The Wrong Sister
Authors: Leanne Davis
**Please be warned that all my titles contain EXPLICIT profanity, sex, and mature content matter. Recommended for Mature Audiences ONLY**
Table of Contents:
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
The Wrong Sister
COPYRIGHT © 2014 by Leanne Davis
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information:
[email protected]
Publishing History First Edition, 2014 Digital
Digital ISBN: 978-1-941522-13-4
The Sister Series, Book Four
Edited by Teri at The Editing Fairy (
[email protected]
)
Cover Design by Steven Novak (
[email protected]
)
To my kind, fun, smart, stubborn, quiet, silly, focused, wonderful, joy-to-my life, daughter. I love you forever and ever, no matter what! You will always be my little Mandy, but now you are my lovelier-by-the-day Amanda.
(And I’m sorry but you still can’t read my books!!)
Acknowledgment: To Teri (editingfairy.com) as always for the work you do editing my novels…So grateful I lucked out in finding your skills early on in my career.
Diversions
River’s End Series
River’s End
River’s Escape
The Sister Series
The Other Sister
The Years Between
The Good Sister
The Best Friend
The Wrong Sister
The Zenith Trilogy
Zenith Falling
Zenith Rising
Zenith Fulfilled
The Seaclusion Series:
Poison
Notorious
Secrets
Seclusion
WHEN WOULD IT STOP?
Tracy McKinley walked around her house doing nothing. She picked up the vacuum, but never used it. She wandered around with the laundry in her basket, thinking she should wash something. She could have folded the pile of clean clothes that were now all wrinkled from sitting in the corner of her room, still untouched. She should have
done
something. Anything. But her stomach kept cramping as the words he said replayed through her head with startling, awful clarity.
No. This could not be real
. This could not be happening. Not to her. Things like that did not happen to her.
That
was not something that should ever be a part of her reality. When would he walk in and say he was just kidding? When? He had to, didn’t he? He couldn’t mean that. He had to be kidding because the pain she felt inside her guts was way too much to bear.
Her anger was so thick and strangling, she had to restrain the urge to smash her fist through the drywall of her living room repeatedly. She wanted to. She stared at it with her fist clenched, and her entire body shaking in a rage that was new and terrifying in its depth and power. Meanwhile, she kept telling herself
not
to slam it into the wall.
How could he do that to her? To them? How could her entire life turn out to be such a lie?
But… it wasn’t a lie. It was her new life.
He was home now. He came home early, and his face seemed haggard and drawn. He was suffering too. She didn’t give a damn.
They stood across their kitchen, staring at each other, as if fourteen shared years didn’t exist between them. There were no words, and might never be. His eyes scanned her face, seeking something from her. Something she could never give him. He finally slouched and sighed before shuffling down the hallway and disappearing into their bedroom.
Aimlessly pacing her house, Tracy wandered into her daughters’ rooms. She looked through their dressers and sat on their beds, but did nothing. Thank God the kids were at school. They would soon know all about it. But she wasn’t ready to tell them. Not yet. Her stomach cramped yet again. How could she tell them that?
She finally headed down the hallway, passing the bedroom in which Micah disappeared through. She stopped dead in the doorway and her heart froze as her blood congealed.
She suddenly jumped forward, screaming,
“No! No! Don’t!
”
Her husband of twelve years glanced up from where he sat on their bed with an expression of startled puzzlement. In his hands lay his handgun.
She rushed forward and grabbed it, holding it away from her body by two fingers, and horrified to have the wretched weapon in her hand.
Tears filled her eyes and choked her. Her hands shook so violently, she feared she’d drop the damn thing as if it were no more than a fork or spoon.
Micah’s voice was hollow. “It’s not loaded.”
He stared down at his feet. His legs were spread, and his feet firmly on the floor. His hands now were clasped between them. He didn’t even raise his head to acknowledge her.
“What were you doing sitting in here staring at it?!
”
“Just… thinking how much easier it would be on you, and on the kids, and on my dad, and everyone else, if I simply vanished. It would be better for all.”
Tears rolled down her cheeks as her shoulders sagged and she considered her life. And what was happening to it.
No. No, how could he think that?
