Bed of Lies (ON HOLD)

XXVII

WARNING: CHAPTER CONTENT MIGHT BE TRIGGERING.

I jolt out of my sleep-slash-short nap at the ring of my phone. Groggily, I reach for the aggressively reverberating device. Spread across the screen is an unknown number. I hesitate, trying to make sense of the caller ID. It's a Cali number, but I don't know who it is.

Not in a mood ridden with suspicions, however, I tap on and hold the answer button, shifting it to the right. "Hello?" I scratch at my neck before my forehead, then resist the urge to let out a protracted yawn that could be apprehended outside this house.

"Hello! Isi?"

I tense, half certain of who it is calling me. "Yes?"

"It's Tina." Yes, I figured. Someone shoot me because I know this call is probably going to be everything but good news.

"Hi, Tina. How did you get my number?"

"I stole it! From one of the company records, of course." She sounds so proud of what she's done that I have to reconsider whether or not her action is a breach of work policies in any company. It is, isn't it?

"Oh. I see." I rub at my eyes before directing my gaze at the clock several inches away from me. It's to eight already. "So, what's up? Is anything happening?"

"Yes. A lot is happening." She squeals excitedly, and with some violent movements I do not particularly enjoy from her end, I am able to hear the ruckus from wherever she is.

Blaring music files out of bass speakers. I believe them to be so as I can't hear the lyrics of the song playing. Contrast this to the beats of the track, and it's a whole new experience. A person could go deaf from how loud they are, which is a big deal as I'm merely listening in from the other side of a phone. I can't imagine the madness that would be happening in person. It hurts to go that far in creating a mental image like I usually do.

"I can tell." The music booms more noisily, and I infer that she is making her way closer to the source of it all. I can see her outside a club, setting out in its direction. "So, why did you call?" I grab the goat or was it donkey, of this discussion by the scruff of the neck. I might have gotten that saying entirely wrong, but it doesn't matter. There's no English teacher to mark what I think wrong.

"Guess!" She exclaims, and I want to crawl back into my bed and cover myself up with my sheets, never to rise again.

"I'm not so sure. I'm a bad guesser. How about you tell me?" I entreat her. Though I am ninety-five percent sure where this conversation will lead, I don't want to guess. If I do, I might give her the wrong idea that this is okay and that I want to go ahead with what she has planned.

"Well, it's something you're going to love."

"Really?" Disbelief leaks into my tone as I hack at the nail polish on my big toe. It's already begun to break away. I know I should redress it soon as an extra cost is direly needed, but I'm not inclined to do so. "So, what is it?"

"Close your eyes and hold your breath," she commands in a dramatic manner that heightens the pitch of her voice. I neither close my eyes nor hold my breath, though I should probably do the latter as this is about to be bad. "Clutch your pearls and your wigs too because Calvary's coming. Today is the day for you to be saved."

"Saved?" Now, I'm scared.

"Yes. I'll be giving you the opportunity to step out of your married life." Who said I wanted to step out of it? In fact, I'd wish for a certain someone to step in it. I most certainly do not want to be yoked to whatever evil she has planned.