Her Darkest Road (Roughneck #4) (4 page)

Chapter 8

9 weeks later

As I sat in the parking lot of Caring Meadows Treatment Facility, waiting for Belinda to walk through those double doors, my nerves were getting the best of me. I hadn’t seen her in three months. She hadn’t seen our daughter in that long. She had only written to me three times during her stay, and never acknowledged receiving any of the letters or pictures I sent her. Her third letter was simply her release date and time, along with her pick up address. Nothing else. I was trying to stay optimistic about her release, but the knot in my stomach was telling me different.

“Dadadadada” Samantha sang from the back seat, and then squealed in that high pitched voice of hers.

“I hear you, Angel,” I said with a laugh as I looked at her in my rear view mirror.

“Dada” she said as she pointed to the mirror, and then started clapping her hands.

I turned around to talk to Samantha when I spotted Belinda walking through the sliding doors, with an older woman accompanying her.

“There’s momma,” I whispered to Samantha as I took a deep breath, and opened my door.

I watched her as she spotted me. She looked good. She had gained a little weight back. Her hair was pulled neatly in a ponytail and her eyes weren’t sunk in; there weren’t dark circles under them, either. She smiled weakly as our eyes met.

I walked up to her and pulled her into a hug. Her body stiffened for a minute, but then she wrapped her arms around me lightly.

“How are you?” I asked cautiously as I broke away from her, and looked in her eyes.

“I’m good,” she whispered as she looked away from me, and then in the direction of her nurse.

“You gonna be ok, Ms. Belinda?” she asked as she patted Belinda on the back.

“I’ll be fine,” she said, and nodded her head.

“Well, ok then, you keep our number close if you need us, you hear?” she said, without even acknowledging my presence.

“Ok,” Belinda said as she walked to the passenger side of my truck.

I waited behind them as the nurse made sure Belinda was buckled up, and then she turned on her heels and walked back towards the hospital.

“Thank you,” I said to the nurse.

“Yes sir,” she said with a nod, and continued walking.

When I got into the truck, I looked over at Belinda as I started the ignition. She was looking straight ahead, not staring blankly like before, just deep in thought.

“You ready?” I asked, and she simply nodded.

“Dada!” Samantha yelled, and I saw Belinda’s body jerk, as if the sound startled her. She hadn’t even acknowledged the baby yet. She turned around slowly and looked at Samantha.

“Hi there,” she said quietly, and rubbed her fingers across Samantha’s tiny feet. Samantha stared at her mother silently for a few seconds, and then continued to scream “Dadadadada” as she banged her stuffed puppy against her car seat, giggling when it started to bark. Belinda turned back around and began staring at her hands.

“I got switched to days,” I said, trying to make conversation with someone who almost felt like a stranger sitting next to me.

“That’s good,” she replied. But nothing else.

“Betty is going to come over in the mornings, to help you out, until you get back in the swing of things,” I said, unsure of how she would react. But I knew I had to be sure that Samantha was safe and taken care of, no matter what.

She just nodded her head and started playing with her ponytail. This wasn’t going to be easy.

Later that night, as I climbed into bed, I couldn’t help but stare at my wife. She was on the bed, lying on her side, facing me, watching me as I pulled the blanket up to my waist. Her hair had grown longer and her soft, loose curls sprawled out over the pillow. Her face was a little fuller now, she looked beautiful. She looked like my Bells again.

“I’m glad you’re home,” I said quietly as I cupped her chin. I wanted to be a happy couple. A normal, married couple. We hadn’t been together in months. I missed being with her. I missed touching her. I hadn’t touched anyone, and I craved it. You can only handle your own business for so long before you need more. I was well past that point.

“Me too,” she whispered, and I rubbed my fingers down her arm. She didn’t pull away from me, so I reached back and turned the light off. I got hard just thinking about sliding inside her. I needed this. I pulled her into my body and started to run my fingers through her hair. Her body felt stiff against me.

“Belinda, I’ve missed you. I’ve missed us. Please,” I whispered as I brushed my lips against hers. I felt her body relax into me, and she placed her fingertips lightly on my side.

“Please,” I whispered into her ear as I lightly kissed her neck. I ran my hand down her arm, and then ran my index finger along the seam of her panties. I reached my hand inside the front of her panties and lightly touched her soft skin. She felt so good against my fingers, and I pulled her closer against me. I needed to be inside her.

“Baby, you feel so good,” I whispered against her lips as I cupped her bottom, and pulled her against my throbbing cock.

“Stop,” she said, her body stiffened and she put her hands against my chest.

“What? What’s wrong?” I asked as I tried to look into her eyes. But it was dark, I couldn’t see her.

“Just stop,” she demanded, her voice cold.