She was shriveling up inside with pain, but she didn’t want him
dead.
Her heart thumped hard and felt like it just crashed into her ribcage. She shut her eyes in abject horror. How did they manage to have gotten here?
She fell to her knees before him and scooted forward to cover his hands with hers before kissing where they were joined.
He’d been holding a gun, and staring at it, while contemplating how much
easier
for her it would be. The tears fell faster and she hiccupped as she clung to his hands. He flipped his hand over and gripped hers tightly.
Shutting her eyes, she sighed heavily.
She had to convince him of her forgiveness
. She had to quit hating him. And blaming him. She loved him. And he actually considered ending his life because of what he’d done, and would soon be doing to her. There was no way,
none,
that she could let that happen. She had to accept what her husband did, even if it meant lying to him. She could not face the thought of him killing himself.
She shook her head, and big, fat tears streamed off her chin and landed on their clasped hands. She was trembling and cold and her head felt instantly like a cleaver was being hacked into the center of it. The pain was blinding and the adrenaline flowing through her system felt like it might stop her heart. “It wouldn’t be better. Not for me. And not for the kids,” she reached up and touched his face and he finally raised his head. Tears filled his eyelids. “I don’t want you dead, Micah. I could never accept your suicide. No. I will never accept that. You can’t ever talk like this again. You can’t do this to me. And you will
not
do it to our children.”
His eyes were desolate, pleading from a place of such misery she couldn’t have ever imagined coming between them. “How do I face them? I’ll ruin their lives, just as I’m ruining yours.”
She nodded. He was completely ruining her life after telling her two days ago, while he sat on this very same bed, that he embezzled a staggering amount of funds from the company he worked for.
His statement was as brutal, and just as shocking as if he admitted he cheated on her. Micah was a responsible, outstanding father and husband. He was not a crook. He couldn’t do such a thing. He couldn’t be serious.
It took him more than an hour to convince her that he wasn’t kidding. He had first lost all their saving and retirement in bad investments he hadn’t told her about. He had tried to cover it by taking a loan against the house; which he was now defaulting on. They were on the brink of losing everything they had ever worked for, and to cover it all up, he had stolen money from his clients.
And he’d been caught by one of the clients. He was on the brink of being arrested. At any moment, the police could show up here, at their house to arrest him.
She just sat there, completely numb. Destroyed. In denial. No. Micah, her husband of more than a decade could not simply be telling her he had committed such a crime. It didn’t compute. It didn’t make any sense to her life. They were married. They shared two kids. They built an entire life together, and now he was saying it was all a lie? And based on nothing? In five minutes, he managed to smash her entire adulthood into dust. In an hour confession, he destroyed all that she thought about herself, her life, her marriage, and their family.
And now, here she sat, at his knees, begging him to not completely end it. How could this be? How could they come to this point? Fresh tears wracked her body and she leaned her head down onto his lap while her shoulders shook as she wept.
“I can’t tell them. I can’t be what I’ve become. My dad will wish me dead. Hell, he should. I wish I were dead.”
She raised her head and fresh tears burned her eyelids before streaking her cheeks. “No. No. I was angry at first. I’m heartbroken, because I love you. And just because I love you, I don’t want you dead. Never. No. Not for this. There is nothing you could ever do to make me want that. Get rid of that gun. Now. Today. I mean it. Promise me. You must promise me.”
He gripped her hands. “You have to understand, Tracy. I did it because we were going to lose everything. Now, we
really
are going to lose it all. The house. Our retirement. Our savings. Everything that was once our life will be gone. And I’ll be in jail. But if I’m dead, it all ends here and now with me. There is no public humiliation. There is no prosecution, and there is no repayment of the funds I stole.”
“Stop! Please. Nothing would be worse for me than that. Please. Money and things, I can live without. Not you, Micah. I can’t live without you.”
He turned his head away, feeling the shame, which was as real for him as his eye color. She shook her head at the thought of it.
“You’ll have to live without me no matter what, Tracy. I’m as good as dead.”
“I won’t allow you to ruin our lives.”
“I already have.”
“No, you’re changing it. We can live through this. We will live through this. But you committing suicide, for that’s what we’re talking about, would ruin our lives.”
