Ruthless 18+

45

CHAPTER 45

Iris sobbed, releasing some of her pain, and then puked her gut out. It took her a week to leave her room and finally eat at the table.

I slept every night with her, holding her close as she woke up screaming, full of sweat and tears. There are nights when I wake up and find that she wetted herself; she would refuse my help from embarrassment but still clean her up.

Now, I hold her hand as we walk down the stairs and have breakfast. Everyone greeted us, and I sat Iris next to me. The waiter brought in the food and placed it in front of us; she lifted off the covers and found waffles. She was forced to have some healthy nutrition this whole week to prepare her body, and today, I ordered her to receive her usual waffles. She looked up at me; something like life flashed in her eyes, and I could have sworn a smile twitched up her lips, hope.

Everyone continued talking, and we started eating; chatter and the clicking of the pated filled the room. A servant appears carrying a box; I look back at Iris and find her planting that same smile as Derek recalled a memory. The servant places the box in front of Iris as she takes away her finished plate, "For Ms. Genoves." She said before leaving. She looks at me questionably, and I shake my head; I didn't get her anything. She pulled the card off the box, read it, then handed it to me, "Present for getting back up again." It said.

She peels off the top, takes out a couple of white roses, and sets them on the table beside me. A sharp gasp escaped her lips as she removed the paper; everything went silent with a slap to the mouth to shut herself. Frozen, she stood over the box momentarily; she pulled her hand away from the box again, trembling too hard to watch. She pulls off the paper and shuts her eyes with a soft sob and then another. "Iris, what is it?" I stand up, still looking at her.

She didn't even look at me as she lowered her hand into the box and pulled out a baby, fully wrapped in white cloth but soaked with blood. Goosebumps painfully run down my body. It can't be?

"Oh god." Someone swears, but I can't fully hear them from my banging heart.

Iris pulls the baby close and smells it; she shakes her head, refusing it all. "No," she exhales the word like a whisper. She slides slowly to the ground, pushing the chair behind, and I stare, no, no, no, no.

"No." Her piercing cry snaps me out of my shock.

"No, no, no, no, my baby." She cries again, and I crawl to her.

I pulled her closer. "It's all right; you are with mommy now."She said. Tears roll down, and each one breaks my heart, "Mommy will take care of you now; it's okay." She whispers, knowing it's not, understanding it all but still refusing it.

"My baby, my baby, where have you gone?" She asks, voice so broken, causing my heart to sob. They took my child, they took my child, mine. Rage boiled my blood, mixed with fear and hurt. Will this be our cycle, losing people? When will it ever stop?

Iris rocks us, humming a lullaby she usually sang to them. When we would be exhausted but sing them to sleep, she would laugh when I stopped singing and ended up sleeping instead of them or the other way around.

Now our soul is burned, how will we heal, how will we recover from this? Iris turned blue as she held her baby tight and mourned, not a word as she inhaled deeply when she shed tears. Her body shook in my arms, and I pulled her closer, hating to see and feel her pain, except our hearts bleed. And Iris's body was broken limb by limb as she passed out.

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I asked Venice to Bury her, to let her sleep in peace. Maybe it's better this way; perhaps she won't grow up and hate us for entering this world. She won't hate herself as her mother does right now; she won't have to kill or sin. A wave of relief washed over me, knowing she was in a better place but also hurt by the possibility of never seeing her.