What the hell?

I reached behind me and turned the lamp back on.

“What’s wrong?” I said, as my eyes adjusted to the light, trying to ignore the fact that my dick was about to bust out of my boxers.

“Please, leave me alone,” she said. Her eyes were closed tightly and her arms were folded over her chest.

I got out of bed and walked into the bathroom. I had to get out of there before I said something I would regret. I hadn’t been with my wife in months, and she didn’t think twice about denying me. I was trying to understand what was going on with her, but I couldn’t. I’d researched and tried to get a grasp on this whole thing. But the fact was, I had needs. And I knew it was selfish, but my dick didn’t seem to care.

I pulled my cock out of my boxers and started to rub slowly, trying to release what had been building. I stroked my hands up and down, harder and faster, but I kept seeing her face. Her cold eyes. Her words. The whispers. Her matted blonde hair on the side of the road. The way her body froze any time I tried to touch her.

“Son of a bitch,” I muttered as I stood up, and turned the shower on. Both of my hands were balled into fists, I wanted to hit something. But instead, I stood under the cold water, trying to focus on what felt like pellets of ice hitting my skin.

Chapter 9

Samantha’s First Birthday

I couldn’t believe my baby girl was one today. I was finishing up some paperwork in the doghouse before I headed home for the weekend. Thankfully, I had a couple of days off, so we were having a small party at home for Samantha. When I say we, I really mean me. Belinda was never really the same after she got home from her stay in treatment. She was quiet, and didn’t interact with any of us much. She would go through the motions when I got home each day. Sometimes she would eat, sometimes she wouldn’t. She got really thin, again. I constantly tried to check her medicine bottles, but she threw a fit each time she caught me. I was growing weary of the situation, and the guilt about that ate me up.

But I was thankful that Betty agreed to stay every day - from the time I left until the time I got home. I had managed to convince her to allow me to pay her for helping me. She wasn’t happy about it, but I didn’t feel right about her doing this for free, no matter how much she loved my angel.

The roar of the rig phone jerked me out of my thoughts. The driller answered quickly.

“318” he yelled over the normal roar of the rig.

“I’m sorry, what, ma’am? I can’t hear you,” he said with his eyes squinted shut, and his finger in the opposite ear.

“Oh, yeah, hang on,” he said, and then handed the phone to me.

“For me?” I said, and felt the knot creep into my stomach.

“Betty?” he said as he shrugged his shoulders, and looked back down at his books.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Betty had never called me at work. I knew this wasn’t good.

“Betty?” I said into the receiver.

“Joe, honey. Thank God I got a hold of you,” Betty said. I could hear the shakiness in her voice.

“What’s wrong? What is it? Is it Samantha?” I asked, one question after the other. I was panicked and pacing back and forth.

“The baby is ok. Joe, it’s Belinda. You need to come home,” she said, unable to hide the worry in her voice.

“What is it? Is she hurt?” I asked, straining to hear her voice.

“No, she isn’t. I brought Samantha to my house. Joe, she’s not right. She’s whispering and crying. I tried to talk to her, but she got angry with me. I’ve never seen her like that. I was scared, so we left. Do you want me to call 911? I don’t know what to do, Joe,” she rambled.

“No, I’m leaving now. I’ll be there soon. You did the right thing, Betty. Thank you,” I said, and hung up the phone, running out the door to my truck.

I pulled into my driveway and heard the spray of the gravel as I slammed on my brakes. I ran into the house, unsure of what I was about to find. And although I had heard the whispers and the tantrums before, nothing prepared me for what I saw next.

As I opened the front door, I saw the TV. The entire screen was covered with duct tape. I looked to my left at the large mirror over the fireplace, it was also covered in duct tape.

What the hell?

The house was so quiet, it was almost eerie.

“Belinda?” I said, my voice cracking.

I heard a quiet whimper, and I started walking through the house. I walked through the kitchen and the microwave was covered in duct tape, as well as the toaster. Her whimpering got a little louder as I got to our bathroom. My eyes went straight to the mirror first - it was the same as the one in the living room, covered in duct tape. My eyes fell to the floor and I saw chunks of blonde hair all over the white tile. My heart started to pound harder as I grabbed the shower curtain to reveal where the cries were coming from.

“Belinda,” I said quietly as I slowly open the shower curtain.

“Jesus, Belinda,” I said when I looked down at her naked body curled in a ball. Her frail hands were gripping a pair of kitchen scissors. And her hair. Her hair was cut off. It was all different lengths. Some pieces were to her chin and some all the way to her scalp. My bottom lip started to tremble, seeing her like this. I stepped into the bathtub and squatted down beside her.

