The Wrong Sister

After a good romp in the sack and then a refreshing shower, we sat downstairs in front of the TV, watching something we weren’t really watching. “How are your sessions with Dr. Lacayo going?” Lisa eventually asked me. “Okay, I guess. Kinda pointless, but okay. I don’t mind our chats. I’ve come to feel comfortable with her, and I know I can pretty much open up about anything. But as she agrees, there really isn’t much more she can do for me at this point, so after our next appointment, we’re going to leave things up in the air—meaning that I can call her if I feel I need to.” “Okay.” “Why?” “She seems to think you might be suppressing something.” I looked at her, unsure of what to say. “You gave her permission to discuss things with me,” she reminded me. “Yeah, I know. It’s not that. It’s just that she’s never said that to me.” “Oh.” “What is it that she thinks I might be suppressing?” Lisa shrugged. “I don’t know. You two are the smart ones. I’m just a cop who hunts criminals. All she said was something about it being typical of your personality.” “What personality?” I asked, not sure if I should be curious or angry. “The way your intellect is up there, but your personality is a little more…” “Immature?” She smiled. “No, not that.” “Then what?” Now I was definitely becoming angry. “Calm down, girl. I should go put on something blue, since that color is supposed to be calming, as you say.” “Well, telling you what we discuss is one thing. Telling you something we haven’t discussed is another. She can go fuck herself!” “That’s another thing right there—those random temper tantrums of yours.” Now I was becoming angry with her. I looked at her incredulously. “Are you kidding? You’d be pissed off too if you learned your shrink was telling your spouse shit she wasn’t telling you.” Lisa’s voice became sterner. “Okay, you need to calm down and lower your voice. The neighbors don’t need to hear…” “Fuck the neighbors! I’m going for a walk.” I ran upstairs and changed into something more suitable for outdoors. She was waiting for me at the foot of the stairs. “Sorry, ma’am, but you’re not going out now.” “Sorry, detective, but I am going out now.” I proceeded to walk past her, but she blocked my path, causing me to walk right into her. It was like walking into a brick wall. The strong, dark woman looked down at me with a cool, no-nonsense glare. “Shay, it’s late now, and you’re pretty pissed off.” “Yeah, we’ve already established that I’m pissed, and I don’t give a shit if it’s late. Now get out of my way.” Lisa refused to move. She just continued staring at me, dark orbs cutting through me in a way that almost sent chills through my body. “I’m not fucking kidding, Lisa,” I said, although I no longer felt as brave or confident. Something was wrong. Very wrong. Her eyes were nearly jet black now. I don’t think I’d ever seen anyone’s eyes darken like that, if that was even possible with how dark her eyes normally were. But I was determined to hold my ground and not let her bully me or boss me around like some kid. She was my husband, not my mother. I wasn’t about to let her tell me what to do. I knew this wasn’t just a case of her having my best interest at heart. This was also about her trying to control me, and I wouldn’t let that happen. “Sit down on the couch, please,” she said firmly. “No,” I said defiantly. “I’m not a child. You’re not going to tell me what to do.” “And you’re not leaving this place tonight.” “Oh, yeah? Well, unless you’re going to handcuff me to a chair or something, I most certainly am.” I proceeded to move forward again toward the door, but once again, she blocked my path. I could feel her strength even though she simply stepped in front of me without actually putting her hands on me. “I don’t need to handcuff you. You just need to take a seat.” “You just need to GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY WAY!” I screamed in my loudest voice possible. She didn’t even flinch. “How long are we going to play this game?” she asked instead. I felt myself growing angrier. “You think this is a fucking game?” She continued to gaze at me hotly. “I’m not fucking kidding, Lisa. You don’t tell me what to do. You’re not going to keep me from going out.” “You don’t have a choice,” she said, her own voice now rising. “So just cut the shit, Shaylin. If I say you’re staying, you’re staying.” I’d had enough. I pushed forward as quickly as I could with as much force as I could. It didn’t do me any good. Lisa simply stepped in front of me once again, thrusting her weight toward me as I did. This sent me backward a few steps and almost right off my feet. Now I was really pissed. “Fucking bitch!” I shoved her as hard as I could, both hands on her chest just below her shoulders. I might as well have been trying to shove one of the walls aside. She returned the same shove, and with what seemed like very little effort on her part, I didn’t just fall backward—I was actually lifted off my feet before I hit the ground with a painful thud just in front of the coffee table. Stunned, I slowly got up and then charged her, fist clenched, teeth gritted in determination. She caught my fist in her hand. Then she pushed my fingers back with one hand while twisting my wrist with the other. I was now completely immobile. “Had enough yet?” she asked, demeanor still calm, cool, and collected, while deep down I knew she was angrier than angry. “Let go of me, you crazy bitch.” “You’re in a serious wrist lock right now. I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you except for where I want you to go.” Instead of letting me go, she pulled my arm to the side, forcing me to hit the floor on my back so as to avoid getting my wrist completely broken. “You sick motherfucker!” I screamed with rage and fear as she straddled my body, pinning my arms to my sides. I tried with all my strength to jam my knee into the small of her back, but it was useless. Now she went from determined to control me to utterly furious and determined to hurt me. My anger was quickly turning to fear. “STOP!” I screamed, and she started alternately slapping both sides of my face. “You’re going to kill me. Stop it!” “Who’s the toughie now?” she shouted. “Huh? Who’s the toughie?” I was completely helpless as I screamed in fear, but she just kept pummeling my face. She had been hitting me open-handed first, but now she was slamming me with her fists. I was afraid she was going to break my nose, knock my teeth out, or maybe knock me out altogether. “Ok, ok!” I screamed in sheer terror. “I’ll do whatever you say!” She stopped for a moment. Oh, thank God, I thought to myself. “Yeah?” “Yes, I swear!” “You sure about that?” “YES!” Panic began to creep into my voice again. “Please! Please don’t hurt me.” “Why shouldn’t I?” My emerald eyes met her onyx ones. Had she really lost her mind that night? Where had this viciousness and cruelty come from? If this was how she controlled the criminals she dealt with, then San Francisco had one seriously corrupt detective on its force. “Lisa, please,” I sobbed desperately. “I’ll never go anywhere you don’t want me to go ever again.” “That’s not the point.” “What?” I breathed, tasting the metallic tang of blood, my head and face throbbing from the abuse. “You’re missing the point,” she said, coldly and calmly gazing down at me with the most hateful and chilling look, as she continued to sit on me. “W-what point?” “The one where you tried to attack me.” “Lisa, I wasn’t trying to attack you. I was trying to get you out of the way so I could leave and give us both a chance to calm down.” She snorted with disgust. “Is that so, Little Miss Brainiac?” “Look, I don’t know what you want from me right now, but you’re really hurting me. Please get off of me. I swear I’ll be like a puppet on a string and do anything you say.” “Anything?” She didn’t move, and I was finding it harder to breathe with her weight heavy upon my chest. I didn’t know what to say next. I was just too afraid I’d say the wrong thing. “See, what you don’t know about me is that I have a real Jekyll and Hyde personality. Tonight, you almost got to meet my Hyde side,” she said in a low, chilling, mechanical kind of voice. Almost? If that was almost meeting Mr. Hyde, I hated to think about a full-blown introduction.