black smoke is billowing from the floor halfway up the main tower, where Maria’s room is. I sink down against the dash and cover my face.
Marcus is swatting at me. He wants me to put my seatbelt on and turn around but I can’t hear him, I don’t want to hear him, I want to go back.
One Hundred Four
“Where are we going?” We aren’t going in the direction of our house but I can’t hear myself speak. Marcus can’t hear me either. He is focused on the road ahead of us. I reach out and tap him on the arm. It startles him and instinctually he grabs ahold of my wrist.
A lifetime of abuse and being in the Mob has left him a little jumpy. He releases me and we pull over onto the side of the road. His chest is heaving when he rests his forehead on the steering wheel. He has a death grip on the wheel and I think he might be hyperventilating.
We have had problems communicating before and we solved them with texting. I need my phone. My purse; where the hell is my purse? I feel around until I find it on the floor and dig out my phone to text my husband right next to me.
This is ridiculous. I want to go back! Where are we going? What the hell is going on?
I pass him the phone and he sits up. He reads quickly and types out a response.
Under NO circumstances am I taking you back. We are going somewhere safe. Someone just tried to kill us. Are you OK?
He hands me the phone with a jerk and a stern look.
We have to make sure she’s OK. No place is safe.
Shaking his head back and forth he replies and hands it back again.
We can’t go back. I’ll have Black check on her but we have to leave town, now. I have a friend who we can stay with until I figure out what is going on.
He starts the engine and pulls back onto the road. Thirty minutes later, we are traveling through a beautiful residential area. I’ve never been here before but Marcus maneuvers every corner as if it were his own neighborhood.
Three turns later, we pull into a cul-de-sac and straight down the driveway to a house set far back from the street and surrounded by mammoth evergreen trees that are so thick it feels like the sun has gone down.
I can still hear the ringing in my ears but it’s not as loud. Marcus glances at me. I wish we could hear each other, damn it. I’d like to know whose house this is. When we stop in front of a professional NBA basketball hoop in the driveway I give verbal communication another try, “Whose house?”
“Her name is Serena. She worked for me at Dominus for eleven years.” So, he can hear me. Good, because I don’t like the idea of showing up at an ex-girlfriend's house unexpected in the middle of a crisis.
“She was a performer, Imani, not my girlfriend. When she got too old to perform she worked in administration. We can trust her. She is as loyal as they come. How is your hearing?” Nice change of subject.
“I can hear you. How do you know she’s loyal?”
“Imani, trust me.” I look at the quaint A-frame house. Thick green moss blankets every surface of the woods. There is a small bridge that arches over a tiny frozen stream. It looks like the cover of a fairy tale book I used to have when I was little.
“Oh, alright, whatever,” I say under my breath. I can’t hear my own words being spoken but Marcus knows I’m surrendering. He jumps out and rounds the Escalade to open my door.
I roll my eyes as he takes my hand to help me from the front seat. “What if she’s not home? Does she live alone?”
He leads me along the stone path in front of the house giving me an abridged version of Serena’s life.
“She will be home and, no, she isn’t married. She has a son but he’s in college on a basketball scholarship. She is wheelchair bound, she doesn’t like to leave the house much.” I wonder how a stage performer ended up in wheelchair. He reaches for the doorbell but before he can press it, a gorgeous, exotic African American woman opens the door.
“Marcus?”
“Serena.” He leans down and her arms circle his neck. She clutches at the back of his coat. They embrace long enough that I begin to feel like an intruder. When he pulls away her eyes are brimming with tears. He holds her delicate hand when he introduces me, “Serena, I’d like you to meet my wife, Imani.”
Her face lights up and she reaches out to pull me into an equally fierce hug.
“Your wife. Marcus Dante Castillo, you did not tell me you were getting married. Why wasn’t I invited to the wedding?”
“It was… unexpected and we haven’t had a ceremony yet, and you are, of course, on the guest list.”
“Oh well, in that case, get inside, it’s cold out there.” She maneuvers the wheelchair away from the door, allowing us to pass. He guides me down a short hall that opens into a breathtaking room.
The back of the house is made of glass and it overlooks the forest and beyond it to a dock and a lake. Being in this room is like sitting in the woods minus the cold.
A wood-burning stove to my left burns warming the room to a comfortable temperature and there are beautiful floor-to-ceiling bookshelves covering the wall on my right.
“Wow, your house is gorgeous.”
“Thank you. I designed it myself. Well, with a little help from Marcus, that is.”
“You?”
He nods, sliding his hands into his jean pockets and casually leaning against the doorframe. He looks around, taking it all in.
“So, what brings you to my neck of the woods, pun intended,” she says smiling. He doesn’t return her smile.
“Oh no, what’s wrong?” she asks, all humor gone from her beautiful face.
“We are in a bit of trouble.” He straightens up and reaches for my hand leading me to a big overstuffed white couch in the center of the room.
“Well, of course you are. God forbid you visit an old friend out of the blue just because.”
