Blood Is Thicker Than Water (A New Adult Dark Thriller Series of Mystery and Suspense) ( free series of thriller, mystery, suspense and horror) (Next Of Kin Book 1)

by Aray Brown

  "I'm not your son!" He exclaimed, smashed the polished silver with the palm of his hands, and then wiped the blood from his left nostril.

  3.

  Alex never thought of him in that way. Frank was more like a stepfather than a real father. He tried so hard to be a better man than him. However, he wound up making the same mistakes. Alex believed he had a handle on things, but he wasn't the one pulling the strings anymore. It was a crutch for many years to cushion the blow of what ailed him—the haunted memories of his past. Alex never wanted to confirm it but he assumed the form of his old man.

  "How is she doc?" Alex jumped out his seat.

  "You must be Alex." Darius sized him up.

  "Who the hell are you?” Alex inquired.

  “I’m you. Only better looking and successful. I guess that’s why she didn’t marry me and settled for you. Girly must be slumming.” Darius paused, cleared his throat.

  "Zoe’s lost a lot of blood. We hooked her up to a blood bag to compensate for it. She's stabilized.”

  "What about the baby?” Alex asked.

  “Surprise, you have two healthy girls, fraternal twins actually. Hmm I thought she couldn't have any more children. I mean, after those two miscarriages." Darius retorted. With a furrowed brow, Alex contended to play off his confusion.

  “What, she didn't tell you?" Darius leered at him, smugly as he walked away, leaving him alone with his theory.

  Alex figured they were even. There were past memories, experiences that he wouldn’t even think about sharing with her. Things he wanted to forget. Things he was ashamed of. All tied to the source of his addiction. He thought about seeing a shrink but never made it to the first session. Alex had kept his past hidden for so long, he wanted it stay buried.

  Alex stood in the doorway, watched her sleep, scanned the tube sticking out of her arm, and observed her face like he knew every winkle and little imperfection intimately. Alex smirked, wholeheartedly while rapping his knuckles against the door.

  “Hey." Alex greeted.

  "Hi." Zoe said, refocusing her eyes

  "How do you feel?"

  "How do you think I feel?”

  Alex planted a kiss on her forehead, looked around. The room was overflowing with flowers from well-wishers.

  "Looks like a funeral in here." He sat a potted plant with the others, hauled a chair at the bedside, and then held her hand.

  "You just missed your father.” Zoe said.

  “It was on purpose.” Alex said.

  "Are you ready to see your babies?" An impatient nurse wheeled them in. Giving them the once-over, searching their faces for any similarities that would prove they were his but there were none. The newborns were almost the spitting image of Zoe. The twins had black hair, brown skin, and same nose, minus the freckles. Alex cradled the younger one in arms like he could’ve held her forever —couldn't take his eyes off of her—never expected loving anyone more. From then on she became his favorite.

  "Thought of any baby names yet?" The nurse interrupted.

  Zoe branded the oldest one Isabel. Alex gave it more consideration, choosing the perfect name that would fit the little one like a glove. He named her Medina, after his deceased mother; therefore his psyche began to shift back to her. He thought about her often.

  She was murdered ten years ago. The crime scene had all the makings of a robbery that went awry. Even though he couldn't prove it, he always suspected Frank. Alex blamed him for her death, for their sham of a marriage, for his addiction, for how his life turned out. Their relationship was strained, to say the least.

  It had been precisely seven months since Zoe was released from the hospital. Afterwards she went back to The Force. The one accomplishment in her life was being a cop. Unlike most girls from her senior class who dreamt of being fashion models, she dreamt of being Christy Love. Yet there was more to it than that. She wanted to make a difference, wanted to make something out of herself without her parent’s influence. Inducting in the academy right out of college, endured four grueling years, she joined the ninth precinct. She was the only female officer and felt like a small fish in a shark-infested pond. Most of the fellas gave her a hard time on account of who her parents where, hence giving her something to prove, not only to them but to herself—to her parents.

  "Welcome back." Alex greeted her, laced up his shoes.

  They had been separated for awhile now due to her recent discovery. She filed for legal separation after months of his broken promises, couldn't watch him self-destruct anymore, and didn’t want to subject the kids to that lifestyle.

