Secrets and Lies | ✔️

Chapter 7 - Conrad

Ch7 - Conrad

"How could you, Conrad?" Elizabeth gasped. "How could you do this?" Her breath came out in jagged bursts as she sat crouched against the bedroom wall, a puddle of blood gathering underneath her.

Conrad took the heel of his hand and swiped it restlessly alongside the moisture on his brow, his mind racing wildly. "It was an accident," he warned urgently. "You had an accident."

His wife doubled over, excruciating pain heavy on her face. "I accidentally ran into your fist? Twice? No one will believe that! They'll know I'm lying, that I'm covering up for you."

"I said you had an accident!" he growled again, not at all amused by her sarcasm. When the hell had she become so contemptuous​, anyway? When he'd married her she had been very sweet, an innocent. Obedient and soft-spoken, the perfect companion. Look at her now, nothing more than a bitter, wrinkled hag. After everything he had done for her over the years . . .  The excessive home he'd provided. The expensive clothes she wore. The dinner parties. The trips to Europe. She had more beautiful belongings than most women accumulated in an entire lifetime, and she had the nerve to answer back with her acid tongue and disrespectful behavior? Who did she think she was?

"But I'm five months pregnant, Conrad," she whimpered. "And I'm bleeding-" Elizabeth's shoulders began to shake violently as her frightened cries grew louder. "Why did you do this to our baby?"

Why had he hit her? Oh yes, the bed-sheets. She was dressing the bed improperly . . . again. How many times had he told her that in order to make the bed efficiently you needed to use hospital corners? If you did not tuck the sheets in tightly, they would never stay put. They would get tangled up in between your legs while you slept, eventually waking you up in the middle of the night. He didn't have the luxury of waking up in the middle of the night. He needed to make sure he got plenty of rest, a good night's sleep. How would he ever function at the office if he didn't? He had a very important position at work-not that she cared- one he couldn't trust just any one to execute except for himself. That way, he was certain the job would always be done the right way. But Elizabeth didn't understand that, she had never worked a day in her whole damned life. She had it easy. All he ever asked of her was to take of their home, make sure dinner was on the table by 6 pm sharp. Occasionally play the loving, trophy wife adorning his arm and tend to their eleven-year-old child, Steven.  Was that too much to ask? And she was rewarded handsomely-too handsomely if you asked him- yet for some reason she managed to take it all for granted. And now this.

"I've called the ambulance, Elizabeth, they're on their way. Everything will be fine, you'll see. Stop acting so dramatic."

"But I think I'm losing the baby!"

"We were never trying for a second child, anyway," he reasoned. "Getting pregnant was never supposed to happen." What was the big deal, anyway? It's not as if the baby were real yet. It's not as if it were a living, breathing human-being. It was just a blob of tissue, an appendage, a parasite. "Just remember what I said. It was an accident. You fell against the foot-board while you were making the bed, and then you started cramping and bleeding."

"They'll never believe it," she whispered. "They'll know what you've done."

"Not if you make them believe it, and you'd better make them believe it."

"Oh, God," she wailed noisily, her body racked with pain. She turned away from him and cradled her swollen stomach in her arms. "Please save my baby!" Elizabeth rocked back and forth, sobbing incoherently.

More prayers! When was she going to learn? There was no one out there listening to her sad little prayers. All those stories about religion and higher powers and heaven and hell! Where had God been when he was a child? Where had he been when he had cried out? He'd been no where. He was just a myth, a ghost story you share with the very young to get them to behave. A ridiculous figment of someone's overactive imagination . . . like Santa Clause.

Conrad looked down at the carpet and noticed the crimson pool growing larger by the minute. Why had he chosen white carpet? He should have known his wife and child would never be able to keep it clean. They were savages, both Elizabeth and Steven. He lived in a house full of barbarians.

The sound of a siren could be heard in the distance, interrupting his thoughts. If Elizabeth knew what was good for her, she'd better behave. If she so much as looked at the paramedics funny there would be hell to pay. But she wouldn't do that, would she? She wouldn't betray him that way. No. She needed him. If he wasn't there providing for her and their son they would have nothing. They would be impoverished. Destitute. She would have to find a job, go to work, and he knew she was much too lazy for that. No, she would keep quiet, he was certain of it.

The sirens crept closer, and after another moment Conrad heard a loud knock at the door. "They're here," he announced, peeking out the bedroom window to the driveway below. "Now, what did I tell you to say?" he asked, walking toward her and looking down at the crumpled figure huddled against the floor. He needed to make sure she understood him properly, that she was aware of the consequences should she disobey.

"That I had-that I had an accident," she stammered, the whites of her eyes visible as they rolled about within their sockets. She was close to unconsciousness. Maybe that was for the best.

"Very good." He crouched down on the floor next to her and put his face close to hers. "And if you try anything funny, I promise, you will regret it."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Conrad strikes again!

Hello, and welcome to Secrets and Lies! If you enjoyed this dark chapter from Conrad's past, I ask that you please remember to vote/comment!

This chapter is dedicated to reader @KayDavis167. She followed along, commenting on The Secret and now she's back for Secrets and Lies! Thank you so much for the support you have shown! She is also a fellow writer, you can check out her work by visiting her profile page.

I've had to start dedicating more time to my revisions for Strawberry Wine  as I am under a deadline with the publishing house. But I'm still working on this story and do intend to update once a week, but sometimes it may take a little longer. Please bear with me during this extremely busy time, and if you are unable to wait for chapters you may want to consider picking this story back up after it is complete. THANK YOU for reading!