Avenoir

Avenoir - Kristen

Kristen

I practically run down the corridors heading for Marlena-fucking-smug-bitch-Evans office. I am trying to work out what the fuck I am going to say when I get there. I am trying to work out what the fuck they have been doing while I've been stuck in my room, pretending to have given birth to a fucking watermelon of a baby.

Goddamn Laura fucking Horton. Fucking know-it-all nosy bitch. I have to find John before she can get to him with her tales of ... well.. the truth.

What the hell am I going to tell him? David Robbins will back up my story, I have enough details about his wife and children to make him afraid for their safety. Father will make sure any of my threats are enforced, so he is not a problem.

But Laura Horton is. And Susan Banks is.

Susan is the only one who can or will disprove my story. She's the only one who can provide any kind of incontrovertible proof that it was not me in the delivery room, giving birth to John Jr.

I turn into an elevator and push the button for floor five.

FUCK!

What is John doing chasing after that bitch? We are married for fuck's sake. Or, at least, he thinks we are. Oh my God, I am SO sick of her interfering in our lives. The sooner Stefano can come and take her away, the better.

The door slides open at floor five and I exit, turning and stomping down the corner toward Marlena's office.

I am stopped halfway there by tape across the corridor and a security guard holding up his hand.

"What on earth?" I demand. "I need to get past. I need to find my husband." I point down the corridor to where it bends around a corner. Marlena's office is on the other side of that corner.

"Your husband isn't down there ma'am," the security officer says blandly. "There's been reports of a gas leak. This part of the building has been evacuated.

"A gas leak?" My disbelief must show plainly on my face because he shrugs lazily. "A gas leak and they've only shut down this part of the building?"

"Precautionary measures," he practically yawns in my face, and I scowl. This would be laughable if it wasn't so fucking annoying. And suspicious. This imaginary gas leak just happens to be centered around Marlena's office? I don't think so.

I muster the most winning smile I can and plaster it across my face. "Can you just let me go and check for him?" I place my hand on the officer's arm. "Our baby is sick, and I need to find him urgently. I won't be long. Just a few minutes. I think I know where he will be. I promise I will be in and out in a couple of minutes."

"I'm sorry ma'am but I can't.," he shakes his head. "Mrs. Horton was clear that no one is allowed in this part of the building.

"Oh, okay." I nod, trying to look disappointed, rather than the frustrated and angry that I feel.

Alice fucking Horton. That damn meddling busybody. Just as bad as her daughter-in-law. Now I am more suspicious than ever. Marlena is in her office and John is with her and Alice Horton is protecting them. From what? From me? What the fuck are they doing that Alice needs to shut down half the floor?

If that slut has thrown herself at my husband I am going to scratch her fucking eyes out. I swear to God.

I retreat down the hall a little and wait around the corner, trying to work out what my options are for getting past this idiot guard. Diversion? Hit him over the head? Damn, if I'd thought about it, if I'd known, I could have forced Dr. Robbins to provide me with some sedative. Still.. maybe that might look a little too obvious.

I hear a radio crackle and a muffled conversation and then unexpectedly, I see the shadow of the guard approaching. I press back against the wall so that I am partially covered by the large pot plant and I watch him turn right so that his back is to me and he walks down the corridor and turns into the men's bathroom.

Well, I guess if you've gotta go, you've gotta go. But what a stroke of luck for me!

I step out from behind the pot plant and as stealthily as I can, I make my way back to the tape and slip under it. Then I hotfoot it around the corner. And come face to face with Marlena's secretary of all people

"Ms. DiMera," she says loudly, as she crosses her arms and leans against the door to Dr. Do-Gooder's outer office. "You're not supposed to be in this area. It's been closed off. Possible gas leak."

"So, I hear," I snap. "But if that's the case, what are you doing still here? Surely you should have evacuated too?"

"Well, I..." Marlena's little minion looks around. "I'm waiting for someone. Someone's checking the rest of the floor."

"Why don't I believe you?" I sneer. She's lying. And she's not even good at it.

"Marlena's in there," I point at the door as she slaps her hand against the dark wood. "And I want to talk to her."

"You're mistaken," she... what's her name? Mary, Lesley? No, it's Hillary. That's right. Hillary, Marlena's loyal little gatekeeper. "Dr. Evans isn't even working today. She's at home with her children, as far as I know."

"You're lying," I narrow my eyes. "If she wasn't here, and this floor had been evacuated, you wouldn't be here. You would have called it a day as soon as you were ordered to evacuate. No, you're protecting her. This is all an elaborate cover."

That little bitch raises her eyebrows and shrugs. "I'm sorry," she says blandly. "I have no idea what you could possibly be talking about. I haven't seen Dr. Evans today." She shrugs, "And why would I be protecting her? From what?"

"She's got my husband in there, doesn't she?" I demand and I step forward and bang on the door over her shoulder. "Marlena? Marlena, I want to see you."

"Do you mind?" the homely little blonde lackey pushes me back with a surprisingly hard shove. "Have you ever heard of personal space?"

"Has your boss?" I demand. "Because I am pretty sure she's getting all up in my husband's personal space."

"Oh, I wouldn't know anything about that," she says, so perfectly innocently that I suspect she is lying through her annoyingly perfect teeth.

"John!" I shout. "Marlena! I know you're in there telling him lies. John, she's lying to you. Honey, please come out so I can explain!" How I am going to explain, I am not entirely sure, but I am not a DiMera for nothing. I have been raised having to think on my feet. I have been raised to use my brain and my feminine wiles to get my own way. Marlena might be irritatingly perfect, but she's also burdened with that pesky integrity and honesty which make her such an easy target for manipulation and emotional blackmail. At least, until now.

And John, well he just wants to believe the best of everyone. Especially the mother of his child. I conveniently ignore that Marlena is also the mother of his child. I can twist the truth better than anyone so I am sure I will come up with something in the moment.

I always do.