  "Thanks. Good to be back." She replied, nonchalantly. Zoe didn’t look at him the same way. The coke changed him into a different person. She gave him an ultimatum and much to her surprise, he chose the latter.

  This was Alex’s fifth time in treatment and he was buoyant that it would be his last. He missed everything about her. He took it all in from her infectious laughter, intoxicating scent to her supple skin.

  "I was thinking I could take the kids off your hands for a few days. I've been clean for two weeks. They need a father."

  "Yeah they do. What they don’t need is a cokehead" She said, sternly, slammed the locker and walked away.

  The last time he saw the twins was when they were still together. He felt like he was missing everything. Their first steps, first birthdays, first day of school.

  He felt like a part of him was missing, wondered if she ever told the kids about him, or just fabricated how they came to be.

  Alex quickly resorted to his sixty dollar a day habit. This was a current pattern. It started when his mother was killed. This time he took more than his regular dose. He wanted to block out every unpleasant memory he'd ever had, all his regrets. The stuff he couldn't change—his life with her. Alex knew she would never come back to him. He closed his eyes and immersed himself in the euphoria—that grew to be his greatest escape—also his greatest downfall.

  An exhausted Zoe entered a dark house, longing for a nice warm bath. She poked around for the switch, and then heeded a distinctive voice that made her hair stand on end.

  “You’re getting colder. You’re ice cold.”

  Zoe uncovered the light switch, illuminating the room, perceived Alex in the chair with a .357 Magnum in his hand, clasping the little one in his arms. His hostile glim was enough to petrify her, furthermore chilling her to the bone. For the first time she was afraid of him. Bloodshot eyes—pupils the size of olives. His alter ego had emerged, taking its rightful place. It was calling all the shots, leaving Alex to deal with the consequences.

  "Hi honey; I'm home.”

  "WH-what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in rehab?”

  "Treatment’s over. I’m cured.”

  Alex cocked his gun as she moved closer to Medina.

  "Uh-uh, she stays here. We're having a father and daughter moment. You wanted us to bond remember?

  "Please don't do anything stupid. Give me the baby."

  “That’s all you care about isn’t it? I'M STILL YOUR HUSBAND! AND YOU TREAT ME LIKE SOME DIRT STUCK TO YOUR SHOE!"

  Zoe struggled to calm him down to no avail. Before long, Isabel’s angelic eyes opened, led by her incessant wailing that seemed to permeate the room. Alex scrutinized her during the time she went to comfort Isabel. Against him, Zoe was defenseless. Alex had gone absolutely mad and was in complete control of her fate. She pinched herself like it was a dream impossible to wake up from, came to find her worst fear realized.

  "Bring her in."

  "Leave her out of it."

  "Bring her in." Alex growled.

  Nervously sitting her down in the playpen, she wondered what would be next. If Zoe managed to get by unscathed, she would fire the nanny for bringing this poor excuse of a human being to her doorstep.

  "Break open the wine bottle. It’s time to celebrate."

  "What?"

  "Now we can be together.”

  "Are you crazy?”

  "Dina,
want to play a game?" Alex asked, emptying his bullets, all but one, like a spoiled brat he was determined one way or another.

  "When I count to three, close your eyes. One...two...three." Alex instructed, aiming it at her temple, his finger dangerously close to the trigger.

  "Please, don't." Zoe sobbed.

  "I'm doing this for us."

  Alex wanted to see how far and how hard he could push. With every misfire, she was more and more frantic.

  "Tell me you love me. Tell me you love me. This is your last chance."

  "I love you."

  "I don't believe you. You’re a bad mother, and a lousy wife.” Alex replied, disdain in his voice, then opened fire.

  "No!" Zoe shrieked.

  The bullet pierced her skin, then her heart. She collapsed in the middle of the floor.

  "Get up." Alex nudged her with his foot, continually.

  There was no movement.

  "What did I do? What did I do? Zo." Alex wept.