“No. No. No. No,” she said over and over, pointing the scissors in my direction, her eyes squeezed shut, tightly.

“Bells, it’s me. Look at me,” I said before I touched her.

“No. Stop. You’re with them. They sent you. I know. I’m not stupid. Why do you think I’m stupid? They put the bugs in my hair. You didn’t think I would find out, did you?” she said, her eyes wide and bloodshot.

“Belinda, stop,” I demanded, and grabbed the scissors. I pulled them out of her hands, firm enough to get them, but I didn’t want to hurt her.

“Fuck you!” she screamed at me at the top of her lungs, and lunged at me.

“Belinda! Stop!” I put my arms around her to restrain her. This was too much. This was beyond me. I couldn’t help her like this. I couldn’t control her.

“Get away from me! Get away from me, you Mother Fucker!” she screamed.

I released her, stood up and stepped out of the tub. I needed help. I walked quickly to the phone that was sitting on the bar, and dialed the number, putting the scissors next to the receiver.

“911 - What is your emergency?” the operator said calmly.

“It’s my wife. I need help. I..I..she needs help,” I stuttered. What the fuck do I say?

“Sir, is your wife hurt?” she asked, still calm.

“No. She’s…” Going crazy? Trying to stab me with scissors? Losing her mind? “She’s paranoid schizophrenic, she needs help.” It was the first time I had said the words to anyone.

“Sir, is she having a psychotic episode?” she asked, still completely calm.

“Yes,” I responded.

“I have an ambulance on the way, sir. Do you want to stay on the line with me until help arrives?” she asked.

“YOU!” Belinda screamed as she ran at me throwing her body into me, pounding her fists into my chest, causing the phone to fall from my ear.

“I hate you! I fucking hate you! You told them! They’re taking me to the ship! I knew you were on their side!” she screamed as I wrapped my arms around her from behind, and held her still.

“Please! Stop!” I said through my teeth. I had never seen anything like this.

She started to cry, and her body went limp. I fell to the floor with her as she curled her knees up to her chest.

“Help is coming,” I whispered, more to myself than to her.

“No!” she grunted, and put her hand to her head, pulling on the remaining chunks of hair she had left.

“It’s dirty there. It’s dirty there. She told me they would clean it, but they didn’t listen,” she mumbled as she started hitting herself in the head.

“Belinda, please, please,” I begged as I grabbed her hands, and put them across her chest. She was still naked. I wanted to put something on her before the ambulance got here, but I was too scared to let go. So I didn’t move. I just kept my arms wrapped around her tightly, listening to the crying and the whispers, my heart breaking more and more by the second.

Thankfully, the ambulance arrived quickly. But the sirens only fueled her. As soon as she heard the roaring sound, her head perked up and she let out a blood curdling scream. The squeal was so high pitched, it was painful to hear. I had given up trying to control the screaming and the whispering, so I just sat there and listened to it.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

I had left the front door open, so the two EMTs walked into the house and stood over us.

“Ma’am, can you hear me?” the female said as she bent down in front of Belinda’s limp and naked body. Belinda jerked her head up and started breathing heavy, and then spit in the woman’s face.

“Fuck. You,” she said. The EMT stood up, didn’t speak, just walked over to her bag and wiped her face with a cloth.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered as I looked in her direction, and she just shook her head and gave me a sad look.

“Ma’am, I’m going to need you to stand up,” the male EMT said, with more authority as he walked to us.

“No, no, no!” Belinda screamed as she fought against me, trying to get away.

“We have to restrain her,” the man said as he grabbed her feet, while the woman put her arms between my chest and Belinda’s body.

Belinda started to scream and thrash, trying everything she could to get away from them.

“Joe, don’t let them take me to the ship. Please, Joe. Please!” she cried with her eyes shut.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered as I let them put her on the gurney. I watched as they strapped her hands and feet down, while she grunted and screamed.

“Let me get her robe, or something,” I said, and ran into our bedroom.

“Yes, sir. Thank you,” the female said as she tightened the straps.

“Ma’am?” the woman said as I jogged back into the living room.

“Belinda,” I said.

“Belinda?” she repeated, and Belinda stopped thrashing and stared at the woman.

“I need you to calm down, ok?” she said gently. She was average build with her brown hair pulled into a tight bun. She was in her early thirties, but it was obvious she had experience with this kind of stuff.

“Suck my dick, you fucking cunt!” Belinda said, her eyes full of evil and hate. It wasn’t her. She wasn’t herself, not now. I didn’t understand it, but that wasn’t my wife.

“Well, ok then.” She shook her head.

“We’re going for a ride, ok?” she said, in the same calm matter that she maintained the whole time.

I slid down the wall as I watched them wheel her out the front door.

How did we get here?