“I’m sorry, Serena. Life has been very complicated lately.”
“Your life has been complicated since the day your mama pushed you from her womb. What has you gracing my doorstep today?”
“I think someone is…”
When he hesitates I butt in, “Trying to kill us.” I say, finishing his sentence.
“What’s new?” She flips her wrist in mock surprise.
“What she means is, we suspect someone might be watching us.”
“And sending death threats, and blowing up hospitals,” I say. Her gaze bounces from his face to mine.
“I just thought we could stay with you until I can figure out what exactly is going on.”
“Blowing up hospitals?”
“We were visiting Maria. When we left there was an explosion. I don't know if it had anything to do with us or not.” He’s really irritating me now with his insouciance.
“Okay, wait a minute here, you have had death threats and a close call with a bomb. Have you called the police?” As soon as the words leave her lips she seems to realize how stupid they are. “Never mind. I’ve been away from that life for so long I forgot you don’t involve the police in your matters. You’re welcome here for as long as you need, make yourself at home.” She spreads both arms wide and I am relieved to have a safe place to hide.
“I would like to know a little more about the death threats and bombs, though.”
“Thank you, Serena. I need to make a few phone calls. Imani can fill you in.”
“Of course, you can use my office if you like.”
“I will. Thank you.” Marcus squeezes my knee and pecks me on the cheek before leavin
g me alone with his friend. I watch his backside disappear into a room opposite the couch. When I look back to Serena she is considering me thoughtfully.
“I have to say before he returns that I don’t know that man. The Marcus I knew was never affectionate or… happy. What have you done to him?”
“Oh, I can’t take credit for that, he was my patient after a car accident. He was in a coma for a while and when he woke up, he was like this. Well, not exactly like this. He had brain surgery recently and thankfully it was successful.”
“I did hear about the accident and Megan, so sad.” She shakes her head and wrings her hands in her lap. I’m not sure what to say. Megan isn’t my favorite topic.
“You knew her?” I feel obliged to sound compassionate.
“Yes, she was a sweet girl, troubled and rebellious but she would have worked past that, she was just a teenager.” Serena senses that I’m uncomfortable talking about Megan and graciously changes the subject.
“So, tell me what’s going on, what kind of death threats and an explosion, how big?” I hate this subject almost as much as Megan.
“I’m not sure exactly. Someone sent Marcus an iPad as a gift via messenger. It had a playlist with one song that has lyrics that are very threatening. Elena got a text this morning referencing a song with similar lyrics. And there was an explosion at the hospital today about an hour ago.”
Serena slaps her hands on her thighs as if a thought has just entered her mind.
“We should turn on the news and see if they’re covering it.” Why didn’t I think of that? She reaches into a pouch hanging from the side of her wheelchair and pulls out a remote.
She punches the power button and the screen comes to life. It’s already set to the local news station where a woman wearing a lovely pink suit is reporting the story of the explosion.
It’s worse than I thought. The side of the hospital looks like someone has taken a bite out of the building. Fire trucks and police cars are everywhere, concrete with jagged edges continues to crumble and mangled metal beams protrude from Maria’s floor and the one above it. The camera focuses on the area where the blast originated and I’m overwhelmed with nausea and lightheadedness.
“Marcus! Marcus!” I yell.
He bolts into the room still holding the phone mid-call. He looks from the television to me and back at the reporter on the screen and his mouth drops open.
“Oh God, no, no, no,” he says over and over.
I’m going to be sick and even in his shocked state he realizes it and grabs a trash can from under a desk next to him. He shoves it under my face just in time for me to vomit.
“Oh God, please tell me that’s not where Maria was,” Serena says as Marcus gathers my hair, pulling it back to the base of my neck.
That was exactly where her room was and it was close to the ICU where I used to work.
When my belly takes a break from protesting, Marcus quietly leaves the room in a daze.
I don’t want to be without him right now, not even for a minute. I glance at Serena who has tears streaming down her cheeks as she watches the news report. When Marcus returns, he is in full protection mode. He sits down and pulls me into an embrace and I bury my face into his chest to cry. He makes a million phone calls arranging an insane amount of security at the house as well as Serena’s and Elena’s homes.
He speaks briefly to Elena, filling her in on the explosion. He tells her that she is not to leave home until he’s given the okay. When he’s done, I feel him raise his arm and motion to Serena to shut off the TV.
Without the noise of the television the atmosphere is eerie and unsettling. Marcus strokes my hair while I ruin his shirt with tears, mascara and snot.
“Is Elena OK?” I ask, against his chest.
“Yes, she hasn’t received any more text and I’ve sent a security team to guard her house. Imani… I have to tell you…” My body stiffens at the tone in his voice, and I pull away to arm’s length and see his tear-filled eyes before he shifts his focus to the floor.
“No!” I hit his chest with pathetic force. I’m emotionally drained and now this news. It can’t be real, this isn’t happening.