  The sound of his beating heart and the children's constant bawling invaded his musings. Alex wouldn't be able to live with himself if he killed the woman he loved. He violently stroked his hair, riddled with guilt then fearfully tapped his forehead, had a notion of making a clean getaway. Would he leave her for dead?

  Alex gathered the receiver, hands trembling, dialed a number. He had a hankering for a cigarette.

  "911 what's your emergency?" The female dispatch answered.

  “I want to report a felony." Alex said.

  “What’s the nature of your call sir?” The female dispatch inquired.

  “My wife’s been shot. She’s not breathing.”

  “Do you have a positive ID on the attacker? Sir?”

  Alex dropped the handset, slumped against the wall, head in hands whilst the dispatcher reiterated the last question. Grabbing the screaming brood, one in each arm, he dried their tears and attempted to soothe them. I really screwed up this time. He thought.

  4.

  "Hands behind your head." The officer instructed.

  Witnessing their father in cuffs was something they wouldn’t forget. They were at that stage where they were too young to know what was going on but old enough to remember.

  "We got a heartbeat." The man said.

  Alex took a quick peek just as the EMTs moved her to the gurney. Then back to the second-in-command officer who read him the Miranda rights.

  "You have the right to remain silent."

  "Zo!" Alex shouted.

  “Anything you say may be used against you in a court of law."

  " Zo!” Alex screamed.

  "You have the right to an attorney."

  "Zo!” He watched the EMTs wheel her out.

  "If you do not have an attorney, one will be appointed for you."

  "Zo!"

  "Hey! Do you understand these rights as they have been read to you?" The officer asked, frustrated.

  "Yeah I got it."

  The officer ushered him to the back of the squad car. Alex loathed himself for what he had done. He never dreamed in a million years that he would shoot his wife or force his kids in the arms of a stranger. How do you deal with the fact that the person you should've shielded your family from was you?

  Alex was charged with attempted murder. The minimum sentence was fifteen years in prison….maximum: Life.

  All he could concentrate on was her. Everything else seemed irrelevant. The best that he could do was get help. Alex had dug a hole he couldn’t get out of. She deserves to be with someone great. And that's never been me. He thought.

  They booked him and stuck him in a holding cell. The arraignment was scheduled for ten o’clock tomorrow. Alex was ready to face the verdict. He was beside himself. It was so unreal. It felt like a dream. A dream he couldn't escape. Alex had a lot of regrets, this being at the very top of the list. Given the chance to do it all over again and rewrite the wrongs, would he?

  "Call the next case." The judge ordered.

  "The people vs. Alexander Price." The bailiff announced.

  Alex and a young officer walked in the courtroom where he stood in front of the presiding judge, handcuffed and shackled. They treated him like a common hood. Scum of the earth. He had brushes with the law before but his past crimes—child's play compared to this. Alex glanced at the ill prepared defense lawyer the court had appointed, it was evident that this case was just given to him.

  "Mr. Price you are charged with the willful intent to commit murder. How do you plead?” The judge asked.

  "Guilty." Alex said.

  “Your honor, my client was under extreme duress.” The defense lawyer said.

  “Your client endangered the lives of his children. Not to mention his wife. We’re talking more than just jaywalking here. Mr. Price is a danger to himself and others.” The prosecutor argued.

  "Where are we on bail?" The judge asked.

  "We firmly stand at no bail, your honor.” The prosecutor said.

  “We ask that bail be set at 1,000 dollars.” The defense attorney announced.

  "I have no tolerance for people like you Mr. Price. There are consequences for your action. And these are dire. Under the influence or not, it’s still a very serious crime. The bail is set at fifty thousand dollars. Tough luck counselor" He banged his gavel.

  "Next Case."

  Alex gazed at the judge and the man he had called his father as the officer carried him away. He didn’t care about the consequences, didn't care about himself anymore. The family was most important and he knew whatever the punishment would be it was well deserved. What hurt the most was turning into someone he said would never be and letting everyone down who believed in him.

  Alex laid on an old beat up cot, staring at a blank wall as the officer opened the cell. Frank approached him, disappointed. They were so much alike and yet so far apart.

  "You're lucky I still got some pull in this town." Frank said, dropped a small manila envelope on the cot. Enclosed were his car keys, wedding band and wallet.

