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) (2 page)

“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife.  You may kiss the bride.”

Raising the veil, Alex scoped her face, ended it with a sweet, gentle kiss.  Zoe beamed from ear to ear, rubbing the lipstick off his lips. 

She married the man she loved, and that love conceived two children she was more than ready for, which would come to be a surprise for the groom.

Without warning, Zoe received a sharp pain in the pit of her stomach to such a degree that it increased and became more constant, detecting the splotch of blood on the bottom of the dress.  Then the blood on the floor.  She didn’t want to admit it but she was frantic, tried to keep her wits about her in the act of the bridal party scurrying to a nearby hospital, whereas twenty of her closet family and friends soon followed. 

Subsequent to the orderlies rushing her to the O.R., they sat in the waiting room ten minutes later, for two hours, aimed to keep busy so they wouldn’t think about the one thing that had been on their minds since they got there. 

Alex hysterically paced up and down the hall, reasoned with himself for not being with her.  He was on his third cup of coffee. 

“I don’t understand why they haven’t told us anything yet?!”Alex asked, frustrated with himself, with the doctors, even with her.  They sat their sights on him, pleading him to calm down. 

“I’m going to the cafeteria.  Does anybody want anything?” He paused.

“And silence, great.  Try not to talk about me too bad when I’m gone.” Alex concluded.

Alex walked down the corridor, peering through the window of the operating room, viewed the blood—there was so much blood that tears streamed down his face.  Memories of her entered his mind.  A flood of emotions came running to him all at once.  He barged in the presumably locked door, demanding to know the prognosis.  Coffee and cigarettes were all that fueled him. 

            “Please tell me what’s happening to her.” Alex begged.

“You shouldn’t be in here.” The surgeon enforced.

“Is she going to be okay?” Alex inquired.

“Get him out of here!” Another surgeon yelled.  The nurse accompanied him outside.

“I need to know what’s going on with my wife!” Alex said, enraged.

“We’re doing everything we can for her.  Your wife is in good hands.” The nurse said, reassuringly as she went back inside and locked the door.

Feeling defeated, Alex sauntered into the men's room and made sure the stalls were empty, took in his image and shoved half a gram of cocaine up his nose.  He didn't want to feel like this anymore, as a matter of fact he wanted to feel numb. 
She can't die!  She can't leave me!
He thought.

     Alex indulged in one last look and saw an older disheveled version of himself. Alex started to hear things—the sound of his father’s voice echoing in his mind—at different periods of his life. 
Look at you; you’re a fucking disgrace to the uniform.  Like father like son.  You're a fucking bum.  She knows it, I know it and your mother knows it.  Like father like son
.

"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.