“I’m so sorry, baby. I spoke to someone who has privileged information. No one on Maria’s floor survived. She’s gone.” His voice cracks and I’m dumbfounded.
I just saw her an hour ago. She can’t be gone. She was going to help me raise the babies. She was going to make me ginger tea. She was coming home.
“Are you sure? Maybe your source was wrong. Maybe she wasn't in her room. She could have left her room or… or…” I’m grasping at straws. The pain in my chest is so heavy I can’t let anymore in. I don’t want to know this or feel this.
I look at Serena and she’s devastated too; she must have known Maria if she worked for Marcus for eleven years.
I look into Marcus’s eyes, searching for a different answer, praying for him to take it all back, for some sign of uncertainty, but there is none. He slowly shakes his head and I lay my head in his lap and allow him to shush and comfort me when it’s him who needs comforting.
Maria practically raised him. She was the mother who loved him when his own didn’t. I rub my hand up and down his shin as I lie in his lap, sniffling.
My tears have dried up or maybe I’m in shock, I don’t know. I just want this to be a very bad dream. I want to wake up in my warm bed with my husband and go down to the kitchen to find Maria safely making breakfast.
One Hundred Five
I hate waking up in unfamiliar surroundings, but it only takes me a second or two to put the pieces of the past twenty-four hours together.
Marcus is tangled in my arms with his fingers tightly wound in my hair. I imagine he didn’t do much sleeping last night. I lie and listen to his soft regular breathing. He needs to sleep. Light filters through the sheer curtains of the small bedroom. I lie and stare out the window until the bottom of my stomach drops when my mind is flooded with yesterday’s memories.
Maria is gone. Police confirmed it last night. They notified Marcus, as she has no other immediate family.
It’s no wonder why he clings to me so desperately. The most important people in his life always die. First, his mother and then, his father. Aunt Angelica, Megan, and now Maria.
Sometimes being with Marcus feels like a curse as much as a blessing. The tribulation and pain I’ve experienced since meeting him is enough to make a weak women crumble. But I am not a weak woman and I’ll never crumble. The only thing that makes me weak is him, it’s nearly impossible to tell him no and he knows it.
Despite all the strife, I have loved him from the moment I set eyes on him and I have never felt more loved and cherished in return.
Tears for my beloved second mother fill my eyes as the beginning of my morning sickness becomes more noticeable. I blink and the big drops run down the corners of my eyes into my ears, my mother used to say my ears would fill up with tears and I would go deaf if I cried too hard on my back. My mother. Oh no, I still haven’t told her about the pregnancy, or that I’m back in the States, for that matter. She’s going to kill me.
Marcus stirs next to me. “You are worrying, aren’t you?” he murmurs against my skin.
“How’d you know?”
“Your heart is beating right under my face, baby.”
“Oh. I was just remembering what happened. I can’t believe she’s gone, it doesn’t feel real,” I say softly.
“What else, I sense more.” Of course he does.
“I’m scared, Marcus. What’s going on? I want to tell my family I’m home and that we’re pregnant, but I can’t when we are hiding from who knows what. And the wedding plans, and now funeral plans, the trip, the babies. It’s a lot to deal with.”
“Alright, lady, calm down, the only thing you need to concern yourself with is growing our babies. I may not know much about pregnancy, well, actually I do, but that’s beside the point. I do know that stress is not good for them or you.”
“Marcus, it’s not as easy as that.”
He cuts me off, “Yes, it is. Listen to me, Imani. The wedding will practically plan itself. That is one of the benefits of being wealthy. Elijah has our trip almost completely planned, which incidentally is going to be our honeymoon. I have people on the threat situation. In fact, Black thinks he has a lead, so I think it would be alright to go home today. We can have your family over for dinner to announce our good news and invite them to the wedding, and Maria’s…” his voice catches, and I see the muscles in his neck strain as he swallows back the grief.
“The arrangements are already being made. She wanted to be laid to rest with her family in Spain, so there is no need for a funeral here. We will have a small service and then ship her body overseas. See? Nothing to worry about.”
Unbelievable, all of his phone calls yesterday, and there were many, were about him making these arrangements to keep my life free of stress.
“You’re amazing,” I say, taking one of his hands in both of mine and kissing the tips of his fingers. “Tell me more about what Mr. Black found. Did he catch someone, is he sure he’s got the right person?” He’s watching me toy with his fingers, his attention focused entirely on my actions. He’s distracted. I don’t think he has let it all sink in yet that Maria is gone. He’s been too busy taking care of everything else.
“Marcus?”
“Hmm?”
“You OK?”
“Yes, what did you say?”
“I asked who the person is sending threats, what did Mr. Black find out?”
“It hasn’t been confirmed, but he has a good lead on a woman from Utah.”
“A woman? As in a scorned lover kind of woman or a psycho stalker?” His eyebrows lift and I sense he’s holding back. “You know I hate it when you keep things from me.”
“I swear on all things holy, I am not. He isn’t one hundred percent sure, but he thinks she may be… related to me somehow.”
