Mrs Jaxa

Chapter 38

Chapter 38

I have no idea what I'm about to step into but my fear propels me towards the door. I find him on the floor, clutching his chest while groaning. I frantically throw myself beside him and try to find the wounded area but I can't see anything. In a frenzy, I flip his body to have a look at his back. I still find it clear of blood. Where is it? Could it be my tears that are blurring my vision?

"So, you are the so-called wife?" Somebody says.

I raise my head to look at the person talking and only then do I see the lady at my door dressed in a trench coat, barefoot, her eyes red and face stained with tear stains and smeared mascara. I shift my attention back to my groaning husband who's still clutching his chest.

"Oh, he's not hurt. It's just a pellet gun," she says, jumping over us. A pallet what?

I help Dali up and roam my eyes over his torso for injuries. I spot a red bruise on his chest which causes my eyes to water.

"Oh, my God she -," I say, running my index finger over the bruised area.

"Kids," He says through gritted teeth, as I help him up.

I temporarily freeze as his words ring in my head. I slip away from him and dash up the stairs.

"Where are you off to?" Her voice echoes just as I reach the middle of the staircase.

I stop in my tracks and turn towards the sound of her voice. She's in my kitchen, half naked, with a bottle of wine in her hand. I squint my eyes at her. She's rather too familiar with this house.

"What are you doing?" I ask, my eyes darting between her and the front door.

I'm torn between going to help my husband or dealing with her trespassing ass.

"Pouring myself a glass of wine. Is there a problem?" She asks nonchalantly.

Her response leaves me speechless. I hear Dali groan just before he appears walking slowly into the foyer.

"Since when are you this weak?" She mocks Dali before taking a sip of her wine.

This woman is full of shit, yazi! I scoff and walk towards my husband, throwing his arm around my neck.

"Balisa, what are you doing in my house?" He asks, his voice sounding pained and groggy.

That pallet bullet definitely did a number on him. If it was a real gun... Only God knows

"Your house?" The bitch answers, throwing her head back while she laughs cynically.

Her laughter's making me uncomfortable. I knit my brows together and stare at Dali.

"Yes, my house," Dali reiterates with confidence.

"You seem to forget that we bought this house together," she shoots back.

"What?" I find myself butting it.

Did this man marry me and bring me and my kids into a house that he shared with his ex?

"What do you mean 'we bought it together'? I bought this house with my money!" Dali growls.

"Semantics. I helped you choose this house," she says, taking a swing at her wine before walking past us, heading for the lounge.

A lump forms in my throat as her words ring in my ear. She disregards her coat across the roam before she throws on top of my couch. Is this woman really sitting on top of my couch NAKED?

"What the -" I speak, my voice trembling with anger but she cuts me off.

"SHUT UP!" She screams, pointing the gun at us.