She slowly rose to her feet, but her knees wobbled and her toes curled in her shoes before a bout of dizziness made her feel like falling over.
Was this real? How could this be?
How could she, a busy, normal mother of two, and a part-time student, who was relatively content and happy… suddenly be kneeling on the floor and begging her husband not to kill himself because of the crimes he committed?
It was like she couldn’t stand still anymore. Ever since he told her, she couldn’t eat, or sleep, or bathe, or
do
anything. She walked around with her brain screaming at her incessantly,
No! This was not happening to them
. And now her husband’s contemplation of suicide? It was bad enough before. But doing this? He was staring at the gun and talking about unimaginable, horrible things.
“What’s going on?”
She whipped around at the softly worded question and her eyes blinked in a prolong moment of horror that they’d been caught. Donny Lindstrom, her brother-in-law, was standing just outside the bedroom door. His expression was filled with concern. He glanced from her to Micah, who simply continued staring down at his hands.
“Why do you have a gun out?” Donny’s tone grew louder as he stepped inside their bedroom. He pointed at the handgun now lying on her nightstand. She turned from it as if the sight of it nearly blinded her. “Micah? Tracy? What the hell is going on here?”
Tracy shook her head as again, her tears choked and blinded her.
“Talk to me. What did I just walk in on?”
“He-he was just looking at it.”
“Looking at it?” Donny frowned. “Why? What is this?”
Tracy suddenly moved and grabbed the offensive, terrible instrument of death and handed it to Donny. “Please take it. Destroy it. Get rid of it! I don’t care, just get it out of our house.”
Donny took it gently from her shaking fingers, quickly checking the chamber before setting it on the shelf beside him. “Okay, okay. What’s going on here, Tracy?”
Micah lifted his face and his tone was deadpan. “I’m leaving.”
****
Donny stared from Micah to his sister-in-law, and his mouth dropped open in total shock. He didn’t know what to do. He came over because Micah had called and asked him to meet at their house. It was an odd request from Micah, especially in middle of the afternoon on a work day. Micah was probably his best friend in the entire world. Donny didn’t think twice about walking in their front door when no one answered his knock. No big deal. He’d been coming in and out of their house often in the two years since being married to Vickie, Tracy’s sister. Their bedroom was on the way to the kitchen. He certainly never meant to walk in on them fighting.
He had started to back up, but seeing the gun on the nightstand, and the hysterical, crazy pacing of Tracy stopped him dead. Tracy was usually calm, reserved, and normal. There had never been an occasion when Donny ever saw Tracy act like
this.
Leaving? What the hell was Micah talking about? Why did he have a gun out? Why was Tracy pacing like a manic? It was crazy. It was something Vickie might do. Not Tracy. Not normal, self contained, always stable and emotionally even Tracy.
Was he to believe that Micah had cheated on Tracy? For what else could bring about this stunning, shocking, and dramatic scene before him? A scene he was far more apt to see Vickie pulling off than Tracy. So, what the hell was going on? His entire body felt half numb. This could not be real. No. If they, Tracy and Micah McKinley, could end up like this, after all these years, after being for Donny the couple he strived to be like; how could anyone else stay together? They were his hope. His beacon. His someday. He someday hoped to get to the place that they were.
Though being married to Vickie it had never seemed all that likely to happen. But still… the hope was there. But not if Micah had cheated on Tracy.
“What the hell do you mean you’re leaving? One of you needs to start explaining to me what is going on. Why did you want me to come over?”
This seemed like way too personal of a setting and a fight for him to be involved with. Micah finally lifted his head, his neck muscles moving as if he suddenly had arthritis. Tracy merely stared with unseeing eyes at the carpet before her. Donny glanced around. The room was in shambles. The shades drawn. The bed unmade. Clothes lay everywhere. The silence was thick and piercing.
“Why don’t we go into the living room? Tracy doesn’t need to hear this again.”
Donny glanced Tracy’s way. She didn’t move. She didn’t act as if she even heard Micah. His frown of apprehension was also one of worry. What had happened? He felt almost dizzy trying to contemplate what these two could be going through for their house, their voices, even their body language, to be like this.