  Frank was tall, pudgy and had a face that was forgettable.

  "You don't have to check, it's all there. I saw your wife.” Frank said.

  "How is she?" Alex asked, jumped up

  "She's in a coma. The doctors say its touch and go." Frank replied.

  "I want to see her." Alex said.

  "I talked it over with the judge. Here's the deal. Two years in rehab, two in therapy. No jail time AND YA STAY CLEAN!” Frank said, changing the subject.

  "And one more thing, you're no longer a cop.” Frank blurted out, exited the cell.

  "I have to see her." Alex replied, grabbed the envelope and charged toward the door.

  "She doesn't want to see you! I don't want to see you! What a classy girl like that ever saw in a schmuck like you I’ll never know “Frank barked, sealed off the exit.

  "Apparently the same thing my mom saw in you!" Alex said.

  "Hey, I never put a bullet in her chest." Frank replied.

  "No, you didn't. Just beat her to death. Thanks for bailing me out.”

  Alex grabbed his coat, angrily walked past Frank and slammed the door shut. He spent his life living in Frank’s shadow. Golden boy was what the officers named him. Alex tried so hard to be what they wanted, what his father needed that he lost himself in the fold. Fellow officers wouldn't stop comparing him to the great Frank Price.

  Frank died the next day. After he passed, the new wife wasn’t the same.

  Alex didn’t show up to the funeral, or visit his final resting place to make amends.

  The newspaper read: Frank Elroy Price. Sixty years old. Former Sergeant. Survived by his family. Died from a severe heart attack.

  5.

  "I'm looking for Zoe Price." Alex said.

  "Zoe Price." The nurse typed away on the computer as Alex impatiently tapped his fingers on the counter.

  "She's in ICU. Room 103." The nurse replied

  Alex dashed down the hallway, cutting off everyone in his path. He was d
esperate to see her one last time and wanted to express his deepest sympathy. Alex looked in the glass window and hesitated for a minute before going in. She looks so fragile.so helpless. He thought.

  "It's me. I'm probably the last person you expected huh? If your father sees me he'll blow a fuse." Alex paused

  “I need you to fight. You can’t die on me. Your kids need you. You’re a survivor remember?”

  Maybe someday she can forgive me. He thought. Teardrops were falling down his face as he prayed for the first time in his life.

  "Bye Zo."

  Alex kissed her forehead and walked out of the room.

  Just as he turned the corner, a man’s angry fist struck a vigorous blow to his face, blood boiling, flashing the evil eye while leaving the rest of him on the ground.

  "What the hell are you doing here?!"

  "I didn't know I needed an invitation to see my wife." Alex said, removing the blood from his bottom lip.

  "Not for long." The man dropped the divorce papers on his lap.

  "She's not even out of the coma yet and you're already running her life"

  "A father’s job is to protect his possessions. Don’t you agree? I couldn’t shield Zoe from you then but I can care for her now. Do me a favor, bow at now...or lose custody of your kids. Murder two. Reckless endangerment. You’ll be fortunate if you see the twins in and out of a plated glass window.” He let out a light chuckle.

  Alex swallowed his pride and signed the papers, didn’t have the strength to argue the case especially when it was flawed. He kneeled down, leered at his offspring, kissed their foreheads during the time they said their solemn goodbyes.

  “Terrence” Alex said, balling up his fists, punched him.

  “I owe you that.” Alex walked away.

  June, 1998

  Zoe was released from the hospital, paralyzed from the neck down, consequently taking six weeks of extensive physical therapy to bounce back. In those six weeks Zoe had an awakening like she never experienced. She had an indescribable urge to reinvent herself and abandon anything that was in remembrance to her old life. She wouldn’t tell a soul where she was going or how to get in contact. Zoe being the impetuous one, yanked the kids out of Preschool, packed their belongings and headed to suburbia. Northbrook, Illinois. Zoe needed a new start. Not to mention a new set of faces as she grew weary of admiring the old ones, making the move inevitable. Zoe had her heart set on a two-story house in the midst of a quiet gated neighborhood. She hired a realtor via a reliable source.